#this mostly turned into janus angst hour

[edupunkn00b]

French Kiss: Tale of the Revolution, Ch. 15: The City of Light

Prev - The City of Light - Next - All - [ AO3 ]

WC: 2350 - CW: weapons, angst, arguing

10 July 1789

It was nearly dark by the time they arrived in Paris, but the streets were still hot and humid, the sweet, fresh air of the countryside a memory. Janus didn’t wait for either Logan or Patton to climb down from the driver’s perch and slammed open the carriage door the moment the wheels stopped turning. He carried with him the bag from Remus, his wig tucked safely in its box under his arm.

“Janus, wait—” Patton called after him, but he slipped down the stairs to the back entrance of the church basement.

“Let him go,” Logan muttered. “He has every right to be angry with me. What I said was reprehensible.”

Patton rested an impossibly strong hand on his shoulder and smiled sadly. “What you said was… pretty bad.” He gave his shoulder a little squeeze. “But you were speaking out of worry and… hurt.”

“Of course I’m concerned, but…” Logan shook his head. “What would I have to be hurt about? Janus seems perfectly happy with this arrangement, he’s the favorite of the future King. You should have seen the way he smiled when he… he—” His protest withered under Patton’s knowing smile. “He cannot know,” he pleaded, gripping Patton’s arm with both hands..

Patton pulled Logan into a hug and rubbed his back. “Your secret’s safe with me, Logan.” He shrugged and pulled back enough to grin up at him. “Well… I think Remy figured it out, too, but he’s just a busybody sometimes.” He squeezed his arms around Logan one more time, then leapt down from the perch and offered his hand. “Come on down and get Remy to make you something. I’ll take care of Naif and Petit. ��

“It… it would perhaps be best to give Janus a little more time to cool off before I attempt another apology.”

Nodding, Patton smiled up at him. “Now, go on, I’ll meet you inside.” He gave Logan a little nudge as he led the horses to their borrowed stable at the end of the road.

Logan watched him go, then took a deep breath and retreated into the warm glow of Café de Foy.

~~~

Janus didn’t light the lamp in the tiny room he shared with Logan and the city’s fetid heat had made their pathetic little pellet stove unnecessary. He stubbed his toe on the foot on the bed and swore. Perfect way to end the night. How dare Logan judge him without even hearing what he had to say? How dare he assume this was mere lust? He never even considered, never even asked if there was more.

He stripped out of his clothes in the dark, and hung them in their little shared closet. Not that either of them needed much space. Logan had two shirts and two trousers. One waistcoat, which he was already wearing. Janus had acquired a few additional pieces, mostly from Logan, actually. “You do it better justice,” he’d murmur when one of his wealthier parishioners gifted him something out of guilt.

Slamming the door shut, Janus threw himself onto his bed and pulled the threadbare sheet up to his neck. Despite the worst the humid July night could throw his way, his bed felt cold and entirely too large. Had it really taken only two weeks for him to become accustomed to not sleeping alone?

Evidently.

Hours passed. Starlight shifted and the moon set, darkening the room further. The low, steady click of Logan’s prized clock marked the time, droning on and on as though nothing had happened, as though Logan was simply already asleep and quiet in his own bed. But the room was empty, the only sound to accompany the clock was Janus’ own breathing. After what felt like half the night, Logan quietly shuffled down the stone steps, foot falls echoing in the silence of the night. The door was nearly soundless as it opened and Janus lay still, feigning sleep.

Logan would want to talk. Would want to confess, to gain his absolution the way he’d grant it to his parish. Janus was in no mood to grant him anything.

He listened as Logan prepared for bed in the dark. His heart clenched at the quiet sniffles from the other side of the room. Logan was crying. Why the hell was he crying? Logan lingered near the closet and after several minutes, he murmured, almost to the clothes themselves, “I’m so sorry, Janus.” His voice was barely louder than a breath. Had the city been awake, it surely would’ve drowned out his words and Janus would have never heard what he said next.

“If you love him even half as much as I love you, I understand.”

Janus froze in his bed, afraid to breathe, afraid to reveal he was awake and had heard Logan’s confession. Blood roaring in his ears, he didn’t hear what else Logan said before he gently pressed the wardrobe door shut and climbed quietly into his own bed.

11 July 1789

Sleep was elusive but not impossible and the dawn had just begun to soak the horizon when Janus’ eyes finally slipped shut. By the time they reopened, bright mid-morning sun streamed through the little cracks around their closed shutters. Logan was gone. Janus squinted against the light. He’d left the shutters open, letting in the thin starlight and the chance for a bit of a breeze in the sweltering night. Logan must have shut them when he’d left, perhaps hoping to give him a bit more sleep. The city was busy, voices raised and more foot traffic past their window than usual. Everyone was likely trying to get in a bit of work and errands and visiting before the heat of the afternoon took them all.

Janus rose and dressed quickly. He had no way of knowing when exactly Logan had left, and he hoped to catch him in the café before too much of the morning had passed.

The city buzzed with energy, hushed voices speaking fervently at each corner. What had happened while he was gone? He pushed open the heavy oak door to the café and let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. Logan sat with his back to the door, hunched over the table, a bit of graphite in his hand and a short stack of parchment near his elbow. Engrossed in his work, he barely moved when the door clunked shut, but still his head jerked up when Patton called his name.

“Janus!” he cheered. “Let me get you a coffee!”

He nodded and made his way to Logan’s table. Head bowed, Logan watched him from the corner of his eye. “May I join you?”

Logan looked up and nodded, eyes wet. “Please,” he whispered.

They were both quiet as Patton brought a pot of coffee, letting his chattering about the heat, the new—gently stolen—water pump he and Remy had installed to support the growing afternoon crowds from the Sorbonne. “Those University students do tip well,” he said with a little shrug as he refilled Logan’s cup. “They want to pretend they’re working class but their purses are heavy,” he laughed. Finally, he smiled at each of them and excused himself before returning to the kitchen.

Logan searched for his words in the swirls of steam coming off his mug. Janus waited and slowly sipped at his cup, the smoky taste almost painting a smile across his face. He’d missed Patton’s coffee. The world’s everything at their fingertips in the palace kitchens and they couldn’t compete against the love that little server infused in his brew.

“I am sorry,” Logan finally said, ripping back Janus’ attention. “I was wrong to make assumptions and to…” He shook his head. “I said horrible things and I am sorry, Janus. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Lo,” Janus reached across the table and Logan flinched when he hesitated before taking his hand. “It’s not what you said that hurt,” he frowned, fingers tapping against the side of Logan’s fingers. His knuckles were more pronounced, as were the bones in his wrist. His fingertips were cold, even in the heat of the day. “It hurt,” Janus admitted. “But what was worse was that you didn’t trust me, that you believed that I would betray everything for… for pleasure. ”

Logan hung his head. “I don’t really believe that,” he whispered. “I… I was… was afraid. Afraid for your safety. It’s an incredible risk and…” He set down his cup and gripped Janus’ hand between both of his. “How do you know he won’t have you arrested? Have you…”

“He won’t.” Janus said. “He’s known who I was since the night we met.”

“What?” Logan hissed, leaning forward. “How could you—”

“I didn’t tell him. He had a courtier ask about ‘Sir Henri Juriste.’ Apparently my cover wasn’t as strong as we’d believed. The real Juriste is now at least thirty years my senior.” Janus rolled his eyes and finished his coffee. “But Remus waited for me to feel safe enough with him to admit the truth.”

“He’s a fool,” Logan muttered.

Janus yanked his hand back and glared at his friend. “Excuse me?” 

“I do not—” he sighed and folded his hands in his lap. “I mean he brought a known imposter into his palace. Into his bed.”

“That’s enough,” Janus’ voice was quiet but sharp.

“You could have caused him real harm,” Logan explained, softer. “How do you not see that?”

“I would never hurt him.”

“And if the cause demanded it?” Logan straightened in his seat, glaring back just as hard. “Have you forgotten what you’d gone to Versailles to do?”

“And I’m doing it. Prince Remus listens to my advice—”

Logan scoffed. “Perhaps in his private chambers.”

“It is not like that.” Janus insisted. “I am doing what you would advocate for. I’ve even gotten him to read bits of your treatise—”

“You what?” 

“None with your real name,” Janus crossed his arms over his chest. “It seems the Prince isn’t the only one you take for a fool.” He lowered his arms and leaned closer. “Like it or not, Prince Remus is the eldest son. He will take the throne when the King dies and King Remus will be amenable to our cause and will have the power and the heart to enact real change.”

“What has happened to you?” Logan sat back, eyes narrowed as he stared at his oldest friend like he’d never seen him before. “You were the best of us, you used your talents for the cause.” He slapped his hand on the table, punctuating each sentence. “You never forgot where you came from, never forgot what we were fighting for! And now?” Logan looked at him like something he’d scraped off his boots. “Now you're betraying our brotherhood, betraying our ideals, all in the name of some false love. You’ve known him for weeks , you didn’t tell him your real name until just now. That’s not love.”

“And I suppose you are the great expert on love?” Logan’s face fell and Janus wished he could rip his words back. “Lo, I��”

He only sat up straighter and finished his coffee. Patton was at his side before the empty cup had touched the scratched table top.  Logan waited silently while Patton poured, then shook his head at Janus. “You are blinded by the needs of your heart. And your flesh.”

Janus' hands shook and he stroked his ring. “Are you quite certain it is I who is blinded, Father Gérault?” 

Logan paled and looked away. Before he could respond, the café door slammed open and a half-dozen of the Garde Royale stomped inside. Conversation in the café dissolved, the faint bubble of the oat gruel Patton was preparing roared in the quiet.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Remy called out from the back room, clearly drawn by the sudden lack of ambient noise. “May I get you some coffee?” He raised a steel tankard. “On the house.” When they ignored him, he stepped closer, his full height suddenly obvious. “Or perhaps something stronger? A light ale on a summer’s day?”

Janus’s eyes widened when the palace steward stepped inside, peering through the relative darkness at each patron. His eyes landed on Janus and he pointed at their table.

Remy stepped forward, just barely in their path. “Surely it doesn’t take six guards to have a conversation with one of my patrons.” Janus looked around them. The guards had chosen their position well, blocking both the main entrance and the side door. There was a hatch hidden behind the counter, but there was no way Janus could reach it without being seen.

The steward ignored Remy and approached the table where Logan and Janus sat. “By order of the Dauphin, you are to come with me , Sir Juriste.”

“You have the wrong person,” Logan said in his ‘reasonable’ voice. He rose, shoving his papers to the side then held out his hands in benediction. “This is my friend, he is not a noble.”

“Well, perhaps your friend has been less than honest with you,” the steward remarked and pointed at the gold bracelet hanging from Janus’ wrist. “He wears the Dauphin’s fleur-de-lis. Besides…” The steward managed to sneer and simper at the same time. “I know his face.”

“It’s alright, Lo,” Janus said as he stood. “At least you get to say you were right after all.” His joke fell flat when he met Logan’s eyes. "Be safe," he murmured and gave shoulder a squeeze as he drew close and whispered in his ear. "I'm sorry, too."

The guards had fanned out, standing between Janus and the other patrons. And Patton and Remy. “Very well,” he said to the steward, chin held high. “More guards outside, I presume?”

The steward nodded and moved with staccato steps to the door. One of the guards held it open, and two led the way. The remaining three watched the patrons—and Remy—muskets at the ready. Just before he was swallowed by the glare of the midday sun, Janus nodded to Logan and Patton. And then he was gone.

The guards followed and the café door slammed shut again. Voices erupted in the café and Patton leapt out from behind the counter. “We have to do something!” Logan nodded, about to speak. He was interrupted by a loud voice carrying over the din.

“Oh, now you want to take action?” Colére spat from the corner, feet propped on the table. “Where was this fight when the people were ready to take up arms to defend our right to assemble?" He rose to his feet. "Where was this fight when the people were ready to defend our right to be heard in the Assembly?”

“You wanted to storm the palace with a handful of boys who could scarcely lift a musket.” Logan’s voice was low but the former priest knew how to keep an audience. “That’s not being heard, Lucas, that’s being massacred. They’ve likely taken Janus to the prison at the Bastille.” He gripped Colére’s shoulder. “There are more guns than prisoners there. We will not win this by might alone.” Colére’s eye twitched, but he listened and took his seat.

“We need information,” Logan said, and turned to address the small group that had assembled around him. “And we need a plan.”

[sanders-specs]

Writing prompts? Let's go.

Janus can turn into a dragon. This can be angsty cause Roman fights dragons, or cool as hell as he goes on sick flights around the mind/fantasy realm, maybe someone on his back a la how to train your dragon style. Maybe both angst and cool flying.

Midnight Ride

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Work has been killing me. But I had a lot of fun writing this! Janus, I've found, is a fun character to write. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: cursing, blood mention (Let me know if i need to add anymore)

There are many perks to being a figment of someone’s imagination. Being able to conjure anything and everything he wants whenever he wants. Being able to teleport anywhere in the mind palace that he pleases. But best of all, getting to shapeshift into anything or anyone he wants.

Now, Janus is no stranger to his shapeshifting capabilities. He’s used it to fool the others into thinking he was one of them. He’s used it to sneak around the others so as not to be bothered. Mostly, though, he uses it to fly.

See, there’s this room, accessible to all but mostly used by Roman and Remus. It’s called the Fantasy Realm (technically it’s the Daydream Room, as Logan has named it, but the prince and duke prefer Fantasy Realm and Janus is inclined to agree with them, as much as Roman would hate it, which only makes it even better). It’s an endless room with endless possibilities. Whatever Thomas’s mind can conjure up, it can happen in the Fantasy Realm. It was the better of Roman’s ides, back when they were younger and bored in class, as much as Logan detested it (which of course meant that Janus had to go along with it). A room that could mimic any setting, any landscape or space.

The twins typically use it as an outlet to flaunt their self-proclaimed titles. Roman has built an entire kingdom, and of course Remus has his corner of the room that is as horrific as the man himself. When Thomas uses it, it’s anything he wants it to be. When not in use, it’s anything the twins want it to be.

It’s not closed off to the other sides, exactly, but there was no doubt that the twins ruled over it. Still, though, Janus has caught the others going in and out. Logan walking in with a stack of books, quickly looking over his shoulder to see if he was alone. Virgil going in late at night, when the stars are out, and any constellation is possible. Patton—sweet, sweet Patton—freely walking in at any time of day and returning with flowers in his hair and sun on his cheeks.

As for Janus, well, Janus too will go whenever he wishes, ignoring the glares from the prince as he passes. Ignoring the jabs thrown his way from Virgil. There was no rule saying he couldn’t and even if there was, Janus probably wouldn’t follow it. It wouldn’t be fair, after all, for a room as grand as this to be limited to two sides.

And when Janus does go in, and he wonders through the forest that surrounds Roman’s kingdom and separates it from Remus’s…whatever it is, he allows himself to transform.

His limbs grow and widen, his back sprouts big, leathery wings, and he can feel the grumble in his throat, the start of a roar. He can feel it as the rest of his skin turns to scales, matching the half of his face that is the only indication of what he can really look like.

And when he’s done, almost as tall as the trees around him, he bends his legs and launches himself in the air, flapping his wings to propel him further up and up and up. And then he’s air born, and oh, oh. How wonderful it is, to be up and watch everything become so small. All the little people in Roman’s villages, all of the creatures Remus created to prowl the forests, all of them just little dots on the ground until even they are gone and it’s just trees and that ridiculous castle in the distance.

Janus can spend hours just flying. The wind whistling through his ears, over his scales and wings. There’s nothing quite like it. During his flights, there’s no arguments, no dilemmas, no drastically overdramatic world ending squabble. It was just him and his wings and the sky.

One night, when he was leaving the Fantasy Realm, Janus was so focused on shrugging his wings away that he ran right into someone. Annoyed, Janus opened his mouth to tell off whichever side it was, only to realize that it was Patton, and he stopped short. He regarded the other side carefully.

Ever since they came to see eye to eye, things had been…well not perfect, but tolerable between the two of them. Patton certainly treated Janus more like a person than the others did, save for maybe Logan, though the old logical side was still holding a grudge about impersonating him. Quite illogical, if you asked Janus.

“Sorry Jan!” Patton said. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Yes,” Janus said. “Clearly.”

Patton shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Sure, things might have been better, but they were now…awkward as well. “Um, were you just coming out of Fantasy Realm?”

Dear lord Janus hated the way Patton said it. It sounded like he was asking Janus if he had just returned from Fantasy Land at Disney World, and not the great skies.

Oh, dear that was where Roman got the name, wasn’t it?

Heaving a sigh, Janus managed a smile towards Patton that he almost hoped wasn’t too condescending. “Yes, Patton, yes I have. I too can enjoy the worlds of fantasy, every now and again.”

“Oh I didn’t mean to say you couldn’t—”

“Alas,” Janus said, cutting him off, “my time has been cut short this go around due to Thomas needing a little…push.”

Patton pursed his lips and nodded. “Right. The video for tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’m going to go let him know that it’s a good idea to stay up all night rather than get the right amount of sleep that he needs,” Janus said, walking past Patton. “Just a wonderful idea, don’t you think…Pat?”

“Oh um,” Patton stuttered, “I mean, I think that—wait, you’re lying right?”

Janus threw a smirk over his shoulder at the moral side. “You’ve come to know me so well, haven’t you.”

Patton rocked back on his feet. “I still can’t tell.”

Janus sighed again and waved him off. “Go about doing what you were doing.”

“Alright I’ll see you later Jan!” Patton called after him as he continued walking down the hall.

It was late. Janus knew that it was late. He knew that he should be asleep. Yet he found himself walking towards the Fantasy Realm, in desperate need of a flight. He was in his pajamas, nothing but a t-shirt, some black and yellow checkered pajama pants, and some house shoes as he checked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone and slipping into the room.

Fresh air and the sound of the forest greeted him. Animals and beasts alike made the forest around him seem alive. He supposed that it was.

Janus only walked a few steps into the room before he started shifting. In no time he was full dragon, stretching out his wings and digging into the earth with his claws. He shook off the last of his human self and turned his head up towards the awaiting sky. He was about to launch himself upward when he heard a gasp.

Startled, Janus looked down and saw a flash of bright blue and grey. He leaned down and narrowed his yellow-green eyes.

Looking up at him, mouth agape, was Patton. He too was in his pajamas, blue pj pants with white pawprints on them, and he was wearing his hoodie properly, rather than just wrapped around his shoulders. His eyes were wide as he stared up at Janus.

“J-Janus?!”

Janus blew out a puff of smoke from his mouth. Talking, he found, was rather difficult when you were a dragon. He’d tried, out of curiosity, but nothing but grumbling roars came out. It never mattered, anyway. He was always alone.

Slowly, Patton lowered his hands from his mouth. “Jan, goodness gracious, look at you!”

Janus rolled his eyes and shifted, not missing how the other side tensed, as if to bolt. “I didn’t know you could do that,” Patton said.

Janus cocked his head to the side. Were the others so caught up in their righteousness, that they didn’t realize the capability of their powers? Had Virgil not told them? Had they never seen the purple and black cat roaming around from time to time? Or that there was a reason that his room was covered in spider webs?

Janus flapped his wings once, sending a gust of wind in Patton’s direction. Patton stumbled back a bit but kept his footing. Impressive, he supposed.

“Don’t worry,” Patton said with a laugh. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Janus rolled his eyes again and turned his head towards the sky. What did he care if the others knew? It wasn’t his fault that they didn’t pay attention.

“So what are you doing up so late?” Patton asked, pulling his hood over his head and tugging at the strings. “Oh, wait, you can’t answer.” He smiled, like he’d just made a joke.

How oh how to make him go away? Janus supposed that he could just take off, but a part of him, the nice part, didn’t want to completely take Patton out. He needed to be a safe distance away before Janus could take off, otherwise Patton would be thrown back several feet.

And the last thing he needed was another reason for the others to dislike him.

So instead, Janus settled for a growl and digging his claws into the ground. He brought his tail around and nudged Patton away, but instead of getting the message, Patton only patted his tail. “Yellow and black huh? Just on brand for you.” Patton laughed like he just made the funniest joke in the world. Janus growled again and nudged Patton even further away.

“Whoa Jan, careful there,” Patton said as he stumbled backward. He grabbed Janus’s tail to balance himself. “You almost knocked me over.”

Janus was about to just walk away when he heard the sound of a door opening. Panic shot through Janus, and he did the only thing that he could think of doing. He launched himself into the air, Patton be damned.

He was so focused on getting away that he forgot that Patton still had ahold of his tail. He didn’t remember until he heard a scream behind him.

Glancing back, Janus cursed in his head. Patton was hanging on for dear life, his arms and legs wrapped around the end of his tail.

Janus blew out a puff of smoke. He flicked his tail upward, and felt Patton let go. The other side screamed as he flailed through the air. Janus easily maneuvered himself so he caught Patton on his back. Patton flailed for a moment, but with a quick thought, a saddle appeared on the Janus’s back, giving Patton a handhold.

Patton settled on the saddle, leaning forward to pat Janus’s neck. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus only kept flying, higher and higher until they were above the clouds. He glided through the air and for a little while, he forgot that he had a rider. At least until Patton let out a loud “Whoop!” that startled him out of his trance.

Glancing back, he saw that Patton was sitting up, holding his arms out on either side of him. His glasses were askew from being thrown around, and his hair was a mess from the wind. Still, though, there was a look of elation on his face.

Suddenly, Janus got an idea. He started to pick up speed, flapping his wings harder to propel him forward. He started to straighten himself and he heard Patton let out a squeak before grabbing onto Janus’s neck, rath than the saddle, which was only slightly annoying. He propelled them up and up before tucking in his wings and stopping them all together. For a moment, they hung there, suspended in air before they started falling.

“Janus!” Patton yelled, but Janus only turned his body so they were falling into a nosedive. It was only when they were about to hit the trees that he spread his wings out again and shot them back into the sky.

A glance back at Patton showed a mix of horror and relief on his face and Janus couldn’t help but smirk. Good.

They soared over the trees, the kingdom, for a while before suddenly, something sharp and painful hit his underbelly. Janus let out a roar and nearly threw himself off course. Patton, dear Patton, hung on as best he could. Another sharp pain, then another, and another. Janus tried to fly higher, and it helped a little, but the damage was done when it hit his wing. He started losing altitude, slowly lowering over the trees.

“Janus!” Patton yelled, sounding panicked. Janus felt him crawl around on his back, though what he was doing, Janus had no idea. “Arrows!” Patton yelled eventually. “Someone’s shooting at us!”

A quick, panicked glance around showed that Janus had flown too close to the castle, to where the stupid prince spent half his free time. Great. Just great.

Janus tired to change course, tried to get his stupid wings to work with him, but another volley of arrows came his way and he couldn’t handle the pain any longer. He started going down, fast. He tumbled into the trees, the limbs scraping at him and Patton. Distantly, Janus could hear Patton screaming. All he could do was twist so that way he would land on his belly, keeping Patton from being crushed.

They hit the ground hard. So hard that Patton bounced before rolling off of Janus.

Patton groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. Janus let out a puff of smoke. At least he was alive.

“Are you okay?” Patton asked, getting to his feet. He looked daze, but he still turned worried eyes to Janus, who just rolled onto his side.

“Patton!” a voice called.

Patton looked around confused, as did Janus. But it was a voice that was, unfortunately, unmistakable.

Roman came riding into the clearing they’d crashed in, riding—good god of course—a unicorn with a rainbow mane. He had his sword out, pointed directly at Janus.

“Patton are you okay?” Roman asked, not taking his eyes off Janus, who kept eye contact with him.

“Okay?” Patton nearly screamed, and the anger in his voice made Janus glance over at him. “Roman what were you thinking?”

“Logan said you’d been taken by a beast,” Roman said. “I had to rescue you!”

“Taken—” Patton paused and took a breath. “Roman, this is my friend. And what made you think shooting at both of us would help?”

Roman’s sword faltered slightly as he glanced at the other side. “So…you’re not in mortal peril?”

“No,” Patton said decisively.

“Well then,” Roman said, waving his hand and making his sword disappear. “Sorry for the misunderstanding. And for the whole, you know, shooting you out of the sky thing.”

Though Roman wasn’t talking to him, Janus still felt the need to let out a puff of smoke. Roman gave him a nervous side eye. “Where did you even find such a creature? It’s not one of Remus’s creations and certainly not one of mine.”

“You’re not the only one with abilities here,” Patton said, crossing his arms.

Roman frowned, studied Janus another moment or two, and shrugged. “You’re right. Shall you and your companion accompany me back to my castle?”

Janus’s claws dug into the earth and he extended his wings, all on instinct. Like hell he’d go to the godforsaken place.

“Uh, maybe next time kiddo,” Patton said. “I think I’m ready to call it a night.”

Roman shrugged. “Very well. Off we go Sir Jasmington!” and with that, he and his rainbow unicorn rode away.

Janus made sure he was a good distance away before he started to shift, shrinking back into his human body and clothes. The scales melted away, except for those that were too stubborn. When Patton turned back to him, he sighed. “Are you okay?” He asked sincerely.

Janus looked down. His clothes were untouched and thanks to his own abilities, he was able to heal himself, mostly, and conjure the blood away. Still, though, it hurt. “I will be fine,” he said, waving away Patton’s’ concern before looking him up and down. “Though I suppose I should be asking you that same question?”

“Oh, me?” Patton laughed. “It takes more than a bonk to the head to tear this old man up.”

Janus rolled his eyes, but he had to admit that a part of him was…glad. The last thing he wanted, of course, was for question to arise as to why Patton had a sudden concussion.

Patton cleared his throat and turned to a spot between two trees. He waved his hand and a door appeared. Another perk of the Fantasy Realm. The door in and out appeared wherever one wished.

“Patton,” Janus said, and Patton turned to look at him. “Why did you lie? To Roman, just then?”

Patton looked confused for a moment before he smiled. “Did I, Jan?” He asked, sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling towards the door. “Goodnight,” he called over his shoulder as he opened he door and walked through, leaving it open behind him.

Janus watched him go, and though he quickly hid it, a smile danced across his face. He cleared his throat and started towards the door, rubbing at his aching shoulder. He didn’t think he’d be flying again any time soon.

[tssidesfics]

Requests: Analogince where they’re human and also single dads? And they all meet because their kids fought and got called to the principals office

Virgil's POV

Upsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you got to raise a beautiful, special boy with a sharp mind. You got to teach him all the coping mechanisms you'd painstakingly learned over the years to cope with his condition and watch as he lit up over the things that brought him joy. You got to watch as he zipped from topic to topic, brighter than the sun, mind racing at a million miles an hour. You got to be the first person to hear about his beautifully creative ideas. You got to have a reason for living, all yours and wonderful, that you didn't have to share with anyone else.

Downsides to being a single father to a child with ADHD: you had no one else to pass the buck to when he got in trouble at school.

"It'll be fine," I chanted to myself for the billionth time as I turned off the ignition and unbuckled myself, gripping the steering wheel and forcing deep, measured breaths. "It'll be fine. He probably won't get expelled for this. This is his first fight and you don't even know why he got into a fight. You didn't raise a bully, so he was probably defending himself or another kid." Terror clasped me around the throat and squeezed. "But what if you did raise a bully and you didn't realize it, and now you've sentenced your son to a life of crime trying to make up for the hole in his heart where his father should have loved him oh God I broke my son!"

Immediately, my therapist's voice spoke up in my mind. You're catastrophizing again, he said in that obnoxiously aware, gentle way of his. Calm down. Take it one step at a time.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, focusing on the feeling of my stomach and then my chest expanding with air. I let it out through pursed lips, a quiet whistle in the exhale.

I'd played through scenarios like this a million times in my mind. The second Cassie told me, five months pregnant with tears streaming down her cheeks, that she didn't want the baby, I'd prepared myself for any possibility. I'd created contingency plans and contingency plans for my contingency plans, because I knew how much harsher the world would be on him. With a grandparent, his biological mother, and me all with ADHD, there hadn't been any doubt Drew would get it, too, and I'd prepared for that. I'd prepared for the possibility that poor grades and emotional dysregulation would put him on the back foot and even get him expelled. I'd taught him all the coping mechanisms I could. I'd tried to show him as much love and patience as I could muster, and I'd show him the same now. We'd get through this. We would make it through this.

I nodded, resolute, even as doubt and worry niggled at the back of my mind. I'd raised Drew alone, without any support from my parents or Cassie, working a call center job that barely paid enough to live off of. I'd demanded a child psychiatrist the second Drew started displaying symptoms and beat the system for the help he deserved. I'd beat the system for the help I deserved. I was a badass. I was a badass.

I got out of the car.

The two people at the front desk--a woman with strawberry blonde hair and a baby-faced guy--looked over, presumably torn from their conversation, when I walked through the door. The woman swiveled her chair to face me with a friendly smile. "Hello there," she said. "How may I help you?"

I forced myself to look her in the eyes and strained through a smile. If you act like a weirdo, it'll just make things worse for Drew. "Hey," I said. "I'm, uh...Drew Griffith's father. You called me and--"

"Oh!" She gestured to the side, at a door that read: PRINCIPAL MOROZOV. "He's in there."

I looked over and gulped, staring in fear at the door. "Say, uh..." I smiled at the woman as politely as I could. "You wouldn't happen to know the correct social etiquette for talking to the principal after your son gets into a fight at school, would you?"

She gave me a funny look. "Huh?"

"Never mind." I hung my head in defeat and commenced the walk of dread to the front door of the office. The wall facing me was all glass, which meant I could see inside. Two adults, one natural-haired in a polo shirt with his arm around one of the kids in the chair beside him and the other behind a desk, looking stern. I couldn't see the other two kids or any other adults.

And then Principal Morozov spotted me through the glass and shit, I was out of time.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. "Sorry it took me so long," I said, hoping that was the right thing to say. "It was hard getting off work."

"It's all right," Principal Morozov said. "We haven't even reached Mr. Accardo yet."

"Hey, Dad," came the halfhearted voice of Drew, hidden behind a chair too big for him, especially when he slumped in it like that.

I peered over the top and smiled at him softly. "What the heck, kid?" I asked.

"He called Patton a freak." Drew pointed at the kid in the middle, with a busted nose and--oh God.

He had scattered burn marks across the right side of his face, with two differently-colored eyes and a scowl.

"So of course you had to beat me up," the kid sneers. "Because that's a perfectly rational, healthy thing to do."

The third kid--Patton, I presumed--bounced in his seat, humming in distress. His father, a man wearing glasses and a polo shirt with a tie, rubbed his back.

"I don't see why my son has to be here," the other father said, looking at Principal Morozov. "He didn't do anything."

“Patton sits alone at lunch time and doesn’t have any friends,” the principal said. “We think if he tried to get along with his peers better, he’d have a happier time here.”

“Or, you know, you could make an effort to teach your students not to bully kids who are different from them,” I grumbled.

“What was that, Mr. Griffiths?”

I hesitated, glancing up at Principal Morozov, then back at Drew. On one hand, I wanted to lead by example: teach Drew that it was okay to stand up to authority for what he believed. On the other, sometimes, you had to pay lip-service to authority just to stay out of trouble. It was a lesson no child had the mental capacities to understand, but I supposed I’d have to do my best to teach him, because if I gave Principal Morozov cheek, he might expel Drew.

“Nothing, sir,” I said, feeling like a child cowering beneath the glare of my teachers again. I prepared to search for the bullshit in the story I was about to get fed and asked, “What happens now?”

"I'd prefer to wait for Mr. Accardo," the principal said.

"Roman teaches at a high school," the bully grumbled, slouched over with a glare fixated on the desk. "He's probably in the middle of class."

"Then you're going to have to stay after school to address this," Principal Morozov told him sternly.

"Whatever."

I had a very bad feeling about that kid. The scars on his face told a frightening story. He could just as easily be bullied for those as Drew got bullied for his ADHD and Patton for being a loner, which probably meant he turned that abuse outward and attacked others for their perceived differences in a never-ending cycle of abuse.

What? I could be bad at people and have a special interest in human psychology. Those two things were not mutually exclusive.

Suddenly, the door banged open. I jumped out of my skin, clamping a hand over my chest and struggling to breathe levelly, eyes crushed shut and body frozen. Then I heard the babbling.

"I'm sorry!" The principal's door opened. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The kids were in the middle of rehearsal and--Janus, what happened? I'm so sorry, Mr. Morozov." A frazzled man with warm skin rushed inside and sat down next to the bully--Janus--hastily hugging him and turning his attention to the principal.

I frowned at the scene. I withheld judgment and looked at Principal Morozov as he said, "All right. Now that you're all here, there are going to be some serious consequences to what happened today."

********

"I can't believe you let him give me detention!" Drew whined. "Janus deserved to get punched!"

"And you deserve to die abandoned and unloved in a ditch, steeping in your own feces," Janus snapped.

"Janus," his father, Roman, said firmly, kneeling down and taking him by the shoulders. Janus tried to turn away from him, but Roman lightly shook him and made him meet his eyes. He softened. "I know how much you're hurting, but a hero never redirects his pain onto others. There are other ways."

"What if I don't want to be a hero?" Janus snapped. "What if I want to be the bad guy?"

"I don't believe that," Roman said gently, adjusting his bangs. "I don't think you do, either."

Janus turned from him sharply, crossing his arms and glaring at the asphalt. He sniffled.

Drew glanced up at me in confusion and I rubbed his back. "Sometimes," I said gently, "when people are hurting, they deal with that by hurting other people."

"That's stupid," Drew said with the blunt confidence of a ten-year-old.

"Maybe a little," I agreed, "but humans aren't always logical." Drew wrinkled his nose. "I know. It's so annoying, but it's true. You're not always logical, either. Remember when you burst out crying because your pencil broke?"

"Dad!" Drew turned bright red.

Roman chuckled. "So." He stood up and crossed his arms. "You're the little rascal who dared challenge Janus to a duel for--Patton, right?" He looked at Mr. Davis--or Logan, as he'd introduced himself--who nodded. "You're the rascal who challenged Janus to a duel for Patton's honor," Roman finished.

"He was being an asshole," Drew protested.

"I'd say it's not my fault he uses that language," I said through a wince, "but it's definitely my fault he uses that language."

"I'm the same way with Janus, don't worry." Roman chuckled--a low, rumbly sound. He turned back to Drew. "You're got a paladin's heart and a temper. I was a lot like you when I was a kid."

Drew snorted. "You think you're cute, don't you?"

"He's always like this," Janus said, shoving in front of Roman. "He thinks it's so inspiring to talk about heroes all the time, like fairy tales are the best thing ever."

"That's gotta be annoying," Drew said, wrinkling his nose.

"It is." Janus stopped and scowled. "Don't relate to me!"

"Ew! You're a jerk! Get away from me!"

I exchanged a fond, exasperated look with Roman, who chuckled and squeezed Janus' shoulder. "Hey," he said, "maybe, if you apologized, you could have a friend."

"I don't want to apologize."

"So you'd rather another kid think you're a horrible person!"

Janus hesitated a moment before straightened his back. "Yes."

"I don't believe that."

I glanced over at Logan and saw that he was busy talking to Patton, kneeling on the ground and smoothing his hands over his shoulders in measured strokes. It seemed to soothe Patton. I looked at Drew.

"You know how it sometimes hurts you when you think about your Aunt Cassie?" I said softly, pulling him into my side as the shadow washed over his face.

"He called Patton a freak, Dad," Drew argued. "He's not even really my friend, but he's not a freak. He's just...different. Like me."

"I know, kiddo," I said, squeezing him against my side. "You don't have to give him a chance. He hasn't asked forgiveness, and you wouldn't owe him one even if you did. I just know you don't like to see people struggling alone."

Drew hesitated.

I looked over at Logan. "How's Patton?"

Logan glanced back at me, then looked at Patton. "Do you want to answer?"

Patton hesitated.

"It's okay," I said, not looking at his face. Patton hadn't made eye contact with a single person, including his father, since I'd met him. He clearly had more trouble with it than I did, and I wasn't always a huge fan. "I'm autistic, too."

Patton immediately perked up. "Really?"

"Yeah." I smiled, looking over the top of his head. I looked at Drew. "Can I tell him about you?"

"I'm ADHD," Drew told him, turning to him. "I got diagnosed last year."

"Oh cool!" Patton flapped his hands at his sides and bounced eagerly. "I don't, I don't think, because I'm actually pretty good at focusing most of the time and I have a really good memory, but Dad says autism and ADHD are really close together. It's really nice to meet someone else! I don't have many friends."

"Well, I guess you have me," Drew said. "I didn't get in trouble defending you for nothing."

Patton squealed and continued stimming enthusiastically. Drew offered a hug, which Patton considered for a long moment before accepting.

Logan smiled softly at the exchange and looked over to me. "You've raised a very kind son."

"More than half of it is all him," I said. "I do the best I can, but...I'm just one person. He's probably gonna hate me once he's a teenager."

"Nuh-uh!" Drew objected, charging over to embrace me around the middle. I smiled and hugged him close, squeezing him as tight as was safe. He grunted.

I caught Janus staring at us. I couldn't read his expression. He was glaring, but I had a feeling it wasn't anger. But clearly, Roman did understand it, because he knelt down and hugged him close, even when he tried to push him away. He just held fast. I thought for sure Janus would react badly--he hadn't wanted to be held, what was wrong with Roman?--but then he slowly relaxed and leaned against him. I still couldn't read him very well, but that...didn't look particularly resigned.

"You know," Roman said, pulling back after a long while, "I bet Drew and Patton would be willing to forgive you if you really, really earnestly apologized."

Janus shoved away from him, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground. "I don't want to apologize."

Roman sighed heavily, and Drew whirled on him. "You're such a freaking jerk!" he screamed. "What's wrong with you? Why do you have to be a jerk to everyone? I tried to be your friend and you just spit on me!"

"I don't want your pity!"

"It wasn't pity!"

"It's always pity!" Janus screeched. "You think I don't know what these scars make me? You think I don't know I'm a freak? If the fire didn't teach me that, then my parents sure did! I'm nothing! The only reason anyone would be nice to me is pity and I don't want anyone's pity! I just want to be left alone!"

Janus turned and ran. Roman chased after him frantically, never sparing Logan or I a glance.

Drew and Patton stood stunned. Drew looked at Patton, who stared at his forehead. "Well..." he said. "What the heck am I supposed to do now?"

Patton ran in the direction of Janus.

At that point, about the only thing for Drew and I to do was chase after his new friend, hot on the heels of his father.

We found Patton with his backpack unzipped, standing beside Janus' car door, already buckled in with Roman partway into the driver's seat, holding out a picture of a flower.

"It's ivy," Patton said. "It means friendship."

Janus stared at him through the window, unmoving. Patton, to my shock, held his gaze for one, two moments and then averted his eyes. Logan hurried over to hold him, clearly expecting Janus to reject him again.

Janus opened the car door. "Why would you want to be my friend?"

"He didn't say he wanted to be your friend," Drew sneered. "He just said it meant friendship, dummy."

"Drew," I chided softly, and he recoiled into my side.

"Because it's nice to know I'm not the only one who can't make any friends," Patton said. "I like having other friends who are special."

"I'm not special," Janus snapped.

"Dad says that being different is always special, because different people have discovered some of the coolest, prettiest things ever."

"It's true," Logan said. "Albert Einstein, Hans Christian Anderson, and Michelangelo. were all autistic."

"See?" Patton bounced and beamed at Janus. "So maybe we can all be different and special together and do really cool things one day! Like the three Musketeers."

Janus considered strongly. "I'm Athos."

"You can be whoever you want to be!" Patton said earnestly. "Then we can all have lots of musketcheer."

Drew, Roman and I choked on a laugh. Logan shook his head fondly. "He watches one sitcom that likes puns and he suddenly won't stop," he said.

Even Janus cracked a small smile. He accepted the paper. "Fine," he said. "We can have musketcheer."

Drew pouted. "Does this mean I'm your friend now?"

"Yes," Patton said firmly, looking at him.

Drew jumped, looking fearfully at Patton, who somehow managed to look intimidating while also avoiding eye contact. He looked up at me. "What have I done?" he asked.

"Made friends." I rubbed his back. I looked around. "We should probably get all these guys home. They've had a long day, and school will be letting out soon."

"I guess now that all our kids are friends, I'll be seeing more of you," Roman said to both Logan and me.

Logan hummed. "I presume so. Patton does not own a phone of his own. I can give you my number if your children wish to contact him?"

"I hate to say it, but you should probably get him his own phone," I said. "It's dangerous not to have one. If I ever lost sight of Drew...I'd rather he have a phone."

Logan considered this. "I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, for the moment, you'll have to go through me to reach Patton."

"Don't have to ask me twice. Here." Roman accepted Logan's phone and typed in Janus' number, then passing it to Drew, who stared at it for a moment.

I recited his number to him and he punched it in. "Don't worry, kid," I said. "One day, you're going to have to tell so many doctors your number that it's going to be emblazoned on your brain."

After all numbers had been exchanged, I shook Logan's and Roman's hands goodbye and let Patton and Drew embrace again. Janus stayed stubbornly in his seat, refusing any sort of affection, which kind of concerned me, but then Roman whispered, "This is the most receptive he's been since I started fostering him."

I nodded and smiled, leading Drew back toward the car. He looked at me. "I guess I have friends now."

I glanced back toward Roman's car as it drove away and caught Logan's eye as he loaded into his own. He smiled at me.

"Yeah," I said. "I think I might have, too."

[candied-peach]

ao3: “when the bell tolls” rating: T warnings: intruloceit, unsympathetic orange, character death mostly off screen (sorry orange), blood, vampire!orange, vampire!logan, werewolf!remus genre: angst with a happy ending description: Janus is in dire straits when his boyfriends show up. (day 18: “Do you not know that to-night, when the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have full sway?” — Bram Stoker, Dracula @tsshipmonth2020 )

"Don't cry," the orange-draped man cooed, stroking a finger down the scaled side of Janus's cheek and making him shudder. "Don't you want to be good?"

No, no, Janus did not. He doesn't know what this man has planned, but it can't be anything good. He's already marked as different by his scales- he's used to harassment, but not this.

Never this.

The clock chimes midnight and the orange-draped man's smile widens, revealing needle-like fangs. Janus pales. Vampire.

"You're my little gift to myself," Orange tells him in a conversational tone. "I've been so thirsty the past few months. But you're going to make up for it." His smile is vulpine sharp. "I'm afraid you won't survive."

Hearing that, Janus's eyes widen and he thrashes harder in his restraints, hoping against hope that Orange has messed up somewhere and he can break them. Nothing. He remains trapped.

"I'm sorry," Orange starts to say, in a patently false voice, before the window by the door shatters and something enormous and hairy bowls Orange over like a toy. A low growl sounds through the room and Janus's blood freezes, because he's not sure if this is a rescue or if he's just ended up a werewolf's chew toy (something infinitely worse than a vampire's plaything, in his mind). Then he recognizes his boyfriend's familiar shaggy shape and relaxes marginally.

"Get the fuck away from my boyfriend," a wonderfully familiar voice snarls, as Logan makes his way through the broken glass to Janus's side. His eyes are nearly glowing red with fury, and he snaps Janus's bonds with ease, just as Remus steps back a little, letting Orange get up if he wants to. He wisely remains on the floor.

"Thank you," Janus whispers, as Logan sweeps him up into his arms. Tears glitter in his eyes, tracing down his cheeks. His arms ache and his wrists are stained red from the restraints.

"Hey!" Orange calls after them, his voice quivering. "Call your dog off!"

"Dog?" Logan exchanges a look with Janus, then Remus, who's still bristling. "Hey, Remus? Get 'em."

Logan opens the door one-handed and carries Janus into the cool night air, urging him to ignore the sounds of carnage coming from inside. Janus weeps with relief when the moon shines down on him. He thought he'd never see it again.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Logan asks, worry softening his eyes.

"Just the bonds," Janus says. "He uh, he was going to feed on me, but you and Remus got there first."

"Good," Logan says. "No one's allowed to feed on you."

"Exactly," Remus says, loping up. There is red on his muzzle, and it turns Janus's stomach a little. "He can't bother you anymore," Remus says frankly. "He's werewolf chow." He licks his lips, and Janus's stomach flips again.

"Remus!" Logan mildly scolds, noting the sick look on Janus's face. "Save the play by play for later, perhaps?"

"Fiiiine," Remus acquiesces. "I'll tell you all the gushy details later."

"Thank you," Logan says, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Janus's forehead.

Janus's eyes droop, as he finally feels himself fully relax for the first time in hours.

"Love you," he mumbles. "Thank you."

"I'll always protect you," Logan says, as Remus chatters that it's his pleasure. Janus smiles weakly, pushing the memory of Orange's face out of his head.

He's safe.

[goodieghostyarchive]

Hmmm angst ideas...

Virgil actually had a big crisis when his spider stuff showed up. He nearly ate his bf and his best friend screamed in horror just looking at him. He crawled up in the hardest to reach corner and hissed at anything and anyone that tried to help

Poor spider, usually Patton would be the one to comfort him. But he uh, is a lil indisposed atm lol. Virgil just feels horrible about the whole thing.

Janus is the one who has to convince him to come down, and ofc Virgil bites him. But Janus is so unfazed. "It's all instinct, Virgil. Do you know how many times I've bitten Patton during feeding time and not meant to do so?"

Janus is ah, also practically blind in this au. Like many snakes, his vision is very poor. This is definitely an excuse to give him glasses.

Also Janus is at the center because he got caught in a barbed wire fence and his jaw was dislocated. He's mostly healed now. He chooses to stay. Free food. A farmer called animal control and the call was intercepted by the facility. Thankfully no one could see the human bit of this giant creature because Janus has balled himself up good.

Logan told the farmer "you know how people will abandon their goldfish and put them in ponds and they'll get huge? Same thing with some snakes." Because there's no way he can just say "oh anaconda" when the farm is no where near where they originate. "All that selective breeding, a larger environment. Big snakes. We'll pay for any loss and damages and take it off your hands."

Patton had to fight this thing as he was removing the wire because they couldn't reach the soft human skin to sedate and his scales kept breaking the needles. Janus is scared and in pain, but soon realizes whatever this is is just trying to help. He still hasn't seen Patton.

Janus is all banged up. His scales may be tough, but he'd been trying to twist and turn his way out of the wire for hours and that certainly didn't help. And-oh, it's a human that's been helping him. Janus knows how to speak so many human languages. So he understands everything Patton is saying. Which includes "You're doing great.... oh I know it hurts, but we don't want your scales growing around this.... I've only ever seen baby nagas, they bit me more times than I can count. You're way more polite..... aww handsome face! Lookit yoooouuu! You were hiding this?" Basically just babbling as he worked, while not knowing he's being understood. And my personal favorite "I don't know if you're male or female and there's one way to check but I don't think we're good enough friends for that." Nagas also have a high chance of being born with both sex characteristics but Janus isn't about to tell this stranger that. It's a survival thing that evolved over time. Cuz nagas are rare in areas with high human populations and when mating season comes along it's difficult to find males.

Also I just think it'd be hilarious if Janus laid eggs and Patton started freaking out about being a father. But they're all slugs-unfertilized. So he basically just spilled the beans that he's in a relationship with Janus for no reason. Logan is very stressed.

Janus only speaks after his jaw is good and healed. And during the entire time there Patton is still doing the baby talk stuff. "You know I can understand you." Patton is now deceased. Lol

But ye, Janus teaches Virgil the ropes. To the best of his abilities. They are two very different species after all. But Janus is ancient. He knows many things

[sidespromptblog]

A Close Friend: (1/2)

Two

Warnings: Suicidal Ideal (Logan), Hurt/ Comfort, Angst, Logan is not okay, Roman is trying his best, and Crying (Logan mostly). 

Summary:  Roman goes to Logan in order to vent and ramble about everything that had happened about Thomas, Patton, and Janus. But in the process finds Logan dealing with his own bottled emotions, as well as an uncomfortable thought that Logan has been dealing with as of late that leaves Roman scared for Logan’s own safety. So he decided to help, in whatever way that he can.

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 2,783

With an angry buried snarl of outrage Roman rose up into the mind space, and away from Thomas, Patton, and the lying side that caused this ruckus of emotions to take over inside of him. The outrage he felt right now was all consuming, to the point where he felt like putting his fist through any number of walls right this very second. His very fists shook with the idea of it and the pain that it would cause him to do such a thing, he contemplated it, it would be an outlet for all of his complicated emotions… even if it wasn’t necessarily a healthy one at that. Although he could pretend that it was Deceit’s face the entire time, just to sooth a little bit of the pain in his body and heart.

“This is ridiculous.” Roman snorted, more to himself rather than anyone who would listen to him. “I’m not punching something just because of that.. that liar!” Roman angrily kicked his boots off, rather satisfied with how one went flying in one direction and the other thumped against the railing of the stairs narrowly avoiding their family photos that Patton had insisted they have.

Roman could only scowl at those photos now, even if most of the people in them had no idea right now just what he was so angry about.

Would they even understand if he were to tell them? Would they get it? Would they even listen to him to begin with?

Or would they just say he was being too dramatic?

Virgil certainly would, he almost never went to the emo to vent about anything to him. It was almost always the other way around. Virgil rambling about the things that worried him, and things that he was scared would happen in the future. If he were to vent about anything to Virgil, he was almost certain that he’d be stopped and told he was just making the other side’s anxiety worse by bringing the things up. Not that it was entirely Virgil’s fault, he couldn’t help it if things triggered that anxiety. But just once…

He like to have someone to vent to, and not be the constant emotional whoopie cushion for everyone to overlook unless they needed something from him.

He needed someone who was…

Less emotional than the others.

Someone who…

An idea raced across his mind in a flash, “Logan!” He shouted, tearing his way upstairs and towards the logical side’s room, his bare feet skipping the steps of the stairs in an effort to get there faster. “You are not going to believe what happened today!” The overwhelmed sensation that had been flooding his chest finally gave way to something that felt like relief, as he stood outside of the other’s door.

Logan would listen, he'd listen objectively, but he’d still listen to him.

“Logan-”

Roman stopped dead as his hands had pushed open Logan’s door, he had never bothered to knock in the past and now was no exception. But the sound that had graced his ears made his heart drop into his stomach, and fear tangle his inside.

It was…

Sobbing.

Muffled sobbing, so silent that had he just been walking by he wouldn’t have heard it at all. It was only by stepping into Logan’s room that he’d heard it all, his heart twisted at the sound. He’d never heard Logan cry, unlike the others whom he had comforted many times after their own nightmares, emotions, and turmoils… Logan had never come to him for anything like this, if anything, Logan had never come to him at all. The silence of the other’s cries spoke volumes as to why, the logical side was probably used to bottling things up and forcing himself to stay as quiet as possible to not alert everyone around him about his own turmoils that he must’ve been going through.

How many times had Logan done this, and nobody was the wiser of it?

How many times had Logan bit his tongue when they had said something cruel to him, just to cry like he was now?

“Logan?” He saw the logical side’s back stiffen almost immediately upon hearing Roman’s voice, his jaw clenching shut as he attempted to quiet the heaving of his lungs. “What’s wrong?” Almost immediately the thoughts of venting to Logan went right out the window, he had been angry and overwhelmed yet, but right now… Logan needed his help, he needed…

A hero.

Logan sniffled, inhaling and exhaling in a way that told Roman he wasn’t getting enough air in him to stop from heaving. The logical side clenched the pillow that was stained with the evidence of his tears, his knuckles were a stark white contrast against the deep blue pillowcase. But nevertheless Logan turned slightly to face Roman, the stains of already shed tears lining his cheeks, the redness of his puffy eyes made Roman wince in sympathy.

He’d certainly been there before.

“Logan-”

“I heard you,” Logan’s voice cracked with the simple three words that he muttered out almost sourly, “I was debating on whether I should answer honestly or not.” Logan licked his lips, that were red from hours of biting them in an effort to not make a single sound while he lost himself to his own sadness. “Which would you prefer? You obviously came here wanting something from me, and it wasn’t to comfort me while I wept like an overgrown baby.”

Roman winced at the unintentional sharpness that Logan wielded even in this state, although unlike before, it wasn’t wielded towards Roman with the intent to hurt the creative side… but rather to hurt Logan.

For being caught crying? Roman didn’t accurately know, but even so, he didn’t like the thought of it.

Self deprecation was Virgil’s thing, not Logan’s.

He inched forward towards Logan’s bed, his hands raised slightly in a peaceful manner that told Logan he held no ill intent towards the other side. An action that made Logan huff almost sarcastically, as if he didn’t believe the creative side for a single second. But not before smooshing his face into the pillow, a minor attempt to hide from the creative side while he still could, and still protect his emotions that were vulnerable for anyone to see.

Roman sat on the edge of Logan’s bed not touching the logical side, at least not yet.

“I’d prefer it if you were honest with me,” Roman spoke softly, his voice much quieter than usual. “I’d like to know what’s wrong, and… if I can help in any way.” He did… gods did he want to help, but for someone like Logan.. he had no idea on how to even start. The other side was far too jaded and cynical  for the usual things that worked for Patton and Virgil.

Patton could be soothed by a simple hug and food, with bodily contact enough to calm down whatever he was feeling in that moment. Virgil was tougher, but even he enjoyed the occasional hug and any kind of distraction that Roman could pull out of his sleeves at the time. But for Logan…

He had no idea.

A rough raspy laugh pulled him out of his musing, “You want the truth?” Tears brimmed on the corners of Logan’s eyes, and for a second Roman felt a bolt of panic,  as if somehow he had once again messed things up. But Logan only scrubbed at his eyes, as his bottom lip wobbled with another onslaught of emotions. “I’m so tired Roman, I just want to sleep.” His breathing hitched as a whimper crawled its way up his throat, the warm comforting touch of Roman’s arms around him only seemed to make his tears come faster and faster as he buried his face in the creative side’s shoulder. “I just want to sleep and never wake up, so that I won’t be treated how I am anymore! I don’t want to wake up!”

Guilt twisted Roman’s insides at the acute reminder of just how both he and Patton had treated Logan’s interjections, Logan hadn’t even been there in person and yet…

They had treated him as an after thought, Patton had even chosen to ignore him when Logan had spoken up once… giving Deceit the perfect chance to butt in and take Logan’s place when he was out of the picture.

Roman had chosen ignorance over Logan… time and time again.

Logan’s fingers helplessly clawed at the back of Roman’s shirt, his breathing just getting more and more erratic the more he sobbed and less air he was taking in. It made Roman’s stomach clench painfully at the guilt that he was once again faced with, this was… his fault. Just another thing added to the list of things he had done wrong, they were supposed to be a family and yet-

“I know that it’s not just you,” Logan rambled on, cutting his inner musings short. “It’s just everything over a long period of time, and its unfair of me to just unload everything onto you at once, you don’t deserve to be at the center of my stupid emotions, and you certainly don’t deserve to stuck here. It’s just everything, ever since the beginning… I just.. I just…” Logan thumped his head against Roman’s shoulder in a desperate attempt to get his words out, “It's not your fault that I’m like this,” Logan admitted, almost as if he could feel the very thoughts that had been going through Roman’s head. His guilt and his shame had always been so obvious, at least Logan. “I’m just so… tired… of everything.”

Thomas wasn’t listening to him, even Patton hadn’t even stopped to consider how Logan would feel when he skipped him. His points were considered optional at best, to the point where the others felt happy that they could choose to not listen to him.

If that was how they felt about him… then what was the point of even showing up? What was the point of even trying anymore? What was the point in existing as a side for Thomas to listen to?

Sleeping forever, and not having to deal with anything like this sounded heavenly. It would stop the hurting, and it would stop everything that made these tears possible.

Roman gripped Logan tighter, his fingers bunching the back of Logan’s shirt as he buried his face into the other side’s hair. He felt a little better to know that this breakdown wasn’t entirely his fault, but… that didn’t stop the guilt that wormed its way into his heart regardless. He was still responsible in some way, be it his nicknames, how he responded to Logan’s facts, or even how he treated Logan sometimes. He had still hurt Logan in some way, even if the other had done the same… Logan didn’t always know that it was in good spirits, he had taken it seriously.

He knew that too, and he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t use it to his advantage.

So he needed to fix this, before he got anywhere close to being able to just pop in on Logan and vent about his day. They weren’t friends, he had never treated Logan like a friend, even if they were both somewhat responsible for that.

But first… he needed to help Logan out of the suicidal-idealation he was spiraling into.

He’d seen it enough in Virgil, when he was in one of his really bad attacks, as well as in Thomas when he was in high school during the peak of his closested streak.

At least he could help with that.

“Logan,” Roman softly hummed into the other side’s ear, as he gently rocked the other back and forth, his hand gingerly patting the other’s back in comforting rhythms. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

A sputtering sound erupted from the side in his arms disrupting the hitching sobs that had been coming from him, and it took Roman all of two seconds to realize just how that sounded coming from him. Or rather how it would sound coming from anybody, at least without a little bit of context first.

“Not like that!” He blurted out almost immediately, a rosy hue burning his cheeks with a vengeance, as embarrassment and awkwardness boiled in his stomach making him want to run away and never face the logical side ever again. “I meant, would you like to sleep in my room!” He quickly amended, his face getting redder by the second, even if he refused to relinquish his grip on Logan, who had gone very still. “I could use a nap after the day I’ve had, and it sounds like you need one too.” His voice softened for a moment, “You’ll have nothing but good dreams, and when we wake up… we’ll do something, just the two of us. You can have a day off, and just… relax. How does that sound?”

He could in the very least give Logan a sleep that he would wake up from, while ensuring that the logical side wouldn’t go off and do something reckless to ensure an endless slumber for himself. Plus…

It had been a very long time since he’d done anything with just the two of them, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spent time with just Logan without Patton having to force him to take the logical side along.

It might be nice, a chance to show Logan that for now, things would be okay and that Roman would be there for him.

They could just talk, and do things… without the worries of everything around them weighing them down.

A soft sigh left Logan’s lips, as the logical side gently rested his head on the creative side’s shoulder. “Sleep…” He began tiredly, the exhaustion of letting out so many emotions making him feel a little more than drained. “Sounds amazing…” It did, and even though he would wake up from this sleep, he would have something to look forward to, something to do that hopefully wouldn’t make him feel worse than he already did. A spark of gratitude welled up inside of him, had Roman not come along…

He probably would have just stayed here, crying and thinking things that would only lead him further into turmoil and sadness.

Until…

Logan’s body swayed as soon as Roman rose up, the creative side’s arms remained securely wrapped around Logan. Only jostling him slightly as the creative side almost too easily picked him up and sank out of Logan’s room, had he the strength Logan would have made a remark about how Roman was choosing to carry him or even given a small laugh about it. But instead he merely went limp, not putting up a fight as he rested his head against the other side’s chest  and closing his eyes as soon as he felt the impossibly soft mattress of Roman’s bed touch his back.

But that didn’t stop his hand from darting out, almost as soon as Roman’s warmth left him.

“It’s okay,” The other side gently told him, his voice soft and reassuring to the logical side’s ears. “I’m just going to get on the other side, I’m not leaving you. I’m going to be right here.”

As nice as that sounded, Logan shook his head. That wasn’t it.

The logical side cracked open one of his eyes, the blurry world around him telling him that Roman had already taken off his glasses for him. “Roman,” He mumbled tiredly, the effect of Roman’s room already working to put him into a beautiful dream just for him. “Thank you,” His grasp on the other’s sleeve was already going slack, but he needed to let the other know before he lost himself to unconsciousness. “Thank you for caring about me, even if.. even if I make it hard sometimes.”

A warm and feathery softly blanket draped itself over Logan, and the fuzzy softness of sleep encroached more.

But just before he lost himself to it, Logan heard the sad chuckle from the other side grace his ears as a weight settled next to him and an arm laid itself over his chest. And a velvety soft voice murmured right next to his head:

“You don’t have to thank me Logan… you never have to thank me for listening to you.”

And just like that, Logan sank into the dream that Roman had created for him, a smile curling on his tear stained face.

Within moments, Roman had joined him as well, his exhausted body tucked against the logical side.

Protecting him from anything else that would cause him harm.

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

your eyes look like coming home

The five times Patton asks Janus to marry him. 

Moceit, childhood best friends to lovers💙💛

Content Warnings: alcohol, light angst

Aaa this is my first fic in a million years or something. It’s kind of short and maybe not my best work, but I’m honestly just happy to have written something lol - hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

The first time Patton asks Janus to marry him, it’s a dare.

“Hi! Do you wanna be married?”

Janus stares blankly at the nervous-looking kid in front of him, fiddling with the sleeves of his grubby school cardigan as he stared back at Janus, through large, almost owlish glasses.

He’s confused for a second, then he looks over the kid’s shoulder, and sees the familiarly smug faces in the background, smirking and whispering like they’ve just seen something very funny.

He looks back at the kid – he’s new, just joined last week. Named Patrick or something. He didn’t seem like he’d be involved with the mean kids, with his big, nervous brown eyes and fidgety behaviour. His soft, round face holds a nervous grin as he looks earnestly back at Janus, who’s now glaring exclusively back at the ones watching them

“Why?” he finds himself saying, instead of no.

The boy – Peter? – flushes a little, looking at his feet.

“Um – well -I it’s er, it’s the game.” He gives the explanation like he’s asking a question, prodding the playground floor with his scuffed trainers. “We’re playing, they said – er, I need to find someone to say yes and marry me – but it’s just pretend though – and um, so…”

Ah, so they were both being made fun of.

“They don’t want to play with me.”

The boy’s face falls instantly. “Why not?” he asks, tilting his head to one side. Janus glances at the group, still smirking superiorly at him and – Paul?

“Because.” He snaps, not entirely unkindly, “Go find someone else to ask, or they won’t want to play with you either.”

The boy looks crestfallen for a second, but a look of determination overtakes his face, small mouth forming into a thin, angry line.

“Then I don’t want to play with them.” He declares with a toss of his curly head, sitting himself down next to Janus on the playground floor.

The flock immediately stops smirking, muttering furiously to one another.

“That’s not a good idea…”

“Don’t care.” The boy thrusts a small, chubby hand out at him. “I’m Patton.”

 ---

 The second time, it’s a joke, but also a promise.

They’re sitting on opposite ends of Patton’s cramped twin bed, doing everything but the homework they wanted to meet up to solve, and Janus is pretending he’s not all too aware of their feet just barely touching each other.

“Hey, do you remember that time I asked if you would marry me?” Patton giggles, a sudden mischievous look taking over his face, dimples popping in and out as he looks back at Janus.

“Oh, you mean the first thing you ever said to me?” Janus replies airily, swelling with pride as Patton laughs even harder, scrunching his nose up in delight.

“You know, you never gave me an answer.”

Janus’s heart skips a beat. No it doesn’t, shut up .

His laugh is carefully nonchalant as he replies, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you never said! Would you marry me or not?” Patton laughs, “You’ve kinda left me hanging for years, if you think about it.”

He’s joking. This is a bit, Janus knows that. it doesn’t stop his traitorous heart from beating just that much faster as he smirks back.

“Sure, why not?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Certainly, in like fifty years when we’re both old and lonely and we’re the only ones who can stand each other.”

He doesn’t believe it, obviously. He knows that he and Patton will always be together, but he doesn’t believe for a second that Patton won’t find someone, with his unbearable kind heart and his wide, honest eyes, and whoever it was would be damn lucky.

Patton laughs in delight at his response. “Ha! Sounds like a plan! Ooh – hold on!”

And then he’s jumping off the bed, going to rummage in his desk drawers.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Celebrating our engagement properly! Be patient!”

And then he’s kneeling next to the bed, smiling cheekily up at Janus, a length of pale blue ribbon in his hand.

“What is that?”

“Shut up, I don’t have a ring.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Hand!”

So, Patton ties the ribbon in a neat bow on Janus’ ring finger and kisses it quick before leaning back to gaze at him in satisfaction.

“There. Now you’re stuck with me no matter what.”

Janus doesn’t tell him that was going to happen regardless.

  ---

 Neither of them likes to talk about the third time.

Janus shoves his way past the teeming crowd of drunk dancers, craning his neck to spot a crop of dark curls or a pastel jumper. Goddamnit .

He wasn’t supposed to leave Patton’s side, he had suggested coming out here tonight as a way of cheering Patton up, and it had been working, until he had walked in, complete with brand new attractive arm candy, and…

Fuck.

He finally finds him out in the empty garden, clutching a beer can that looks to be mostly empty, staring blankly at the sky. He’s not actively crying, but as Janus walks over, he can make out the tear tracks on his face even in the dark.

So he’s definitely seen them.

“Patton?”

“Hey, Janus.” His voice is subdued, and there’s a slight slur to the words.

“I’m so sorry, Pat,” He starts, “If I’d known he’d be here...”

“It’s ��kay Jan, ‘m fine,” Patton reassures in a way that is not reassuring at all. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and it’s painfully brittle, like it might shatter into a thousand pieces any minute. Recently, Janus has seen that smile a few too many times for his liking.

“Patton, no.” he replies firmly, but gently, “You’re drunk and heartbroken, and I’m at least partially responsible for that. I’m going to take you home.”

But drunk Patton is somehow even more stubborn than sober Patton can be at times, and he shakes his head resolutely.

“Janus, no.” he pouts, “ ‘m not that drunk, an’ ‘m not…not sad, an’ I don’t wanna go home.” He nods clumsily, having made his point, and then proceeds to stare blankly at the sky again.

Janus sighs.

“Well, then I’m drunk. And sad. And I need someone to take me home.”

Ever more attentive to other’s needs than his own, that gets Patton’s attention, the beautiful idiot that he is. Slowly, he nods and clambers to his feet, gripping Janus’ hand.

Neither of them drives, and Patton’s place is closer, so Janus walks them there, Patton clinging firmly to his side every step of the way. Janus can’t tell if it’s for balance or comfort.

When he gets them both inside the flat, Patton’s first words are, “Don’t leave.”

He gazes up at Janus with red-rimmed eyes, “I don’t like bein’ here alone.”

Janus’s heart aches at that, and he nods. He’d always found it hard to say know to Patton, especially when he’s like this, and especially when he asks for so little as it is.

Similarly, he can’t bring himself to refuse Patton’s beseeching gaze when he tucks him in and moves to sleep on the couch. So, a few moments later finds them in bed together, Janus staring at the ceiling and wondering how Patton can’t hear his heartbeat. They’ve shared a bed before, of course. But not in a long time. Certainly not since Patton started seeing him .

“I saw them, you know.”

He does know. “Really?”

“Mm. D’you think he loves him?”

Janus sighs, “I don’t know, Patton.”

“D’you think he loved me?” Patton’s voice is so soft, so resigned, so plaintive that Janus damn near breaks.

“You know I can’t answer that, Patton.”

“Sometimes I think he didn’t.” Patton admits matter-of-factly, “I tried so, so, hard, but he just didn’t. Ever. I wonder if anyone ever really will.”

There’s a scrap of faded blue ribbon tied on the end of Janus’ keyring that answers that question, but Janus doesn’t bring it up. He doesn’t have to.

“You know I know you’re not really drunk. Or sad.” Patton turns to look at him, his eyes gentle and frank.

“Yeah?”

“You’re jus’ lookin’ out for me. Like you always do. D’you remember that time I said we should get married when we’re all old an’ stuff?”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak. “Hmm.”

Patton smiles wanly. “I wish we could jus’ do that now. We’d jus’ have each other an’ it wouldn’ matter if no one loves me ‘cause I’ve got you.”

Their faces are inches apart and Janus has never wanted anything more than he wants to kiss Patton right now, to kiss his tears away and tell him he’d never be alone, because Janus wouldn’t let him – but he can’t. For a variety of reasons.

“Go to sleep, Patton.”

  ---

 The fourth time, it comes out of nowhere.

It’s two – three? Some godforsaken hour of the morning and Janus has work tomorrow.

And for some reason, his delightful boyfriend has decided that it is a perfect time to be awake and shuffling around to sit up in bed, and turn his bedside lamp on.

“Janus?” he whispers his name like he thinks it might break in his mouth, and God, Janus loves him, but he needs him to shut up and go to sleep right the hell now. He doesn’t move or open his eyes, lying with his face half buried in his pillow despite feeling Patton’s gaze on his back.

“Janus, sweetie?” he whispers again, “Are you awake?”

“… No. ”

“I’m sleeping. Can’t hear you. Zzzzz…”

Patton huffs out  a soft laugh. “I think we should get married.”

Janus stiffens. What? They’d barely been dating two months, they hadn’t even talked about marriage – at least, since they’d been dating. He had no idea it was on Patton’s mind, how long had he…

And more importantly, why was he bringing it up now?

Apparently taking his stunned silence to be outright rejection, Patton tries to backtrack quickly.

“I know, I know, it’s not been very long and I totally understand if you don’t want to because it’s too soon.” Janus feels a gentle hand rest itself on the blanket right above his shoulder, “I wasn’t really thinking of it either, but I couldn’t sleep just now and I couldn’t stop thinking, you know, about us, and you remember when we were kids, and all that stuff we always joked about, and how even though we’ve not been dating that long we’ve been together basically forever.”

He trails off, giggling self-consciously.

“And then you did something really cute in your sleep, you like, cuddled up to me and it hit me now I don’t think I ever want this to end.”

Janus finally sits up and faces the love of his life, who is looking back at him with a gaze that can only be described as besotted.

“I really love you, Janus. I want to be married to you.”

With a small, knowing smile, Janus leans forward and cups Patton’s face in his hands.

“Patton. Angel. Darling. Light of my life. I love you too.”

“I…”

“…And that is why I categorically refuse to let you propose to me while you’re wearing your Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. Please let me sleep now, and I promise I will say yes no matter how you ask me next.” And with that, Janus places a kiss on the end of his boyfriend’s nose, turns around, and falls asleep.

  ---

 The fifth time is more or less perfect.

Well, he says more or less. Patton is perfect, in a neatly pressed pastel button-down, his curls bouncing in the gentle spring breeze despite all his valiant efforts to tame it.

Janus has made an effort to look his best as well, having had a feeling something special was coming. He hadn’t mentioned it of course, but with the way Patton had been jumping up and down in his seat as he drove them here, the way he had insisted on planning every aspect of this date himself – well.

Suffice to say his future husband had never been the best at keeping secrets.

The location Patton’s picked had certainly been perfect, atop a lush green hill with the kind of majestic cherry blossom tree you only see in romantic movies, pink blossoms practically dripping off its branches as they swayed in the wind, and beautiful rolling hills all around.

What isn’t perfect is when the two of them finally get comfortable on the hilltop, and Janus leaning against the wide tree trunk while Patton gets to unpacking the picnic he’s put together so meticulously, and it starts raining, almost instantaneously.

“I checked the forecast like three times, it was supposed to be clear skies!” Patton whines back in the car once they’ve finished packing up their things and run to safety, watching the light drips of rain get slowly heavier.

“I’m sorry dearest, I suppose the universe just doesn’t want this date to be.” Janus chuckles wryly, as he hands Patton’s dried glasses back to him.

“Eff the universe,” Patton grumbles, glaring adorably at the raindrop speckled windshield.

So, they play old love songs on the car music player and drink champagne and tuck into entirely too cute bite-sized picnic foods and talk and laugh and playfully flirt and point out constellations formed by the raindrops on the glass, and eventually, Patton stops pouting.

The conversation has slowly wound down and they’re quietly enjoying each other's company when he turns to Janus, taking a deep breath.

“God knows I’ve never been able to keep anything from you.”

“Why, whatever could you be talking about, my dearest?”

“…So, this probably isn’t a surprise to you in the least.”

Patton reaches into the picnic basket and pulls out a small box. It’s a pale yellow, tied in in blue ribbon.

“You’re my best friend, Janus,” his hands are steady, but his voice is already wavering, “You’ve always been here, my whole life, whether I need someone to help, or to talk to, or even just to cry at. I’ve loved you in so many different ways.”

Janus feels tears pricking at his eyes and blinks them away quickly; he refuses to miss a second of this, he wants the image of Patton’s earnest, loving face to be clear as day in his mind when he looks back on this whenever.

“..And I don’t ever want us to stop loving each other, so, hopefully for the last time ever, will you marry me?”

He laughs breathlessly and takes the box, delicately undoing the ribbon. It’s a cupcake.

A tiny, perfect cupcake with frilly blue icing, a golden ring in the shape of the tiniest coiled snake in the world, embedded in the icing.

“Do you like it?” Patton asks hopefully.

Janus surges forward to kiss his fiancé for the very first time.

Taglist: @ent-is-undecisive @disney-princess-patton

[hottestthingalive]

Changes, Tricks, and Trust

He does what he can. And sometimes, doing what he can means that, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters while his dad is wrangling Remus into his pirate costume and finds a man holding hands with a kid younger than even Roman and Remus (wearing a scientist costume and a cat costume, respectively,) who introduces himself as “Logan Abbott, and this is Patton. You must be Janus,” he just glares, and slams the door in their faces.

—

In which the Carroll siblings conspire against their father’s new boyfriend, Logan makes a promise, and Janus has a grudge against omelets. 

Notes: Look, okay, we’re all very aware this is two hours past Halloween, and an hour into No-Content November, but I wrote this in a day and am operating under the logic that it is both Halloween and not November somewhere, so let’s pretend we’re all okay with this and move on. Virgil also calls Roman and Remus peanut butter and jelly, which makes up for all my sins.

Roman also knows lots of words he shouldn’t at his age, because I am, in fact, projecting myself at six onto him. Let him have a big vocabulary! 

(He also mispronounces most of the words. This is still projecting. I apologize in advance.)

Many thanks to @smileyzs​, who stayed up far too late to help me edit, and the rest of @waffle-gang-incorrect-quotes​, who had to listen to me ranting about this as I wrote it. Y’all deserve the world. Thank you for putting up with me, and this fic. 

Warnings: Implied gore (but not really), food mentions (mostly candy), a fair bit of angst, Janus manipulating his brothers but not in an intentionally cruel way.

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, familial logicality, familial virgil, janus, roman and remus, platonic loceit, intrulogical, and logince. 

Words: 5328

Ao3

Enjoy!

—

“Roman, Remus,” Virgil says calmly, holding up a knife, stained with guts and gore, the key piece of evidence to the brutal mutilations of two innocents, “who decided to carve ‘Logan is a butt’ into our pumpkins?”

They point at each other, faces the picture of wide-eyed innocence. Virgil is not fooled. 

“Janus, do you know anything about this?” he asks, turning away from the twins to look at his nine year old, who is currently pretending to be very occupied with the book he is reading at the dinner table. Virgil wonders if Janus knows that he hasn’t turned a page in the last five minutes. Probably not. 

“Oh, why would I ever do that?” Janus wonders, looking up from the book, his puppy-eyes matching those of the twins. “It really is too bad though. Clearly, you can’t have Logan over for Halloween anymore. Tragic.” 

Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Janus, you’re the only one tall enough to reach the knife block, and I found the knife hidden under Remus’ bed. I know it was you three.” He puts the knife down on the table, really hoping the pumpkin guts won’t stain the wood, and says “Kids, remember what we said about playing with knives without adult supervision?”

“Not to do it,” the twins mumble in unison. Janus says “Do it only when we’re in trouble, like defending ourselves from a vicious intruder about to invade our home?” instead, which was not the answer Virgil was looking for, and he’s very sure Janus knows it. 

“Look,” Virgil says, sitting down in one of the chairs that his kids have covered in fake cobwebs and pumpkin stickers, “I’ve already invited Logan and Patton over. And I… I really, really like him. A lot.” He turns a bit red, at that, and ignores Janus rolling his eyes. “But if you guys really think he’s that bad after you meet him tonight, I’ll break up with him, okay? You three are always going to be my top priority. Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind, yeah?” 

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and runs to jump up into Virgil’s lap, burying his head in Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we messed up the pumpkins and were mean to Mr. Logan, Dad.”

“It’s okay, peanut butter,” Virgil tells him. He expected Roman to be the apologetic one — for a six year old, his son has  developed quite the sense of right and wrong. He’s a bit more surprised when Remus does the same, squirming into the hug and saying “I’m sorry we called him a butt.” He snickers, a bit, which makes Virgil think he’s not all that sorry, but he lets it go. 

“Thank you, jelly,” he says, and looks expectantly at Janus. 

“Sure, whatever,” Janus says, snapping the book closed. “I’m sorry we messed up your decorations, Dad.”

“I don’t care about the decorations, hon,” Virgil reminds him. “I’m just glad you guys didn’t get hurt, okay? No more knives. Now c’mere, Jan.”

Janus begrudgingly joins the hug, wrapping his arms around Virgil and the twins both, and they just sit like that, Virgil and his children, in the quiet of the kitchen. 

“Okay,” he says finally, “let's get you into your costumes, yeah?”

—

Janus just wants his dad to be happy. 

He saw what happened the last times his dad went on dates. He got all excited. Dressed up. Kissed his sons goodbye, smiling and happy and practically dancing on clouds. 

And then, one day, he’d come home a bit off. He’d put on a smile, he’d act like everything was fine, but then he’d make them omelets for dinner. 

Janus hates omelets, because Dad only makes omelets when he’s sad. 

He’s heard his dad talking about it on the phone late at night with Uncle Remy, who isn’t really their uncle, but who calls himself their uncle every time he comes over anyways. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Dad will say, with his voice choked up like he’s crying, and Janus will stand with his back against the door and hear Remy’s voice murmur something soothing, always including curse words about his dad’s ex which Janus isn’t supposed to know the meanings of.

Janus isn’t supposed to be up, on those nights. But he is, usually, staying up after they’re put to bed every time Dad makes omelets for dinner, because he knows that once he hangs up, he can wander into his dad’s room with some mumbled excuse about nightmares and do his best to comfort him without mentioning the breakup at all. 

He does what he can. And sometimes, doing what he can means that, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters while his dad is wrangling Remus into his pirate costume and finds a man holding hands with a kid younger than even Roman and Remus (wearing a scientist costume and a cat costume, respectively,) who introduces himself as “Logan Abbott, and this is Patton. You must be Janus,” he just glares, and slams the door in their faces. 

“Who was that?” his dad asks as he enters the room, holding Remus in his arms, who is finally in his costume, and not running around naked, as he has been for the last eight minutes. 

“No one,” Janus says, the picture of innocence, and then the doorbell rings again. “I’ll get it!”

“No, it’s fine,” his dad says, already crossing the room towards the door. “I’ve got it, honey. Thank you, though!”

He opens the door, and his face transforms, going from Regular-Dad-Face to his Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face. Janus hates the Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face.

“Logan!” Dad says, all high-pitched and pink cheeks, and Janus braces himself to be ratted out by stupid, stupid Logan Abbott. Which is a stupid name, too.

“Hello, Virgil,” says dumb, stupid, Dad-stealing Logan, whose voice is all soft, which just gets Janus angrier, because he’s making an effort to sound genuine about it. “And you must be one of the twins. What’s your name?”

Janus feels rather gratified when Remus just sticks out his tongue, though less so when his dad says “Remus, be nice,” in his Please, Kids, We Talked About This voice. “Come in! This is Janus, and Roman should be right down.”

Logan looks over at Janus as the door closes behind him, and Janus crosses his arms over his chest. He waits for him to say “Ah, yes, we met earlier,” or “Right, I remember,” or even “He slammed the door in our faces earlier,” but all that Logan says is “It’s nice to meet you, Janus,” with the kind of smile that sappy people in movies wear. He thinks, reluctantly, that it’s a nice smile, and that the kid, at least, doesn’t seem so bad.

“Octopus!” says the boy beside him, pointing at Janus, with pure glee in his big brown eyes. “Octopus!”

“I’m a kraken,” he grumbles, all kind thoughts towards his dad’s stupid boyfriend and his dumb kid gone. 

This Halloween is gonna suck. 

—

“You’re a dumb scientist,” Remus says to Mr. Logan, arms crossed across his chest, as Roman and Janus mutter together behind them, his dad walking with the little kid who had introduced himself as ‘Patpat!’ and whom the adults call ‘Patton’. His dad has managed to fix the pumpkins, despite all odds, and they look rather nice as they walk away, off into the wilds of the neighborhood for some trick-or-treating. 

Remus has been designated the distraction while his brothers figure out a way to get Logan Abbott to go home and leave their dad alone. “You’re good at being a distraction!” Roman chirps, and Janus mutters “And you won’t betray us like Roman would.” 

He is good at being a distraction. And he loves his dad more than anything (except maybe his brothers) and Janus is very smart, and if he says getting Mr. Logan to go away will make their dad happy, Remus will believe him. 

Plus, it is a dumb costume. 

“Why am I a dumb scientist?” asks Mr. Logan, who doesn’t seem very insulted by this, merely curious. 

“Your lab coat is covered in green and blue and red,” Remus tells him, using his sword to point at the splotches. “Everyone knows potions are green and blue and purple. And you’re a butt.”

“Well,” Mr. Logan says, and though his eyes curl up like he’s smiling, his expression is still neutral, “I had my assistant deal with all the purple ones, because purple potions smell bad.” (Remus wants to laugh at that, just a little bit.) “And the red isn’t from potions.”

“What’s the red, then?” asks Remus, despite himself. 

“The blood of my enemies,” says Mr. Logan matter-of-factly. 

“Cool,” he breathes, looking at Logan with newfound respect. “Why’d you murder them?”

“I am an evil scientist,” he answers, adjusting his glasses. “It is in the job description.”

“Cool!”

“Also a butt as well, apparently,” Mr. Logan adds thoughtfully. “I wonder if I can add that to my official scientist business cards. ‘Dr. Logan Abbott, Mad Scientist and Butt Extraordinaire.’”

“Bad guys get business cards?” Remus asks, having forgotten altogether about being a distraction. “I’m a pirate. Do I get a business card?”

“Are you a good pirate or a bad pirate?”

“I’m a bad pirate,” he declares, waving his sword in the air. “Roro is a prince-sailor-man, like Prince Eric from Disney, and Janny is an evil kraken we have to team up against! And Dad is a wicked witch who sent the kraken.” 

“A wicked witch, huh?” Mr. Logan says, glancing behind him at where Dad and Patton are. Remus follows his gaze. Dad certainly doesn’t look very wicked, even though he’s wearing a cloak and a hat and scary makeup, but maybe that’s just because he’s smiling, holding hands with Mr. Logan’s kid as Patton babbles on about something. 

It’s hard for his dad to look evil in general, to Remus at least, but especially when he smiles. He’s never found Dad to be very scary, not like he’d been able to spook Roman and Janus every so often, but when he’s smiling, when he’s happy, he just looks like home. 

And Mr. Logan looks so happy, too, looking at his dad, and, well, Roman is the romantic of the house, but Remus has been forced to sit through every one of his brother’s Disney movie watchings, and his favorite movie had always been the Princess Bride (which Dad thinks is too old for Remus and Roman, but lets them watch with him and Janus anyways.) Mr. Logan looks like all the movies, all the descriptions in books, all the stories of love Remus has ever heard. Love-struck, his mind supplies. 

“Yes,” Mr. Logan says, looking back at Remus, that lovey-dovey gaze gone but his eyes still so, so happy, “I think you’d get a business card. What would you put on it?”

He grins, and starts describing his Evil Pirate Captain Remus Caroll cards. Privately, he thinks that, no matter what Janus says, anyone who looks at his dad like that can’t be so bad. 

Plus, Logan’s evil, like him. And he’s okay with being called a butt, which means maybe he’ll teach Remus more, even better insults. 

—

“Aw, beans,” Roman says when he sees Remus happily chatting with the enemy. Janus has stronger language in mind, the kind of words that would get him grounded. 

Sure enough, when Remus returns to them, carrying his candy basket in one hand and his sword in the other, he scuffs his sneaker-clad foot against the ground in a way that Janus knows to mean I’m about to say something you really won’t like. 

“He’s nice,” Remus says defiantly, and Janus scoffs. 

Fine. He has to do everything himself, huh?

If it’s up to him to protect their dad from Logan Abbott, that’s fine. He just has to keep Roman on his side for as long as possible, right?

“So you’re abandoning us?!” he snaps anyways, because despite everything, he’s hurt. He didn’t think Remus, of all people, would turn so quickly. “What about Dad?”

“I think he likes Dad!” Remus protests. “A lot! It’s like all those Disney movies!” 

Roman looks between them, clearly conflicted. Uh-oh, Janus thinks. 

“Hans seemed like he liked Anna a lot!” he answers, hands on his hips. “We’ve got to be Dad’s heroes, right, Roman?”

Roman’s expression solidifies into righteous anger. “We gotta keep Dad safe,” he agrees, reaching out to hold Janus’ hand. Janus, meanwhile, tries to ignore Remus’ hurt expression the best he can.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his bag and digging out a pack of gummy worms. “I know they’re your favorite.” 

Remus’ expression brightens as Janus drops them into his candy basket. “Thanks, Janjan!” he says, beaming.

“Just don’t get in our way,” he says, and turns towards Logan.

“Okay, Roman,” he says. “You know what to do.”

His brother trots forwards, successfully swapping places with Remus, who drops back to go walk with Dad and Patton. Janus comes up on Logan’s other side, pointedly looking at the ground.

“Hello, Roman, Janus,” Logan says. “How is trick-or-treating going?”

“Good!” Roman says, cheery as always, though Janus can see his hands trembling. Janus doesn’t respond. 

“I like your costume,” Logan tells his brother, and sounds almost sincere about it. “You’re a prince, right?”

“A sea-prince!” Roman declares, puffing out his chest. “Thank you, Mr. Logan!” Janus shoots him a glare, and Roman just winks. He blinks, taming his expression slightly. 

Huh. Seems Roman is being much smarter about this than he had thought. 

“Y’know,” Roman says, cheery as ever, “Dad’s told us so much about you, Mr. Logan!”

“Does he?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “What does he tell you, then?” 

“Wellllll,” Roman hums, turning on the puppy-eyes. “I’m not sure you want to know, Mr. Logan.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that is perfectly fine,” Logan answers, which is both completely against the plan and infuriatingly heartfelt. 

“He says you’re, uh, stupid,” Janus mutters, taking matters into his own hands. 

“Yes!” Roman exclaims. “Very stupid. And, and a big ol’ butt! And a meanie. And insuff-bly rude to your co-workers.”

Janus barely resists to smack a hand to his face — that last bit is stolen word for word from Uncle Remy’s rants to Dad about his boss when he comes over for dinner, and mispronounced at that! — but it seems to have worked, as Logan looks rather shocked.

“Oh, did he?” he asks, seemingly distressed. Yes! “Oh dear. That’s not very kind of him, was it?”

“Nope!” Janus answers, suddenly cheerful. Yes, yes! Now stupid Logan would go away, and Dad would be safe, and there would be no omelets for dinner or anything-

“I’d better go talk to him about it,” Logan says decisively. No, no, NO!

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Roman says, experiencing the same panic, but Logan is already dropping back to walk beside Dad, picking up Patton, who giggles and throws his arms around Logan to hug him. 

“Damn it!” Janus exclaims, stomping in his anger. 

“You cursed!” Roman says in shock, pointing at him. 

“Yes, Roman, I cursed,” he snaps. “That didn’t work at all!” 

Roman looks on the verge of crying, and he instantly regrets it. “Sorry, Ro,” he says, reaching out to take his brother’s hand again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was my dumb plan.”

“It wasn’t dumb,” Roman says, sniffling. “Mr. Logan’s the dumb one.”

“Yeah,” Janus agrees, and glances back at his dad and Logan. Dad looks all smitten again, and Logan, disgustingly, looks equally sappy. “We’re not gonna get anything done with them like that. Let’s… let’s just trick or treat with Remus for now, okay? We’ve got this.”

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and pulls Janus back to where their brother is happily munching on a Snickers bar. 

They do end up having fun. And with Patton there, for all the dumb, costume-mistaking kid’s faults, adults are too busy cooing over him to care that Janus and Roman and Remus take a few pieces of candy from the bowls. 

Okay, Janus thinks as they return to the house, time for Plan B. 

—

Roman glares at the villainous intruder seated beside his father on the couch, as he and Remus and Janus trade candy on the floor. He’ll thwart this Logan Abbott’s evil plans! He’s a prince, after all!

“I’m gonna start making dinner,” Dad says, standing up. “I know it’s late, sorry. How does grilled cheese sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” the villain says, smiling like Hans at Anna in the beginning of the movie. “Do you want any help?”

“Just watch the kids for me, please?” Dad asks, and Roman nearly gags as he kisses the Hans-ome Villain on the cheek. Hadn’t Dad learned anything from Frozen?!

“Yeah, of course,” agrees Roman’s nefarious nemesis. Roman narrows his eyes, and checks again to make sure the fireplace is off, and that Mr. Logan — no, Dr. Logan, he’s too evil to be a mister, just look at his lab coat! — is sufficiently blocked off from it. He’s not a snowman, and neither are his brothers, but one could never be too careful! Princes always made sure to have all of their weaknesses defended against!

Janus follows their dad into the kitchen, but not before he glances at Roman and mouths Keep him busy, as he points at their vile adversary. It also could have been Reap the city, but Roman is pretty sure that doesn’t make any sense. 

Remus, the traitor, is playing with Patton. “I’m the tickle zombie!” he declares loudly, sticking out his tongue and making groaning noises, wiggling his fingers at Patton, who squeals in excitement and darts away. “Twickle zomvie!” he yells to his father, who nods gravely. 

“You had best run, Patton,” Mr. Logan tells him. “I hear tickle zombies are ruthless creatures.”

“Tickle zombie,” Remus groans in agreement, and Patton screams again, running towards the kitchen. 

There is silence in the living room for a few minutes after that, until Logan finally says “What’s your favorite kind of candy, Roman?” 

“Like I’d tell you that, you mal-volent maley-factor!” he exclaims, drawing his sword and pointing it at him. “You’d probably poison all the Starbursts!” He quickly realizes his mistake, and does his best to look even fiercer.

“Why would I do that? I like them too, I’ll have you know,” Mr. Logan says, though he looks rather surprised. “How old are you, Roman?”

“...Six,” he says grudgingly, when he can’t figure out how this bad-natured boyfriend of Dad’s would use his age against him. 

“You have a very impressive vocabulary for six, Roman,” the execrable evil-doer tells him, raising an eyebrow.

“Janus and Dad and kindergarten taught me to read,” he says proudly. “And we ran out of books for me, so I’ve been reading the dictionary when we can’t go to the library!”

“That is very impressive,” Mr. Logan repeats. “What’s your favorite book?”

“It’s-” he starts, but then remembers Mr. Logan is the enemy. “None of your beeswax!”

Mr. Logan doesn’t seem as hurt by that as Roman would have expected, and silence reigns over the living room for a few minutes (save for when Patton and Remus come sprinting in and out of it). Roman finally lowers his sword, putting it beside him. 

“I can teach you to use that,” the atrocious antagonist says finally, gesturing to the sword. 

“What?” Roman asks, immediately on the defense. “I can use it fine, Padre’s poisonous partner!” 

“I’m sure you can,” Mr. Logan says, adjusting his glasses, “and a very good insult, by the way, but I took fencing for many years. I can at least give you a few tips, hm?”

“...Fine,” Roman agrees, intrigued despite his best efforts.

Besides, how bad can loathsome Mr. Logan be if he likes Starbursts, anyways?

—

Janus knows he has lost Roman when he comes bounding into the room when Dad says “Dinner!” exclaiming “Dad, can I take fencing?” 

“Logan Abbott,” Dad says, far too affectionate, “have you been teaching my son sword-fighting?”

“Maybe just a bit,” Logan says, not-so-subtly returning the broom to its place near the back door. “Is that… Is that alright?”

“Of course it’s alright,” Dad replies, handing him a plate of grilled cheese, complete with tomato soup. “It’s very sweet of you. This is all he’ll be talking about for months, though, I hope you know that.”

“It’s so cool, Dad!” Roman exclaims, proving his point. Remus is already sitting besides Patton, tearing into his grilled cheese, and Janus feels something cold settle into his stomach. 

“Brothers conference, now,” he declares, standing up and marching towards the living room. He’s gratified to see that the twins still follow him, at least, even if they have been swayed to the side of Logan Abbott. 

“I like him, Jan!” Roman says immediately, eyes wide and pleading. “He’s nice! And Dad likes him, and Remus does too!” 

“And Patton’s great too,” Remus adds, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna be mean to them!”

“What about Dad?” Janus exclaims, desperate. “Remember the last time we liked one of Dad’s dates?” 

He’s referring to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, who had looked so nice in photos, who Dad had spoken of like an angel, but who had met them with a fixed smile and broken up with Dad only a few weeks later. Remus’ face falls, but Roman’s expression only hardens. 

“Logan’s not like that,” he insists. “We won’t help you anymore, Jan.” 

His brothers leave him alone in the living room, and Janus scowls at the ground. Fine. If they won’t help him, he’ll do it himself. He doesn’t need them anyways!

He ignores the choking feeling in his chest and the burning at the corners of his eyes as he returns to the table. 

Fine. 

—

Patton likes Virgil and his family. 

Remus is funny, and Roman knows all about all the princesses, and Janus, for all his grumpy-wumpies, has the best costume. And Virgil is so nice, and makes the best jokes, too!

Patton is all of four years old, and he, quite honestly, finds himself liking everything and everyone. But he especially likes his Papa’s boyfriend’s family. 

They’re nice. And they make his papa happy, too, and he doesn’t feel scared around them at all. He’s pretty sure Janus could beat up any monsters in his octopus — no, kraken — costume anyways. 

Janus looks sad when he comes back to the table, face all red and angry, and Patton reaches across to pat him on one of his tentacles. “You’re a very good kwaken,” he says.

Janus just stares at him. “...Sure, whatever,” he answers, turning away and taking a huge bite out of his grilled cheese. Patton is impressed, frankly. 

Papa has told him that Virgil being his boyfriend means that he and Virgil are like Nate-from-daycare’s parents, romantic partners. Patton asked if that means if he and Virgil are gonna get married someday, like Nate’s, and his dad’s face turned all red. “Maybe,” he said. 

Patton hopes so. He’d like to have Virgil as his other dad, he thinks. Virgil is nice. And Patton has begged for siblings so many times that getting Janus and Remus and Roman in the bargain is like what his dad says about cool things — bee’s knees. They’re like the bee’s knees!

So, Patton is hopeful. 

He pats Janus’ tentacles once more. Hopefully, his maybe-future-big-brother will feel better soon. 

—

“I just want to stay up for an extra hour, Dad,” Janus says, nearly pleading. “It’s Halloween! Just until Mr. Logan goes home.” 

His dad looks desperately between him and Logan, who is sitting in the living room with Patton in his lap, snoozing against his chest. The twins had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and Dad is holding Roman in his arms, Remus already tucked in upstairs. 

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says. “It is Halloween, and I’m trapped here anyways.” He gestures to Patton on his lap, and Dad laughs at that. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you so much, L,” Janus’ dad says, obviously relieved. “I’ll be right down, okay?”

“Okay,” Logan nods, returning Dad’s smile with one of his own. 

“You should just go now,” Janus says once his dad is upstairs. “You ruined Halloween. And Dad hates you, and we hate you, so you should just go home!”

“I am aware that you don’t like me, Janus,” Logan tells him softly, far too nice. He’s the kind of wonderful guy that would have Dad making omelets for days afterwards, unbearably sad. “And… I must confess, I do not understand why. Do I truly make you that uncomfortable?” 

“I don’t care about you,” he snaps, sinking back into the couch cushions, refusing to look at Logan, eyes on the credits rolling across the TV screen instead. “But I won’t let you hurt my dad.” 

“Hurt your father?” Logan repeats, eyes wide. “Why on Earth would I do that?”

It is late, and Janus is tired, and he still feels like crying. And so he finds himself spilling it all, from the omelets to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named to his dad’s calls with Uncle Remy. He’s crying, he finds, partway through, and Logan doesn’t reach out to hug him or anything like that, but he listens. He nods, and he asks questions at all the right times, and passes Janus the tissues from the coffee table whenever he needs them. 

“Janus,” Logan Abbott says when he is done, and he looks like he wants to cry, too, “may I promise you something, now?”

Janus nods, too tired to do anything else, and he gets the feeling that if he had shaken his head, Logan would have respected that, would have remained silent. 

“I swear,” Logan says, fiercely passionate, “I have no intention of hurting your father, or your brothers, or you, in any shape or form. If I should do so, I would be a person who does not deserve you, your father, or your brothers in any shape or form anyways, as family or friends or even acquaintances.” He takes a deep breath, and Janus realizes his eyes are glittering with tears when he lifts his hand to wipe them away. “I did not mean to intrude on your family, and if you fear for your father around me, or dislike me that much, it is not my place to remain here. You will always be Virgil’s priority, as you should be, and I would never keep myself in his life if I made his son that unhappy.” 

“Okay,” Janus says, voice small. 

There is silence, after that, and much sniffling, and Janus thinks. 

He thinks about his brothers, who have taken to the Abbotts so quickly. He thinks about Patton who, in the end, isn’t such a bad kid. He thinks about his dad, who seems so happy around Logan, who had asked them to keep an open mind that afternoon, who would be so sad if he had to break up with Logan, even for Janus’ sake, though he’d never say it.

He thinks about Logan, who seems so sincere, and who isn’t really anything like She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, or any of the others who had made his dad cry, who Janus thinks he could like one day, who could maybe be his dad too. 

“I guess you can stay,” Janus says, watching the TV carefully, and in the reflection, he can just barely see Logan relax. “For now.”

“Thank you, Janus,” he says. 

“If you hurt my dad, though, I’ll kill you myself,” Janus tells him, and means it. 

“I’d deserve it,” Logan answers simply, and for that, more than anything else, Janus starts to like Logan. He doesn’t laugh at the threat, or threaten him back, or even ignore it. 

He takes it seriously. He considers it. And he finds it justified. 

Yes, Janus thinks. With enough time, and maybe a little candy-related bribery (it is Halloween, after all) he could like Logan Abbott. 

—

“I had a lovely time tonight,” Logan says. Patton is in the car, strapped into his carseat with the driver’s door open just in case, still sleeping away, and Virgil has long since put Janus to bed, too. 

It is late. The moon is full overhead, a watchful eye on a quiet world, and it shines down on Logan and Virgil, who linger still in the doorway. 

“I’m glad,” Virgil smiles, though the expression falters quickly. He reaches up to Logan’s cheek, finger brushing at a stray tear track. “Have you been crying?”

“Janus and I had a bit of a heart-to-heart,” he explains, intertwining his own fingers with those of Virgil’s free hand. 

“The boys seemed to like you,” Virgil says, and though he looks no less concerned, he smiles anyways. 

“I liked them too,” Logan laughs, a shy, soft thing. “And Patton adores you, of course. I knew he would.” 

“I’d say I’m amazed they warmed up to you so quickly, but I’m not,” his boyfriend tells him, and grins, truly grins, mischievous and light and so full of love that it makes Logan feel dizzy. “You’re so wonderful, I’m surprised it took even that long.” 

“Flirt,” Logan accuses, but he steps closer anyways. The night is chilly, but he hardly notices next to Virgil Carroll, who seems to exist to provide warmth and light to the universe. “They were very protective of you.”

“Perhaps they have reason to be,” Virgil says thoughtfully, smile widening. “What with you around, standing on my doorstep in the dead of night, not kissing your boyfriend goodbye. That ought to be a crime, I think. Look at me, associating with criminals. You’ve turned me bad already!” 

Logan rolls his eyes but leans down to kiss Virgil anyways, a chaste, sweet thing that still manages to take his breath away. “You are incorrigible.” 

“You love me and you know it,” Virgil tells him. 

“I do,” Logan agrees. “Very much.”

They hug goodbye, and steal one or three or eight more goodbye kisses, and before he knows it Logan is driving away, off into the quiet of the moonlight. 

There is something magical about Halloween, he has always thought. A magic of change, and of tricks, and of trust, too. 

Virgil’s sons like me. A change. 

They attempted to drive me away, but Virgil had warned me ahead of time that might be the case, so I did, admittedly, have the upper hand. A trick. 

Janus, as of now, will let me stay. A trust, the trust of a boy who will do anything to protect his father. 

Above all else, Logan decides, he will not betray that. 

—

There are other Halloweens, of course, and there are other holidays, too. There are presents, and laughter, and the occasional argument, but one that is always resolved by the next day, and Janus receives that candy bribe, as well.

There are still omelet nights. There might always be. But now, instead of calling Uncle Remy, Virgil starts to call Logan, on these nights, seeking comfort when work goes badly or one of his sons is hurt or in the midst of just a truly bad day. And eventually, there will be no need for calls at all, for Logan is there to make toast and offer cuddles and tuck the boys in bed on those rough days, and, after he is supposed to be asleep, Janus will see his dad and a man who is almost, maybe, very close to being his father too, curled up together, offering support and comfort and love. 

Logan has his bad days, too. And so do Janus, and Roman, and Remus, and Patton. But none of them have to face them alone. 

One day, many Halloweens later, Janus will call Logan ‘Papa’ for the first time, sleepily, halfway through Hocus Pocus, and they will both cry, just a little bit. 

[rebloged-content]

Recommended Sanders Sides creators

Marry Christmas, everyone! And a wonderful December day to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, too. Let’s be honest right off the bat, though: I’m only using the date as an excuse to do this list anyways.

So. Throughout the time I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful corner of the sanders sides fandom over here on tumblr, I’ve often found a new creator and wished I’d found them sooner. It kind of makes me wonder who else I might miss. If you do to, here are a few creators I’d love for you to check out. You’ll probably recognize some of the names, if not all, but maybe you’ll find a new favorite creator here?

And to the creators in question, I really love your content. If you’ve made it onto this list, you’ve definitely cause one or two sleepless nights of reading for me, because who needs sleep if I can have this, right? XD Whatever you’ll find written next to your name is the impression you’ve left on me and… Well, just know that you’ve made some days of my life at least a little happier, all of you. And I hope to repay the favor by telling you how much I appreciate you releasing your content into this world… Well, repay the favor at least a little, I suppose.

Let’s begin, then, shall we?

@5am-the-foxing-hour Because this? This is who you go to if you want to read good Janus-content. You are in a mood to read sympathetic Janus? Wanna see the danger noodle just casually interact with other sides? Go to their short stories. I mean, “the cult”? Prime example of how to tell a story with impact in just a few words. 8 paragraphs, but boy did I read that one on repeat. Or “water spray bottle”, this one is fun, short and will make you laugh. An energy drink for the fander heart, so to say.

Then there’s their mafia-au, “there’s more in me than precious metals”. Six are out so far, and I adore every single word of every single part of this. Protective Remus, sassy Janus, angst, comedy relief, destruction, Roman-Remus-sibling-rivalry, braincell Logan, survival instinct Virgil, working together over a common enemy… This fic has it all, believe me. Take your time and read it, because you will read the entire thing in one go once you start. At least I did, and I didn’t even notice.

And their advent writings? Those had me squealing and jumping around in a way I will deny if anyone ever sees it. I don’t even know what else to say, they are fucking fantastic and that’s that.

So, yeah. Go check them out, before I start fangirling about them even more. You know my personal favorites now, so just go there. You won’t regret it.

Next up is @coconut-cluster. Ah, yes, Lexi. Lexi, whose uni-AU started as self indulgent and has become the loceit story on tumblr. We all know her, or at least most of us do, and we all love her too. And while I also drop everything I do at any point of time I possibly can once I realize the uni-au has any form of new addition, there are a lot of other fics created by her that you should check out as well.

Did you, for example, ever want a sappy prinxiety one-shot with the sappiness only being implied, a mutual understanding of “we’re-not-saying-we-care-but-we-both-know-we-do” born from joking reassurances and a not-a-date-nope-only-a-break? While that may seem to be a tall order, that is exactly what “before the sun goes down” is. Plus there’s ice cream. Or maybe you’re more of a logince fan? Do you want a fic where Roman isn’t the prince but serves His Highness? Do you like sincere talks while you’re procrastinating showing your face to the subjects you don’t really want to rule over? In that case, you really should read “Viva la Vida”. Careful, though, this one is so sweet you’ll probably get a toothache… There also is an analogical fic that I’ve enjoyed very much: “Cracks in the Ceiling”. I love it, because it’s just calm. Fears creeping up on you, thrown away by a trusted friend with a few words, just by being there and playing into the metaphors you head created this time around. It’s calm, and there’s not really a climax or anything, but it doesn’t need one. Because it’s just a glance into everyday life. It’s beautiful in its own right, really.

What I’m saying is, Lexi has a lot more wonderful stories to tell than the uni-au. It’s the most popular one, sure, and it’s one of her best works. But you really should check out her other fics as well. Lexi herself once said that she writs fics she’d like to read. I would figure it’s because of this, but her stories are mostly things you don’t really find anywhere else. Dynamics, stories, world building, all of those are aspects you may find somewhere else. But Lexi is just one of those people who see what they miss in a fandom and create it themselves, and among these creators Lexi is my favorite. She just has that certain skill that makes that approach to writing result in the most enjoyable reading experiences. Lexi’s fics are special, because they’re different, because they are authentic and you can feel that when you’re reading her work.

@djpurple3 is another talented individual I want to talk about. I have to confess, DJ is, as far as original content goes, almost exclusively locked in my brain with the fiction “I just keep loosing my beat”. 23 Chapters so far, one better than the last. It’s a bitter-sweet story following Remus and his children, after the bitch of a mother has been brought behind bars. Abusive piece of shit. Yeah, I don’t like her much. But the story is so full of love and support, everyone trying their best, everyone seeing how much the others deserve the world and wishing they could give it to them… Roman and Remus have a sibling-dynamic I would die for here, too. Patton is just the most adorable friend to Deceit - here Damion - Virgil is a precious bean, Logan is cute and the teacher we all wish he’d had ourselves and… god, I could keep gushing about this fic forever. I’ll stop now, though, before I’ll start spoiler things. Wouldn’t want to do that, especially since I really, really, really want more people to give this a go. It’s not underrated, I just think everyone who doesn’t is missing out by a lot, so… Go over there and read DJ’s fic right fucking now, if you haven’t already read it at least once. Thank you.

@delimeful​, our wonderful lime-friend with a cute cat making a terrifying face in his header. First of all, there is the WIBAR universe, short for “Watch it burn and rust”. 5 chapters in act one, 4 intermissions (one of those with three chapters), one chapter of act two, as well as three extras and an au of this au called “the end of being alone”, and I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent reading those instead of sleeping like I should. (Or interacting with family. Or being productive. Or… It’s really a good story, okay?!) WIBAR is a deathworlder au. So a space au in which humans are regarded as dangerous deathworlders who can survive on a deathworld like earth. In other words, Virgil is the only human, and boy does that scare everyone around him. And the best part? You can feel the development, the shift in mentality regarding Virgil, feel the moment approach in which he isn’t a threat but a companion instead.

And, apart from the fic that inspired me enough to start writing “TINND!R?” over on my writing blog, there are a lot more amazing fics to read on lime’s blog. He wrote “How easy you are to need”, for example. It’s soft, it pulls at just the right heartstrings, it’s achingly hopeful and, god, the ending still has me in tears, even after the fifth - ? sixth? something among those lines - reread. This one’s a werewolf au, actually. Virgil is the werewolf, Logan, Patton and Roman are the humans.

Do you want yourself some of that pre-AA dynamic? I’d recommend “to taste your beating heart”. In this, Virgil gets separated from the rest of his group of vampire hunters and gets turned into a vampire himself, loosing his memories. And he’s “Anx” now, not “Virgil”, goddamnit! He isn’t their friend anymore, why don’t they understand that? Well, probably because they can still see Virgil’s old habits shining through. There’s a lot of tension, a lot of angst and a whole lot of frustration involved in this.

He also wrote some amazing one-shots. They’re mostly so well written that I’m almost sad not to be waiting on a continuation. There’s “the littlest mermaid”, in which Virgil goes to investigate a noise, finding a scared, tiny mermaid in need of help. In “community gardens” we have Remus being Remus, gaining the interest and friendship of the forest’s giant Logan. “Magical mutualism” tells the tale of a witch and a demon making a pact beneficial to both parties and opening the doors neither could have gone beyond alone. The way we’re all confused about our ships not actually having set sail yet comes to a hight in Virgil in regards to his friends in “amateur matchmakers”. And this is the point at witch I stop talking before I actually recommend every single one of lime’s fics instead of just my favorites as I had planed because I started to gush too much… XD

Let’s move on to @muppenthings​. Mupp is an amazing artist and she created a giant mermaid au. There’s this one orca who’s just… We love her, but I actually don’t think she’s the brightest. I really, really love her, though. Virgil himself is being a little protective over his human friends and casually so. I love this comic series for the art style, but I also love the way it makes me crack a laugh at least once per work. Or appeal to my mother-instincts, if it’s about baby Virgil. Too cute for his own good, I tell ya! And the facial expressions! The detail, the jokes, everything about this is wonderful. You should at least take a look.

@whenisitenoughtrees​. Cat got me with “This cup of yours tastes holy (This lie is dead)”. “A slow voice on a wave of phase” was next, later “Infinity and beyond”, “we are not alone in the dark with out demons” and “changing of the guard”. And then, suddenly, the night was over. I’ve read almost all of the fics in one go, and I’ve been semi-frequently visiting her master post ever since. When “There’s an endless road to rediscover” came out just a little while back, that lead to me re-reading through almost the entire list. I don’t regret it, my plans for that weekend would like to disagree.

These six fics I mentioned here are, by no means, the only ones I enjoyed. Those are just the ones I’ve found myself opening up again and again in sleepless nights. Those are the ones that pop up in my head and have me smiling to myself in the middle of god-knows-whatever-I’ve-been-doing-at-the-time.

Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, you’ll find everything in that list. And something I’ve grown to like about Cat’s fics even more than anything else is the quick change between feeling perplexed, a startled laugh at certain wordings (you’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it) and apprehension. These fics will have you at the edge of you seat, swooping you away on an emotional roller coaster. And, god, the way Cat writes from Remus’ perspective? The introductions of her stories and the way she redirects to the main topic after going into detail on something? I saved a few paragraphs as screenshots on my phone because I love them and I want to read them again when I’m down. I just… Cat’s great.

Next up is @eliemo. Because Elias Virgil is the royalty of Virgil angst. From the touch-starved Virgil we’ve all had a head cannon of at one point in “Heart of Ice”, over ace Virgil panicking over telling his boyfriends that he his ace and didn’t think to tell them before in “Love our way” to so, so much more.

Mostly EV follows the story arc of an underlying feeling of dread at the beginning, which slowly grows into panic, exploding in a storm of angst and concludes in everyone, or at least whoever is around, coming to the rescue and helping to calm down, with the end being the hope for getting better in the future. They always manage to convey the confusion, fear or just the general thought process so well that you can’t help but get absorbed in the story. They know exactly what to say and what to leave between the lines to get the maximum effect. And, your heart will definitely be shattered after their angst. Still, the way the sides comfort each other and support each other so well every time is just… I love their stories, a lot.

I want to make two more suggestions if you want to check out this creator. A Janus angst fic, which can only be described as “ouch” you’ll find under the name “snake bite”. It hurts in the best way possible, because Janus gets the comfort he deserves.

The other suggestion gets a lot darker. It’s about Virgil having been abused by the “others” before he got accepted into the light side. The others are shocked to find out what has gone on behind their backs and they help Virgil in every way they can to recover. Of cause it’s a rocky path, though. This would be “Learned Behavior”. The series/au has twelve stories so far, one of which has two parts. You’ll find the master post for this pinned to the top on their blog.

If you like angst, you should also give @maybedefinitely404​ a look. Ly has a soulmate-au going, in which they use the concept of “you hear the music your soulmate listens to”. "Music in my head” is a prinxiety fic, but the two of them have yet to meet. Four chapters and two mini-fics in. The reason I mentioned angst is because in this - spoiler alert for the first few chapters here - , Virgil gets put through conversion therapy. Luckily Janus and Logan are better foster parents than the ones who did that to him.

They also have a master list for all their soulmate stories, featuring different ships. Apparently they participated in soulmate month, if I understood that correctly. And to be honest, that was how I even found their account. I absolutely adore their anxceit fic, which takes place in a human au. It’s starting off pretty sad, but the bonding moments are absolutely wonderful. It’s a lovely story, and the ending is one of the best ones I’ve yet to read. Their logince fic took my breath away, too. A flower shop/tattoo artist au, and Logan is the tattoo artist. Stunning writing, wonderful world building, just the right amount of backstory to have everything make sense without overwhelming/drowning the reader in unnecessary details. Their moxceit fiction… Well, this one had me in tears within the first few paragraphs. It’s terrible and you feel for Janus, whose perspective this is written from. The ending, though… Gods! The ending was so indescribably cute. To be honest, all of the soulmate stories are great, these three are just my personal favorites.

Concerning their one shots, you’ll probably have to figure it out on your own concerning this. I haven’t been able to read all of them yet, as sad as that makes me. Definitely palling on doing it in the future, though. I did read two of them, though. “Pippity poppity” really was amusing, and I am so looking forward to the second part of “The Boy who sings next door”. The way they write the dynamics between the sides? I live for that.

Another creator I would like to recommend is @maybe-im-tired.They don’t have a master post, as far as I could see, but they only post their content anyways, so… “Can’t take my eyes off of you” is my favorite out of their fics so far. I mean, the way they managed to fit the sheer chaos that is intrulogical into this one short fic is amazing. And you could take about two thirds of what Remus said and put it up on your wall as out-of-contexts-quotes. Don’t worry, he says them out of context anyways, and they will definitely make you laugh. 

The series of short stories for the human au that starts with “Glowing stars” is another au by them that you will almost certainly like. We have Logan and Virgil as kids (about 7 I think), Remus and Patton as single parents, Roman as the most adoring uncle, Emile as babysitter and Remy as his amazing partner. Remus is a great father, wonderfully chaotic as well. And a teacher! Imagine that, Remus as your teacher... He’s great with kids though, as long as they aren’t entitled villains come to make his precious Virgil feel bad, that is.

They also wrote a bunch of “random one shots”. They are all amazing, but my favorite has to be this one. It’s a logince one, once again human au. Patton may or may not tell his big brother’s crush about the feelings he wasn’t prepared to share yet. You know, as small kids do. It’s soft, it will make you smile as much as Logan does, and I love Remus in it. I generally like how they write Remus, okay? I know how much I’ve said it, but I’m not even exaggerating. They always write him differently, and all versions they write him as are so, so lovable and just… I wanna hug the life out of all Remus versions they wrote, okay? Take a look, you’ll know why.

Anyways. Let’s continue with @figurative-siren-song. This is the last account I’ve followed and I’m still sad about it having taken me this long to find them. Little salty, to be honest. (I’ll stick to they/them because they said just not to use she/her, and, well… consistency, you know? Don’t have much, so I have to get what I can XD). When I finally did find them, I went through their entire master list (at least all of the ships with characters I actually know. I’m kinda bad with the shorts characters, so I usually just… avoid them? Idk. Personal preference, I guess), and, well… I would honestly recommend every single fic on that list. They call themself “Repair Fluff King™️” and they deserve that title. But when they warn you that a fic will be angsty, it will be angsty.

I found them through the anxceit fic “A Deal”. Well, through an animatic by their friend on youtube that had linked the fic, but details. I’ve been reading this fic up and down again and again. It’s just so good! And when they talk in the second part and Janus explains why he proposed that deal. Or in the continuation, which i can’t talk about because I will probably spoiler things! So wholesome!

 Also, their losleepxeity fic “We’re worth it”. So soft! The nicknames, the plot, the everything. It’s softer than clouds look, and we all know that means something.

But, really. Everyone will find something for them by this creator. So many ships, all incredibly well written, and soft and fluffy without getting boring in the slightest. It’s as energizing as coffee, actually. And, let’s be honest, this whole fandom drowns itself in angst most of the time. Take a break from that, repair your broken hearts with goof fluffy content that you’ll want to read over and over again. Go check this creator out. You will love them. 

Last but not least… @myfriendsasthesides​ A blog by a creator who just takes the wonderfully chaotic dynamics of a friend group and using that to give us content of incorrect sides quotes. Maybe it doesn’t fit with me going on and on about fics here. I don’t care. Follow them and turn on those notifications, please, because seeing even one post of theirs on your dashboard will make your day. It’s funny, it’s absurd, it’s chaotic, it’s making you jealous of them for having friends like that. Believe me, you will want to see those posts. It’s just… the random shots of serotonin and dopamine out generation needs really fucking desperately 100% of the time. 

That’s it with the list! Eleven creators I absolutely adore, and I’m sorry I was babbling so much all the way through, but… Well, actually I’m not sorry. And actually, half of the reason I even made this post is to tell them how much I love them and fangirl about them a bit. So… Yeah. Well.I love you guys and hope you’ll have a wonderful day! And to everyone else reading this: I hope this helped you ind some new creators you can enjoy. And a good day to you too, of cause.

Sincerely, Joy 🖤

(@joylessnightsky/@sanders-sides-fic)

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Title:  Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Summary: It’s cold in the cellar, but then if it isn’t cold it’d defeat the whole purpose of a cellar. This coldness had been fine at first, but the longer Logan and his little brother Virgil stay, the more it worsens. Logan just hopes his mother’s temper wears off soon or else the cold could get fatal. 

The last thing Logan expects is for his father, who he hasn’t seen in years, to show up through golden portal (a magic portal, which should be impossible!) to save the day as if he hadn’t abandoned them to this fate by leaving all those years ago.

Pairings: Brotherly Analogical, Parental Loceit

Word-Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Magic, Child Abuse, Physical & Emotional Abuse, Unhealthy Romantic Relationship, Hypothermia, Alcohol, Death Mention, Morally Grey Janus, Crying, Angst With a Happy Ending

This fic was at times both frustrating and fun to write. I have no plans to continue this fic, but you can ask me questions regarding the ‘verse and I’ll answer them. Janus has good intentions in this fic he’s just bad at expressing them and we’re also seeing this from Logan’s pov.

--

It was cold in the cellar. Then again, it would be rather alarming were it the opposite case. Cellars were historically used to store perishable items such as vegetables and meats in a time before refrigerators existed. Still prolonged exposure to such an absence of heat wasn’t good for any human being. Not without proper clothing or heating methods. Something both Logan and his young brother unfortunately lacked. 

At first with just a t-shirt and jeans it’d been fine. A bit chilly but fine. What Logan hadn’t accounted for was a cold front to settle in unexpectedly. Within an hour, it dropped by forty degrees. His little brother Virgil wasn’t fond of physical touch. Yet the young child clung to Logan for warmth. It wasn’t enough. His skinny frame still trembled, his lips turning blue. Logan himself felt the effects of his body trying uselessly to warm the cold environment around them. Still his bit his lips from shivering, desperate to attempt staying strong for Virgil.

“I-I-I’m s-s-scared.” Virgil cried, digging his head into Logan’s shirt.

I...I know.” Logan said, stroking his brother’s hair gently, “Things are...things will be alright.”

Logan had repeated this statement many times already to Virgil. Each time he grew less sure of it. However, he knew he had to remain strong for his brother’s sake. Ever since his brother was a baby, Logan had to grow up faster. Much faster than even before. Sometimes he resented this fact, but never for long. It was simply the way things were.

“C-c-c-can you tell me a story?” Virgil asked, and of course Logan obliged. For he knew the unspoken words in that request: I’m still scared. Can you make it less scary? 

A story, for both the listener and teller, would be a beneficial distraction. Even though Logan was not a good storyteller. Once he did a short story assignment in middle school and received a C. His heart metaphorically sank at the sight of it and he dreaded going home that day. Virgil always seemed to appreciate his stories. Although praise from a kindergartener wasn’t worth much in the literary world.

Through frozen lips, he told a meandering story to his little brother. Sometimes his brother would ask questions or offer suggestions, abruptly changing the direction of the story. Logan himself barely remembered what it was about. It was as if someone else spoke through him as his mind drifted to other ideas.

It’d been dark for a long, long while. Usually his mother would’ve unlocked the door by now. She’d insist he’d make dinner while complaining of a terrible headache.

 It was an unending cycle. His mother would do her best to stay sober and function as an adult for a few weeks. Then her mood would increasingly sour, little things piling up into an avalanche. It was hard to tell at times what would be the trigger. The one thing that made her slam open the alcohol cabinet and drown a whole bottle of vodka. 

She wasn’t a nice person when drunk; hence the whole being-locked-in-the-cellar. Eventually after a few days of heavy drinking, his mother would come to her senses. She’d lock the alcohol cabinet and claim she’d never drink again. A lie nobody believed but herself.

Perhaps the lie was done in good intentions. His mother always insisted she cared for her children, in ways their father never could. 

“He’s a snake, Logan,” She hissed once, banging her beer heavily onto a coaster, “A dirty, no-good deceiving snake.”

Logan said nothing. He had only a few memories of the man. Once, when Logan was nine years old, he showed up on their doorstep. He held a bouquet of roses for Mother and a much belated birthday present for Logan. It’d been one of the happiest he’d seen Mother. He stayed with them for a few days. He listened to Logan, complimenting him on his extensive knowledge about dinosaurs. The three of them went to a carnival together. For a fleeting moment, Logan had what the others kids at his school had; a family. 

Then it ended with tears, arguing, door slams. Mother yanking him by the arm and leaving everything behind. Nine months later, Virgil was born. His father wasn’t there. Nor did he ever show his face again. A bitter, festering part of Logan despised him for that.

Mother acted like she cared at times. She’d purchase Virgil and Logan expensive gifts. Things she couldn’t afford without a credit card. She treated them to ice cream and insisted on giving them hugs. She never understood that Virgil found tactical touch without permission distressing. She’d brush it off, making remarks he simply needed to get used to it. 

At times Logan allowed himself to pretend these niceties would last. He pretended his mother was a flawed human being who mostly did good by her children. He pretended the slapping and hair-pulling didn’t exist, that the cellar was just a cellar and not a place to fear. It was hard to pretend these things were true, when the reality became increasingly harder to ignore.

Virgil fell asleep in the midst of this. Logan hadn’t realized this at first. His tired mind plunged on, continuing the nonsensical story.

“Then Batsy the Bat escaped the Witch’s dungeon. He flew as fast he could, to warn his friends...ah. Virgil what do you think their names should be?” Logan squinted, the dim light making it hard to see if his brother’s eyes were closed or not, “Virgil?”

His brother slumped against him, his breaths long and labored. Logan frowned, shaking his shoulder, “Virgil?!”

Virgil made a grumbling noise, “What?”

“You need to stay awake. You--you can’t fall asleep right now.”

“I’m tireeeed,” Virgil complained.

“I--I know, but please. It--it isn’t good to sleep right now.”

“Why?”

Logan’s throat constricted, “Be--because well. I haven’t finished the story yet.”

It was a lie. The truth was that sleeping could be a dangerous thing for a hypothermia victim. Sleeping could lead to death. He couldn’t tell his brother that. He refused to let Virgil experience more fright than he already had in his short life.

“Okaaay.” Virgil said.

Logan continued with the story, pulling all his concentration into it. Yet it wasn’t enough to keep Virgil awake. He kept drifting off, unable to keep his eyes open. At one point his brother down crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He sobbed, repeating the words over and over.

“It’s alright, you’re okay, everything is gonna be--gonna be,” Logan stammered, struggling to force the word out, “okay.”

It was then that Logan knew they couldn’t remain in the cellar any longer. He’d have to overcome his one true fear for the sake of their safety and survival. What he feared even more than his mother, was losing Virgil. Logan was smart. He knew the odds of a kindergartener and a high school sophomore staying together in the foster system was slim.

He had been selfish to allow his mother to continue tormenting Virgil. It was wrong. Now both him and his brother were paying for it.

Logan could fix this. He just had to pull out his phone and call emergency services. He had to call and resist his foolish fears of his mother and separation from his brother. With one arm still tucked around his brother, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. A battered, beaten thing he’d purchased with his first paycheck. His mother was completely unaware of its existence. 

He pressed the power button on as he gathered up the courage to call. Except the screen remained completely blank. He pressed it again, this time harder, hoping it’d been a fluke. It wasn’t. Again and again, he kept pressing the button, irrationally hoping for a different result. 

“No,” Logan swallowed heavily, “no, no, no this cannot be happening--” “Logey?” Virgil hiccuped, his big glassy eyes staring up as his older brother with concern.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Logan murmured, “It’s okay, It’ll be okay--”

He couldn’t say the words any longer. Not when a sob wracked his throat, his vision turning hazy with tears. He couldn’t be strong any longer. He was weak. His heart beat faster, the chasm in his stomach deepening. His little brother said something, but he couldn’t hear it. All he heard was his mind mocking his failure. Shrill and scorching like his mother.

StUpID DiD yOU ThINK ThAT wAS GOING TO WORK?

You and your little brother are going to die and it’s all yOUR FAuLt

UsEleSS

Not EVEn YoUR OwN FATHER WAntED YOU--

“Hello? Whoever is contacting me at this hour better not have a good reason.”

Logan’s thoughts jolted to a halt. What? He glanced down at his phone, but it was still battered and dead. Virgil looked just as confused and lost as he felt. He hid his face in Logan’s shirt, whimpering softly.

“Who...are you?” Logan croaked, doing a poor disguise of covering up his breakdown moments before.

“I think that is perhaps a question I should be asking you.” The strange voice replied. It was definitely emanating from the phone, but how Logan had no clue. It made no logical sense.

“I--I don’t know.”

“You don’t know your name?”

“No! I mean of course I know my name! I mean, you can’t be real--I must be hallucinating.”

“Oh?” The voice responded with a touch of some unidentifiable emotion, “this must be your first time then.”

“First time what?” Logan snapped, a headache starting to take form. He regretted raising his voice when Virgil let out a cry. He murmured a soft apology to him, attempting to ignore how cold his brother felt.

“Is there someone else with you?” 

“No,” Logan said, before hesitating, “I mean perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“You still haven’t responded to my question from before.”

“Let me broker a deal then. I’ll answer your question, if you tell me who you and your companion are.”

“Okay,” Logan shakes his head, wanting to laugh hysterically. What in Newton’s three laws of gravity was going on? Surely, he died. He died and this was some last minutes of brain activity occurring. Scientists after all, know very little what happens in one’s last moments of life. Nothing could quite prepare him for the answer the voice gave him, however.

“Well then, to quote a popular misguided piece of media, ‘you’re a wizard, Harry!’” The voice said, the verbal jazz hands evident in the voice’s dripping, dry wit. Something about it was painfully familiar.

“What.”

“You asked, I answered,” The voice chuckled, “now it’s your turn.”

“My--my name is Logan,” He said, blinking rapidly, “and my little brother..ahhh...oh! Vi-Virgil is here with me.”

“Logan, that’s your name? You’re sure?”

Logan frowned at that. Of course he was sure. Or was he? It was getting rather harder to focus. Or to breathe even. The crisp cold air hurt his lungs. Virgil slumped heavily against him, complete dead weight in his unconsciousness. Oh. That was bad. He knew that was bad. 

“Logan?!” The voice yelled. Hmm, it sounded like they’ve been yelling at him for awhile now. He should acknowledge them. He nodded before pausing. Wait. He needed to respond verbally.

“Y-yes?” 

“Finally. You seem like you’re doing absolutely fantastic,” The voice told him. 

“Do I?” Logan asked, “I do not think I’m doing ‘fantastic’.”

“Where are you?”

Logan rattled off the address. Then he very casually added, “We’re locked in the cellar.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s-s-s-s a punishment,” Logan shivered, his eyelids drooping against his will, “it’sssokay.”

“Yes, because all parenting books recommend disciplining your children by locking them in a cellar.” Maybe it was just Logan, but he got the impression the voice was being sarcastic. 

“I need to cut the invocation call. I’ll be there soon.”

“Wh--how-hy?” Logan said, trying to speak three words at once. The voice didn’t respond. He tried shaking his battered phone as if that would do anything. It did not do anything.

The air frizzled in front of Logan. A golden spark appeared, expanding until it was one big golden shimmery oval. Logan stared at it, blinking rapidly. This was absurd. He most definitely had to be hallucinating. The golden oval ripples as a black fedora emerged from it, followed by a face and then a whole body.

“F--father?” Logan managed.

The man before him was older and dressed in strange clothing. Slivers of silver hair poked out from his hat, nestled among the chestnut hair. An unfamiliar gruesome scar ran alongside the left side of his face. But he recognized those hazel eyes anywhere. He stared at them at the mirror every morning.

He didn’t respond to Logan. He took a few steps before collapsing beside the huddled forms of Logan and Virgil. His gloved hands reached out, but he did not touch them. His mouth opened, but no sound came out of him. Then his gloves covered his face as he inhaled deeply. He removed them from his face, his expression carefully blank.

“I’m here.” He told Logan, extending a hand towards him, “and I won’t leave you or your brother this time.”

Logan stared at the yellow gloved hand before sluggishly panning his gaze up at his father. He didn’t know if he could trust him, let alone if he could trust that this was reality. But god, he wanted it to be real. 

So cradling Virgil close to his chest with one arm, he took hold of his father’s hand. And then, with a bright flash of light, the cellar was empty.

-

Logan felt warm. A drizzling, dribbling, dripping like maple syrup down a fresh stack of buttermilk pancakes type of warmth. He should be alarmed by this for some reason, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be. Instead he made a contented noise, shifting closer to it. Someone chuckled, running a calloused hand through his hair. Logan stilled at the touch, the warmth evaporating from his veins. He waited for the fingers to grow taunt around a tuft of hair. For the harsh cacophony of his mother’s voice to rain down on him like hail. Nothing.

“Are you asleep, Little Tesla?” 

The air in his lungs evaporated. Only one person had called him that and it certainly wasn’t his mother. As much as she expected him to receive good grades, she hadn’t been one to nurture his interests in 20th century scientists.

“Father?” Logan whispered.

“I’m here, I didn’t leave, just like I said I would.”

He opened his eyes to find his father was indeed there. Sitting on a wooden chair with sunken eyes as if he’d been awake for hours. Logan laid on a bed with silky sheets and an impossibly warm comforter. He had just barely enough to cover him--most of the blankets had been stolen by another small figure. Virgil. His little baby brother was with him, asleep and curled up in a small ball.

“Wha--” Logan started to say, until everything hit him. The cellar. The strange bodiless voice. The gleaming gold portal. Father. Darkness.

“Yes, yes, I know it’s not at all a lot to take in, but you have magic. And you found me again, just like I’d hope you would.”

“Found you?” Logan asked, a hardness to his tone, “Assuming this isn’t a hallucination, you left me with h-her, you never came back and suddenly because I possess magic, I’m what? Worth something?”

“Yes, no!” His father cried out with a frustrated growl, “Listen, Logan. My relationship with your mother was extremely healthy, as I’m sure you can agree. Not unhealthy in the slightest. When it ended, your mother left a lovely parting gift.”

Here, he rubs a hand against the facial scar almost absent-mindedly, “I wanted to find you, I searched everywhere, but your mother is smart and covers her tracks well. I’m...sorry I couldn’t find you or your brother sooner. You’re important to me, magic or no magic.”

“How can I trust you?” Logan asked, “How can I trust that you’re not anything like her?”

He expected his father to be upset by the accusation, but instead he just smirked.

“You’re good to be suspicious. It’s a good trait, don’t ever lose it,” He said, adjusting his gloves, “I can tell you, that I will not harm you or your brother. I can say I will teach you magic, if you desire. I can let you know that I will let you walk out the door with your brother, and you won’t ever have to see me or your mother again. But you have no true way of trusting a man that has, from what you know, abandoned you completely until just now. 

“You have two options. Either accept you cannot completely trust what I say is true and proceed with caution, or you can leave with your brother, find a way to support the two of you. You’re smart, Logan. I trust you could figure it out.”

Logan swallowed. He was indeed smart--or knowledgeable enough to know there was little choice in the matter. He was just fifteen. He can’t support Virgil and him--not legally anyway. It’d be difficult to cover it up. Child Protection Services would be on them in a matter of weeks, if not days. 

Good case scenario, they stayed together in the foster system. Bad case scenario, they ended up separated. Worst case scenario? They ended up back at their mother’s, because they don’t believe either of Logan’s or Virgil’s claims and the cycle continues without end.

So, his father. He was the only option, and he knew it. As much bitterness as Logan held for the man, there’s also yearning in equal spades. He used to spend nights crying for him with his mother yelling at him to shut up. Sometimes she’d beat him for it, telling him his father was never coming back. Then he’d snap back that she was wrong and he’d prove Logan right by coming back. Until little by little, he stopped. 

He couldn’t trust his father, the man even admitted it. He just had to hope it’d be better, even though apparently the man believed in magic. Logan was doing his best at the moment to deny it existed. It couldn’t exist, last night had to be a fluke of some sort and even if it wasn’t, it was too much for him to focus on at the moment. 

“As long as I have your word that you won’t intentionally hurt Virgil and I, we will stay with you.” Logan says, before offering his hand towards his father.

Father took a look at the extended hand, eyes softening, before clasping it, “You have my word, Logan, that I will not harm you or Virgil as long as you remain in my care.”

They shook on it. Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and then--and then, his vision blurred. A sob and then another erupted until he clenched his teeth, holding the rest back. For the second time within twenty-four hours he had shown weakness. First to his brother and now, now to his father who above all he should show no signs to. But like that creative writing assignment in the 8th grade, he completely failed.

Somehow halfway the handshake got turned into an embrace. His father hugged him, a calloused hand softly carding through his hair once more. 

“Shh, Logan, you’ve been so strong, stronger than most. You won’t have to be strong alone any longer. Let it all out.”

Logan didn’t know what to think of his father’s words. It wasn’t like a set of logical propositions or a step-by-step formula for science. He couldn’t know for certain if they were genuine. But in this moment, he was but a little boy with his father back. So he dug his head into his father’s chest and finally cried. His father, in turn, did not berate or beat him for it. Instead, he held onto his son as he whispered reassurances all the while.

[four-rabbit]

Game Night

I don’t really know what this is, I’m just glad I was finally able to finish a sanders sides’ fanfic for the first time. 

This fanfic was born from the last video, obviously, and the realization that the creativity twins canonically feel physical pain when their ideas are desregard or their function is “offended” let’s say, which I had to exagerate and turn int angst, of course, so enjoy!

Summary: Remus get sick so frequently that those nights have became his idea of a sleepover. 

Ship: platonic dukeceit. Or romantic. You can interpret it however you want

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders and Janus Sanders 

Warnings: swearing, kinda grapphic descriptions of pain and sickness, mentions to vomit. Also maybe some umsympathetic Virgil? I don’t see it like that, but I guess it depends on how you interpret it. 

Word Count: 1729

Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-----------------------------------------------------------------

If Remus was real, he would be dead. 

And if snakes could demonstrate worry, they would make exactly the same expression that Janus had after looking at the thermometer. 

"How do you manage to get so bad so quickly?" 

"What can I say, being bad is the only thing I'm good at" Remus joked, the words scratching his throat as an unwanted cough came with them. Janus rolled his eyes, trying to seem calm. And falling. 

"Any idea what was the cause this time?" Remus' focus went down to the old and familiar sheet, which he fiddled with, avoiding the question. 

"How hot am I?" He vaguely pointed to the thermometer. 

"You have a 113°F fever" 

"Well, fuck. That's a new record" he touched his own forehead, smiling almost maniacally right after "Shit. How long do you think it takes until my brain melts? 

"Bold of you to assume it hadn't already" Virgil was the one to answer, entering the room with a bowl of hot soup in his hands. 

"Wow Virgil, that was fast " Janus lied, raising an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"I was trying to actually cook something real for once"

"Please don't tell me your burned the kitchen" the half-snake child replied, with some amount of actual fear behind the dramatic hand to his chest and horrified expression. 

"Ha ha" pause "...not on purpose" Virgil replied, looking away. 

 "Yeah, that's my job!"

"Remus, eat your soup, the grownups are talking" the embodiment of Fear interrupted jokingly, even though any of them was older then twelve. Then he turned to Janus again, already guessing what he was going to say "but... it's fine now. I took care of it" Janus made a mental note to go take a look at the damage as fast as possible. They could all be kids, but Janus knew very well he was the only responsible there. 

"I don't like it...!" Creativity replied, sounding like a child who doesn't want to eat salad. Janus sighed as his thoughts were interrupted, conjuring a bottle of perfume and poured it in the meal. 

"Now eat" and so he did. Virgil raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling, trying not to be so worried. Or at least not demonstrate it. After so many times, he should be used to it, but... well, he was Fear. It was his job to keep track of the worst case scenarios.

"Did he get better?"

"On the contrary. The fever is higher than ever"

"And I also feel like someone ripped my bones out of my skin and then put them back, but like... in the wrong way" Remus added, spilling hot soup all over the sheet and his clothes by trying to communicate with his mouth full. 

"So it's one of those nights" Virgil mumbled.

"I'm afraid so" 

Remus finished his soup smiling like there was no tomorrow, opening his arms despite how much that simple gesture hurted "Game night while I'm dying!" Janus smiled, with more sadness in his eyes than anything else. 

"I'll get the monopoly"

•••

"I won"

"No, you did fucking not" Remus immediately answered, not even looking away from his cards.

"You can see for yourself" Janus showed his game, which clearly meant a victory, indeed. Remus tossed his cards on the sheet like it was their fault. He was so fucking close!

"You cheated" Virgil said sharply, as if it was an undeniable fact. 

"Do you have any proof? Janus challenged, not losing a beat or his mischievous smile.

"Yeah. It's the only thing you know how to do" the teenager replied, his tone as cold as a lake in the winter. Janus looked down before he could help himself. Couldn't he keep it down for at least one night? The night Remus needed both of them?

The cards caught fire. It was an accident, but Remus decided to go with that, jumping out of the sheets, trying to ignore the terrible twist that movement gave to his stomach. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he threw up. At least that way these two would stop fucking fighting. 

"What the hell?!" Virgil exclaimed, tossing his game away like it was burning. Which was the case, indeed.

"Let's watch a horror movie!" Well, he got their attention. 

"Did you need to burn things before saying that?!" Virgil screamed. He was standing and seemed even more distressed.This was a mistake, Janus realized. It was foolish to think they could ignore their differences for the sake of Remus. 

"It's more fun this way! What can it be? One of the classics? Some shitty obscure one?" He kept trying, getting out of bed and walking toward Virgil, who walked away from him. Janus immediately got up too, already anticipating the disaster that situation could turn to. A worst one. Because it was already a disaster. 

"Please, control yourselves"

"I'm controlled! I'm not the one burning things" Virgil replied, the trace of the tempestuous tongue in his voice proving that he was anything but in control. 

"Remus, please. Apologize for burning the cards"

"It's just some stupid paper!

"Now"

"It was a fucking accident"

"We all know it wasn't" Janus almost, almost told Virgil to shut up after that. But he didn't need to make things worse than they already were.

"It was a fucking accident" his voice started getting threatened, his eyes started shining with a red danger "But you know what wouldn't be a fucking accident? if I..." his vision went black, a headache that felt like someone had opened his skull being everything that existed and then not even that. 

Anxiety got out of the room immediately after his friend fainted, keeping his gaze to the ground, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stand any amount of time alone with Deceit. 

•••

   Remus wished he was real, so he would be dead. 

   He felt like someone had catched his body on fire, then hit his head with an axe, then exchanged his blood for poison and his bones with knives. 

   "I knew you were stupid, but not stupid enough to try and suggest an idea for Thomas. On your own. After terrorizing him the whole night. Literally hours after recovering from your last..." Janus looked down at his friend, in one of the only moments he didn't try to hide his emotions. Fear. Somebody had to fill the vacancy now that Virgil is gone, I suppose. 

   "It was..." He coughed blood. "A good idea"

   "Oh yeah, I'm sure he thought the same" Janus rolled his eyes. Remus tried to say that he would be fine, but his throat still hurt from the acid of his stomach and the scratching of his coughs. 

   "I told you to not do anything too dangerous. We are..." he looked down to his gloves which, as he knew, covered up for the scales that apparently had decided that half of his face was not punishment enough. "In a delicate situation, now that..."

   "The emo is gone. I know" Remus completed, his voice not much more than a whisper. 

   "Oh please, no. We are better off without him haunting us all day. If he prefers to deal with them, the only thing I feel is pity" anyone else would have believed that. Remus knew it was bullshit the second those words left his mouth. But he didn't say that. Mostly because he was feeling nauseous again and he learned that, apparently, people don't like if you throw up while trying to talk to them. 

   Janus stayed in silence for a couple more seconds, then something changed in his eyes and he got up.

   "Well, if you need me, I'll be reading" said, but before he could go too far, Remus grabbed the bottom of his coat, deciding to make use of his positions of creativity, as with a snap of his fingers green words appeared in the air:

   "It's game night, not a fucking book club"

   "I don't think you're able to play games right now"

   "I've never been better in my entire fucking life"

   The words glitched as his consciousness stumbled. 

   "Remus"

   "You've been reading, studying, planning, whatever every fucking time we were together" he finally was able to find his voice again "Is it me, Virgil, or just you being a dick? 

   "You need to rest"

   "I'm gonna vomit on your shoes"

   Janus sighed, sitting again on the bed. 

   "What do you propose?"

   "Truth or dare" Janus never plays truth or dare. The two of them, Virgil and Remus, would play it at any given opportunity, on the other hand. 

   "Don't test me"

   Floating words again: "I'm gonna take it easy"

   "You never take it easy."

   Remus frowned. 

   "Ok" the half-snake man sighed "let's find a compromise: I can play Never Have I Ever" 

   Remus smiled diabolically. So they had a deal. 

•••

   "Finally! It's been so long since our last sleepover!"

   "This is anything but a sleepover" Janus replied, not looking away from his book.

   "Yes it is! We're sleeping together not in a sexual way and wearing pajamas.

   "I'm not-" Remus snapped his fingers and suddenly Janus had a yellow onesie on. "...I'm not having a sleepover with you. And you're not even that bad"

   "But I'll be. And in the meantime... Please play truth or dare with me just this time please please" he said in one breath. 

   "You already know my opinion about this game"

   "I know that you like it! You would always laugh and even participate when me and Virgin played!" Janus flinched.

   "That was a long time ago"

   "Just two rounds!" 

   "I..."

   "C'mon! You're not gonna lose an arm if you play just one time. And even if you did, you would still have five perfectly good ones left"

  Janus hesitated. He knew Remus would get worse. It was obvious by the tiredness in his voice, even when he was so excited. And how pale he was. How deep his eyeshadow appeared, making him seem like a dead body. 

   He sighed. Remus smiled from ear to ear. Literally.

   "Truth or dare?!" Asked as if he was a child whose birthday had come earlier.

   "Dare, obviously" Janus said, unable to stop himself from smiling at his friend's happiness, even though they both knew it wouldn't last long. 

   But that was okay. Because they would have one another. And that was enough. It had to be.

[aprilsrant]

Be brave, little wizard.

PAIRING: Neville Longbottom x Aunt!Reader (platonic, of course) | Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) and Alice have been best friends since they were kids, way before Hogwarts. After everythin that happened to her and Frank, (Y/N) is the one that takes care of Neville.

WORD COUNT: 2,9k

WARNINGS: pretty sad, angst, character death, change of canon (big detail but i think it was necessary), mentions of Neville’s parents being tortured, reader kills someone, ups. If there are more and there aren’t here, please tell me.

A/N: This took me ages to even start and I’m really sorry, but now that’s here I feel so proud of it. This has to be the fic of my own that I love the most even if I broke my own heart while writing it. The end is kind of rush because it was almost 3am, sorry.

English is not my first language.

MASTERLIST | WORK IN PROGRESS.

Gif below is not mine.

One could never find Alice Fortescue and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) far away from one another, one of them would always follow the other. Both girls became joined by the hip after a particularly hot day in July when (Y/N) and her family visited the Ice Cream Parlour on Diagon Alley, owned by Alice’s uncle, Florean. 

After that, Alice and (Y/N) did everything together meaning it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that their friendship only grew stronger on their days at Hogwarts. They had their fair share of fights of course, people always do, whether the matter is relevant or silly, but they knew better: arguments happen and proving your point might be important, but friendships hold more value than being right. 

Although the Wizarding World was turning more dark and dangerous with every passing second because of Voldemort’s hunger for power and his ruthless Death Eaters hunting down muggleborns and what they liked to call blood traitors, Alice and (Y/N) still tried to find joy and happiness in the littlest of things, exciting over Alice and Frank’s wedding, daydreaming about the day they could get a proper and big ceremony, instead of a small gathering with the closest of friends and family members. 

On July, 30th of 1980, (Y/N) understood what Alice was to her. The girl with the plump, always happy looking face was, not only her closest confidant, but her sister as well. They may not have been related by blood, yet they loved each other like family. Thick as thieves, as the muggles would say.

(Y/N) had barely sat in the brown, ugly chair beside her best friend’s hospital bed, with her newborn boy asleep and unaware of the silent tears running through both of the girl’s cheeks, when Alice confided. 

“We want you to be Neville’s Godmother.”

Her eyes stopped looking at the baby boy tucked in her arms to glance towards Alice’s direction, who was now being hugged from behind by Frank, both of them with large grins on their faces and reassuring expressions.

“M-Me?”

“Well, of course you, (Y/N)!,” exclaimed Frank before letting go of Alice for a second and getting shushed by both of them to keep him from disturbing Neville, “you are practically Alice’s sister after so many years of friendship,” he continued, now in a more quiet voice.

“He’s right, you are my sister and I can’t think of anyone else being better than you as his godmother.”

Several hours later, Harry Potter, son of Lily Evans and James Potter, was born. (Y/N) had gone to their room a day after to deliver her congratulations along with the ones from Alice and Frank, encountering Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew hunched down over the crib in which Harry was sleeping peacefully, staring at his small frame and his tiny chest barely rising with every breath. 

None of them imagined how fast things could change for the worse. 

(Y/N) knew Alice’s choice of career was dangerous, being an Auror was never an easy task but with Death Eaters and Voldemort bringing chaos and destruction to their world, the job was even harder. Still, she never thought she would be escorted to St. Mungo’s after receiving the news that her best friend, her sister, and her husband had been tortured by a group of blood supremacists seeking for their Master, not after also learning about the Potter’s deaths and how they’d been betrayed.  

A healer explained to her what had happened to them, but she didn’t care, she didn’t want to listen; she didn’t have the strength for it. She could only sit beside Alice and grab her hand, and cry and beg someone, anyone, to bring her back. 

“Alice, please, I need you, please,” (Y/N) repeated between sobs, almost like a mantra, ”Neville needs you, he is your son and- and he needs his mother, please, Alice. You can’t leave us.”

During her fourth day in the hospital, which she would only leave to eat and shower because of Augusta Longbottom’s insistence, a diveleshed Remus Lupin walked through the doors of the Janus Thickey Ward. He sat down beside (Y/N) and neither of them talked for a long time, until Remus decided he needed to say something.

“I don’t have much to say, (Y/N), but I know how close you were and I’m so sorry,” the boy whispered while reaching to grab her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I’m sorry too, Remus,” she whispered back, biting her lip and trying to not cry again,” neither of them deserved this.”

Neither did us, the pair thought.

“Where is Harry?,” (Y/N) asked him, suddenly remembering that the Potters had left a child too, “is he staying with you?”

“N-No, no. He is with Lily’s sister,” Remus answered after swallowing harshly, “what about Neville?”

“Augusta, Frank’s mum, will take care of him.” (Y/N) glanced over the old woman sitting beside her son while her grandchild rested on his crib. “I’ve been thinking about asking her if I can move in with them, I- I don’t feel like being alone right now.”

“You are always welcomed to visit me,” he assured in a low voice, as if he wasn’t sure of how she would react, “I know we weren’t the closest of friends back in Hogwarts, but- but you can count with me, we can count with each other.”

The sixteen year old (Y/N) would have been a stuttering mess if Remus Lupin had said that to her back in their sixth year at Hogwarts. Alice would have laughed at her embarrassed expression, joked about her sweaty hands and insisted that the Gryffindor returned her feelings, to which she would refuse to accept.

Now her best friend was in the hospital, a place she could never leave, her husband in the same condition and their son would have to grow up without his parents. She would have the chance to watch Neville first steps, to hear his first words, to celebrate the arrival of his Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven, to compliment his achievements, to just be there for him every time he’ll need it. It wasn’t fair and she would give her soul in an instant to anyone that claimed they could bring Alice and Frank back, even if it meant not seeing them again.

Taking care of Neville was easier than (Y/N) had expected. He’d only cry if he was hungry or if his diapers needed change, and for moments the woman wished for him to be more like the kind of babies who won’t let you sit down and relax, so then she wouldn’t have to force herself to block the blinding rage, the never ending desire for vengeance and, the worst of all, the guilt sinking down in her stomach and numbing her mind every single time Neville would look at her and smile, or whenever a giggle would escape his mouth after watching (Y/N) conjure tiny, golden lights with her wand. 

The first time Neville properly talked, which meant he didn’t just babble like he usually did, (Y/N) swallowed all of her tears in front of Augusta and only let them out behind her room’s closed door after dinner. That same night, she sent a message through her Patronus to Remus, asking if she could Apparate in his flat right away. When she received an affirmative answer, she didn’t waste any time, quickly informing Augusta where she was going in case of an emergency.

The minute she was in front of his door, she’d started to regret her decision. What was she thinking? They weren’t particularly close, they would see each other from time to time since he would visit Neville once or twice every two weeks and he would go with her to see Alice and Frank, but never really talked about the important things, just making light conversation and asking each other how they were doing, both of them knowing that neither would answer the question truthfully.

After coming to the conclusion that she needed to do this, needed someone to confide in, (Y/N) raised her fist and knocked on the door two times, waited, and knocked again —his idea so they could know it was the other behind the door—. 

On the other side of the threshold was Remus Lupin with his wand pointed towards her.

“Bowtruckle,” she said confidently, although her hand was clutching tightly around her wand.

“Thunderbird.”

She loathed the idea of having safe words, but he had insisted on it because of the few Death Eaters still on the run and causing havoc. Even if she’ll never mention it to him, the second the word she had picked up for him to say left his mouth, tranquility invaded her system, calming down most of her fears. 

“We could have chosen better words,” (Y/N) commented while she entered his apartment, which looked like he had tried to tidy everything up before her arrival but had failed miserably. The space was small, not a problem since he lived alone, but that meant you could see all of the rooms. There were mugs on every surface, clothes thrown over the sofa and a bin filled to the top with chocolate wrappers. 

“The whole place is a mess, I’m sorry,” he rushed to say while flicking his wand and enchanted the cups to clean themselves, different items of clothes, mostly sweaters, flew across the flat and ended up in the laundry basket, “I-I wasn’t expecting you to come today.”

“It’s good, Remus, I don’t mind,” (Y/N) assured, following him and sitting down on the maroon sofa that occupied pretty much all of the living room, “I should be the one apologising for showing up with such short notice and at this hour, but I… I guess I needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh, okay. Did something happen? Is Neville alright?”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine, brilliant actually,” she answered quickly to not worry him,” the thing is, he said his first word today and, and, well, he called me mum.”

“And now you feel guilty,” Remus assumed. (Y/N) had filled with tears once more, blurring her sight and dripping down her cheeks. When she started to sob, shaking her shoulders while her hands tried to muffle the sounds, Remus understood it wasn’t just guilt, but the grief she hadn’t let herself experience. Pulling her closer to him, Remus rested his chin on top of her head while his arms embraced her figure.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Remus,” she whimpered, “I’m not, I’m not trying to replace her, I swear.” Her hands found his old, forest green sweater, fingers clutching desperately to the fabric while her cries increased. “I could never replace her.”

“You are not replacing Alice, (Y/N),” he denied. His fingertips rubbing her arm tenderly, knowing nothing would be enough to comfort but still trying, just for her to know he was there. “You’re doing your best and there’s nothing wrong with Neville seeing you as a mother figure.”

“I don’t want him to,” the words left her mouth in a whisper, as if she was scared of what Remus would think of her for saying them out loud, for crossing her mind, “I shouldn’t be his mother figure because she should be here. She should be the one to feed him, to play with him, to get to know him and- and she is not, she is not here, Remus.”

Neville is four years old when he asks his Auntie (Y/N), because yes, he understands that she is not her mother, about the middle size portrait hung in the living room. The little boy doesn’t recognise the man nor the woman carrying a baby painted in it, for they don’t like his aunt, or granny or Remus, (Y/N)’s friend who always gives him chocolate when Augusta is not in the room.

(Y/N)’s heart beats loudly after hearing her godson’s question, the tightness in her chest making her feel trapped. Sitting down Neville beside her on the sofa, she glanced down to the boy, who was the spitting image of Alice.

“The people in the picture are your parents, Nev,” (Y/N) began in a soft tone, her fingers playing tenderly with the curls of his brown hair, “and the baby the woman, your mother, is carrying is you of course.”

“Why aren’t they here?,” he asked after climbing and settling on her lap, his head raised to look at his aunt.

“Because they- they need to be in another place.”

“Will they- will they come back, auntie?”

“I don’t know, Nev,” she lied while hugging him and planting a delicate kiss on one of his round cheeks, the lump on her throat growing. 

She’d hoped he didn’t ask more questions or else she’ll have to explain the tears. He didn’t.

(Y/N) wouldn’t dare to say that the pain and the guilt abandoned her completely, but with each passing year things got just a little bit easier and her heart less heavy. 

The first time Neville visited his parents wasn’t so terrible as she had imagined. (Y/N) had put him aside before entering the doors leading to the Janus Thickey Ward and explained, one more time, the situation to him, making sure he was ready.

“You need to be brave, little wizard. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

Neville was nine years old when Alice gave him a gum wrapper, something that quickly became a “tradition” between the two of them, mother and son. She would never recover and she would never watch Neville grow up and become a man, but such simple gesture showed him consistency and, most importantly, that Alice’s love for him could never be taken away from her. 

People would pity the death most of the time, (Y/N) had been guilty of it, but after everything that had happened she realized it was so much worse for those left behind. You are expected to overcome your grief and move on with your life, but the void and the mark someone is capable of leaving in you never goes away and it’s the reason why it hurts so much to lose them.

Although (Y/N) hadn’t been alone, Augusta and Neville would never understand her pain and she’d never understand theirs for they were very different. Therefore, Remus Lupin became her rock in the darkest times and she became his, confiding in each other during their most vulnerable moments. 

They would spend entire days together, playing with Neville and telling him stories of their years at Hogwarts; drinking tea near the fireplace during winter while discussing books, politics, muggle movies or whatever topic they could think of; celebrating birthdays just for the sake of Neville, who loved the cake and giving presents. It was clear that falling in love with Remus hadn’t been much difficult for her, it was, instead, getting him to open up and let her in his life in a whole new way. 

(Y/N) respected his decision, it was better to have Remus as a close friend and companion than not have him at all. She would stay with him on the days near the full moon —he told her after quite a few shots of Firewhisky and she admitted she’d been suspecting for a long time now—, look after his wounds and sleep on his sofa, because she could never take his bed in those nights (especially the rough ones). 

On May 2nd, he left her behind.

However, she had barely escaped the claws of death, her only thought being Neville and how she needed to stay alive for him. 

Bellatrix Lestrange was the last Death Eater standing, the mad woman fighting Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger in the middle of the Great Hall, while Harry Potter faced Voldemort all by himself.

(Y/N) didn’t know how or from where she had gathered the strength to send all of the three girls behind her with a swift motion of her wand, but seeing Lestrange, one of the Death Eaters responsible for her best friend’s fate, shouting the Killing Curse to the Weasley girl had ignited the fire she’d tried so long to extinguish. Perhaps because Ginny reminded her of Lily for a second, or because she was tired of watching innocent people die around her.

She was now standing a couple of metres away from Bellatrix, the one that’d tortured her sister into insanity, taking away all of her life. But (Y/N) wouldn’t become one of her victims, she wouldn’t be a name on a list and she wouldn’t let Bellatrix take another person from Neville’s life.

It hadn’t been easy and she should have felt sick of it, but the lifeless body of Bellatrix Lestrange and the roars of people all over the place, brought her a bittersweet feeling of satisfaction. 

Sitting down beside Neville after the final battle finished, she threw one of her arms around his shoulders and kissed his forehead, silently thanking whoever had watched over him. 

“Earlier, I saw you on the Courtyard defending a group of students from the Dementors,” he began, “and your Patronus was so, so extraordinary. What did you think of, aunt?”

(Y/N) allowed herself to smile softly.

“I thought of the day you were born, of course.”

TAGLIST: @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @gcdric @shadowsinger11 @thisismynerdyself @cappsikle @idont-knowrn @theweasleysredhair @aesthetically-hailey @slytherinsunrise @bannerbubble @lilac-wrists @storyisnotover​ @minty-malfoy​

If you want me to add you to the taglist, let me know by sending and ask, a dm, or leaving a comment!

[little-kat07]

The Perfect Cake

[OH MY GOD GUYS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!! 

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

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

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

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

Link to book

---

Pairings: Logicality

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

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

---

Patton stood in the center of the kitchen.

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

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

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

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

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

Patton took a deep breath and got to work.

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

"Patton? You ok, Padre?"

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

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

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

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

Oh, how wrong Patton had been.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks, son!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Janus sighed. "If you say so."

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

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

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

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

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

Patton was an amazing decorator.

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

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

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

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

Patton nodded back. "Of course."

Janus smiled, relieved, and left.

---

---

Patton was SO TIRED.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...and then he tripped.

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

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

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

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

Shoot, this isn't ABOUT THE CAKE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan walked out of the dining room and almost choked.

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

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

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

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

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

Patton could barely find the breath to speak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patton looked up in confusion. "Me?"

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

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

[purpleivy12]

The Wall (Roman Angst)

Summary: Roman has a wall, in his room. And on that wall, he can see the insults people think.

Words: Approx. 1k

Tw: Mild Descriptions of blood, self-hatred, crying, cruel words. (If there’s anything else, please let me know!)

Roman wasn’t just creativity. He was the unloved romantic one, the insecure confident one, the ego. Maybe that’s why he was cursed with The Wall. The Wall that showed him every insult every side had ever thought. 

It was in his room, right behind his desk, so he had to look at it whenever he was working. At first, long ago, The Wall didn’t bother him. Occasionally, a word would appear, in the color of whatever side it was directed at, the initials of the side that thought it underneath. 

The words or phrases wouldn’t come often, but it was pretty evenly distributed between the sides. When they did, Roman would ignore them, unless they had been said out loud- then, he’d go and find the side that said them, and encourage them to apologize.

Once, he had invited Patton into his room for a sleepover, and he had seen The Wall, and had burst into tears. Then, the wall had been small, only a few insults and harsh thoughts, but since then, Roman had willed it away. The only problem is… he could still see it, though the others could not. 

It started slowly, so slowly that Roman wasn’t even sure if he was seeing it properly, but soon, he saw more and more red text begin to appear all over the wall. Harsh criticisms, a bit more than the petty insults of long ago. Roman found himself crying himself to sleep more and more often, hung up on something from Logan saying he was useless and impractical, a word from Patton saying he was too loud, and something from Virgil saying he was annoying and stupid. 

So after years and years of seeing these insults on the wall, it was mostly red. Roman tried not to say or even think insults anymore, knowing how much hurt they could cause. And after all these years, of course Roman jumps onto Deceit’s words in the courtroom, desperate for any sort of compliments after years and years of staring at the Wall, redder and redder until there was barely any blue or purple or navy. He went along with Deceit’s words, and then at the end, he switched and went with Patton.

But Roman made the wrong choice at the courtroom. Of course he did. And the wall grew, creeping off of one wall, and spreading to the ones right next to it,the red creeping out and to the sides, ever expanding. As the date of the wedding drew closer, Roman couldn’t even keep up with how fast the words spread onto the wall.

Maybe- maybe that was why Roman snapped, in the living room that day. When Deceit Janus, revealed his name, Roman laughed, he did, and he felt bad for it right after. Then, Janus’s next words hit him- like a slap in the face. The next minute was a blur, not the hero, evil twin, mustache, we love you no you don't, and he sinks out without really thinking about it, falling down against the wall and closing his eyes, letting the tears escape.

His head turns, and he spots a stark yellow word on the wall, in contrast to all the red. “Janice? What are you, a middle-school librarian?” sits there, with Roman’s initials next to him, and Roman cries harder, because he was the only one who deserved to be on the wall, because Roman was horrible, terrible, worthless,useless. 

He scratches at the wall with his nails, breaking them and even when he scratches off the paint, the plaster, the wood underneath still holds the insult. Roman collapses against the wall, knuckles and nails bloody and torn, exhausted, physically and mentally. He looks around and watches as the red spreads like wildfire, coating the walls of the room, spreading over and over and over until everything is barely legible from the amount of writing on the wall.

This is how Patton finds him, going to check on him after the episode. He gasps, looking at the text, Roman not having the energy to keep it hidden. Tears spring to Patton’s eyes, taking in the words, and the bloody stains near the yellow one. Some he recognises from his own thoughts, and he chokes on his tears. Roman saw all of it? 

Roman looks up when he sees Patton enter, and he thinks that now Patton knew he was weak, now Patton wouldn’t like him even more, and a new red word springs up. Patton sees it, a bold red “Unloved”, with… Roman’s initials next to them?

“Kiddo…” Patton says, the breath leaving him. He rushes forwards, wrapping Roman in a tight hug, tears brimming in his eyes. Roman doesn’t want to lean into the hug, doesn’t want to accept it, doesn’t think he deserves it, but eventually he gives in, clinging on to Patton like he might be snatched away at any moment. Roman cried until he couldn’t anymore, staying in Patton’s arms for hours, before slumping forwards and passing out from the breakdown.

Patton would carry Roman out of the room, laying the exhausted prince on the couch and tearfully explaining to the others what he had seen. Logan would bandage Roman’s hands, a few tears falling from his eyes at how stupid they all had been. Virgil would stay with Roman until he woke up, anxiously telling him that he didn’t mean anything he had said. And Janus would go into Roman’s room and look at The Walls, a pounding headache from all the lies written upon it. 

Janus read every single insult, every lie, every truth, everything somewhere in between, but- he couldn’t help but notice that most of the red text, the harshest, cruelest words, all seemed to come from Roman himself.

Send an ask, pm/dm, or anything else to be added to taglist for sanders sides writing or Roman angst!

[gray-does-stuff]

Escapism | Patton angst songfic

Characters: Patton, Everyone Else (Though really just mentioned)

Words: 566

Summary:

In the aftermath of the Redux, everything is a mess. Logan and Virgil we’re ignoring Patton, and everyone else was actively avoiding him. He wonder what life could be like when this is all over.

Notes:

This is a re-post of something I’ve already posted, though really only in concept. Since it’s getting redone. Mostly because I was practically living on only a few hours of sleep. So here I am, months later, actually redoing is, while already slightly tired. I guess old habits die hard, but I hope this is better anyways.

@shut-up-its-funny Your cool, thanks for reading this beforehand!

'I guess I have to face,'

'That in this awful place,'

'I shouldn't show a trace, of doubt'

After last episode, everything had been turned on its head. Patton just can't face that this place, once one of the best places in the world to him, is now filled with sadness and broken trust. After everything that went down, no one wanted to be in his company. Roman thought that with Patton taking Janus’ side, he declared Roman as worse, or evil. Then with Logan and Virgil were ignoring him, not unlike Roman, but they both were more ice cold toward him, opposed to Romans Red hot anger. And lastly Were Janus and Remus, Janus was still on edge and still wasn't ready to actually talk to him, And Remus... Patton never really talked to him, He had though of him as the devil after the split, and he still isn't ready to talk about that.

'But pulled against the grain,'

'I feel a little pain,'

'That I would rather do without'

'Logan wouldn't be proud of him but, at this point who is there to be proud of him..' He thought, 'I'm sure not even Thomas likes me, I failed him, instead of fixing my earlier mistakes, I messed up again.' Patton had gone back to repression, Think there was no harm in it. I mean, 'the only reason he was told to sop was because people cared about him, but right now, is there anybody who would like to see me, talk to me even.' he thought.

The first time He almost saw everyone together after that episode, It didn't go as well as he'd originally hoped. First of all, Logan didn't even bother showing up, despite his claims of being completely fine. To Patton's surprise, Virgil came, but basically just ignored e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶o̶n̶e̶ him. Another shock had been Roman, He had come, maybe Patton could talk to hi-. As soon as Roman saw Janus He'd started yelling. Even sometimes yelling jabs at Patton and very rarely, Virgil. At this point, he started his escapism into his mind.

'I'd rather be, free-ee-ee, free-ee-ee, free.'

Maybe someday, we could all get along. Where instead of Roman and Janus laughing at each other, they'll laugh with each other. And Logan won't hid behind what his function is supposedly 'not capable of'. Plus, maybe Remus could find a place for himself up here, it must be lonely down there by himself. He'd definitely felt that this whole time... and so many more things he wished were what was happening now. Then he heard a really loud voice...

'I'd rather be, free-ee-ee, free-ee-ee, free.'

"Don't f*cking talk to me like that, you s*itty snake.” Roman said.

“Now, now Roman, that wasn’t very princely, Though really, What did I expect?” Janus replied with snark.

Patton didn’t realize it up in till he snapped out of his thoughts but, he was full on crying. This reminded Him of Steven Universe, or more exactly, Blue diamond. The was she mourned Pink diamond, it was the same with how Patton mourned for a better time. It was like the mindscape was dying a little everyday, it becoming darker, a husk of the shiny, colourful place it used to be. ‘Hey, maybe we could all watch Steven universe again with Janus someday.’ He though. And there he drifted back into him escapism...

[all-yn-oween]

Moceitweek2021- Day 2: Aftermath

Day 2: Aftermath

Summary: Post POF, Patton just needed comfort, and Janus knocked on his door to check on him. (obvious angst, but comfort)

Patton just left Roman’s room.

His cheeks were wet and his eyes had turned mostly red. He still had a lump in his throat, and couldn’t do otherwise. He softly closed the door behind him, a little light-headed.

Roman had yelled at him for an hour straight, before calming down and just staring at the ground in silent. He had shouted him how furious and betrayed he felt, how unfair the situation was, and how they were making a mistake by accepting De- no, Janus.

Patton had tried to play the devil’s advocate and to explain that Janus just wanted Thomas’ good, like all of them. Roman heard, but didn’t listen.

Patton wasn’t offended, the creative side had been taught that there was a determined line between Good and Bad people. And see Janus (a “Dark side”) being accepted and trusted that quickly was unbearable for Roman.

The moral side had been comprehensive, and left him when he had asked him to.

They had cried as well, and it hurt Patton to see one of his kiddos cry that much.

He sighed and walk towards his own room. He saw Logan in the hallway, and he barely glanced at Patton before entering his room. Patton wanted to tell him how much he was sorry, and he deeply regretted how he talked to him earlier. How he had ignored him, whereas he knew that Logan had troubles to get heard.

Patton bit his lips, and gulped as he felt his eyes get teary again. He quickly wiped them as he rushed to his room.

He closed the door behind him, as he felt the usually comforting warmth of his room on his cold skin. He sat against the door and ran his fingers through his hair.

Patton felt like he had done something wrong, and that the only thing that he did was to hurt his kiddos.

He tried to calm down his sobs, but they kept getting worse and worse.

When, after a while, Patton heard a knock on the door.

A little, gentle knock.

He looked up, catching his breath. He stood up, his legs shaking slightly, and cleared his throat. The moral side then opened the door and looked at the side that had knocked.

“It seems like everything’s fine here.” Janus stated, looking at Patton with a concerned face. Patton chuckled lightly, even though it sounded bitter.

“Yeah, it’s really awful..” he mumbled, nodding a little. “Do you wanna come in?” he eventually asked, thinking that Janus may want to talk of something.

Janus hummed in agreement, and entered when Patton moved aside. He then pushed the door a little, and glanced back at Janus.

“I-.. about what happened I…” he started, fiddling with his fingers.

“I understand.” Janus stopped him. “It’s difficult for you. For all of us. I wanted to apologize to Roman for what I’ve said. Remus had rightly pointed out that it wasn’t the best thing to say. However I doubt that he wants to see me.”

Patton shook his head a little, sniffing.

“No, I don’t think so neither… Roman is a little mad at us..” he softened the truth and Janus seemed to notice it since he frowned a little.

“He is absolutely furious, am I right?” Patton nodded silently.

“Yeah.. He will calm down eventually.. Virgil will maybe have the right words, and things will be okay.” he replied, as he sat on his bed. Janus snorted at that comment.“Logan’s very angry as well, I think he hates me. An apology won’t be enough…”

Janus sighed and walked towards his bed, to sit next to Patton.

“Mistakes happen.” Patton huffed a little.

“Mistakes happen but mistakes keep happening.”

“People can get better, I think Logan is smart enough to know that.” Janus added, putting a hand on Patton’s shoulder.

The touch was so gentle and comforting, Patton couldn’t help but lean into it.

“I hope so… I ignored him a lot, I’ll completely understand if he’ll hold a grudge against me..”

“I’m sure he won’t. As long as you try to be better after your apology, everything will be fine.” Janus explained as he stroked his shoulder with his thumb.

Patton nodded in agreement. “I will. I promise I will. I want to be a better person.”

“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Things take time.”

Patton looked up at Janus and pulled him into a warm embrace. He buried his face into the crook of Janus’ neck and sniffed.

Janus softly hugged back, and rubbed his back. He genuinely felt worried for Patton, he wanted to reassure him as much as he possibly could.

“And you? How are you?” Patton asked him, after staying silent for some minutes. Janus looked down at him, smiling a little.

“Maybe better than you all. It’s not that negative for me, I have been accepted and it feels nice. However I know that it wasn’t inconsequential. That is why I wanted to check on you first. I know that it was difficult for you to trust me.”

Patton hummed a little in agreement, and pulled him closer. He needed comfort, and Janus was good at providing some.

“It wasn’t a good moment, yeah.. But I know you only want Thomas’ well being, like all of us.. It may take time for the others to notice it, but I truly think that Thomas needs you. He needs you in his life, because you are here to make sure he takes care of himself. You embody a lot more than Deceit, just like I embody more than just Thomas’ morality..” Patton told him, as he looked at Janus with a compassionate smile.

Janus smiled back, genuinely feeling touched by what Patton just said.

“Thank you Patton. I do appreciate it.” he replied with a soft voice.

“Of course. Roman may be the one to take time to accept it, but he will with Virgil’s help. Virgil knows what you’ve been through to be accepted..” Janus chuckled a little at that, again. Patton noticed it, and looked at him with a confused glance.

“I apologize, I wasn’t mocking you. It’s just that Virgil doesn’t really appreciate me, I think we can say that he hates me as much as Roman hates me.” Patton looked surprised at this.

“Really? Why?” he asked.

“Some things that happened at the Dark Sides.” Janus replied simply. Patton nodded, Janus may not want to talk about it right now.

“Okay.. Anyway, they will accept you one day.. I know my kiddos, I know they will.”

There was a calm silence between them, before Patton smiled softly.

“You give good hugs..” he stated. It was true, Janus’ hugs were warm and he could fall asleep at any given moment. He didn’t even realize that he had stopped sobbing.

“Thank you. Years of training. Remus is very clingy.” Patton chuckled.

“Roman is too. Does Virgil hug you?” he asked, wanting to know how it was to live with Virgil at the Dark Sides.

Janus shook his head no. “He never touched me, as a child, I think he was scared by my scales. He then started to despise me. He never touched Remus neither.” he explained with a shrug.

“They’re beautiful.” Patton said, without realizing that he did.

“… Remus and Virgil?”

“Your scales.” The moral side replied, with a soft almost loving (according to Janus) smile.

He stayed silent for a second, waiting for something that could tell him that Patton had lied, before smiling back.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Patton buried his face again into Janus’ neck. “So.. Virgil never hugged you?”

“Never.”

“Oh..”

“Oh?” Janus repeated, a little confused by his reaction.

“He did hug me once.” Patton explained. “He then told me to never say it in front of the others, because he didn’t want Roman to tease him. I think Roman knows that he likes hugs now though.” he shrugged a little.

“How about Logan?” Janus asked, curious, but mostly mesmerized by Patton’s calm voice.

“Logan isn’t really fond of touch. He is the one who tell us that hugs are important to spend a good day, but he never hugged someone. I hug him at least once a day, but he pulled away after one or two minutes. His hugs are nice though.” Patton replied.

“It’s funny how you can tell who gives the best hugs.” Janus noticed with a small chuckle.

“I never tried to hug Remus..”

“Oh, I can assure you that he will try to hug you one day. He always tried to hug Roman or Virgil. From what he had told me after trying, Roman started screaming and Virgil just pushed him away.”

“I don’t know why but I’m not surprised..” Patton chuckled lightly.

“I can tell you’re not.” Janus replied with a smile while caressing his hair.

Patton hummed in content and stayed in his embrace, leaning into his hand.

“Can you stay here?”

“Of course not.” Janus lied.

“Is that a lie?”

“Yes.” Patton smiled softly.

He felt better to know that Janus was going to stay. His company reassured him a lot. Both of their heart had fluttered, but none of them decided to say something about it. They just stayed in this warm embrace, listening to each other’s calm breath.

--

Welp, it was nice to write that! I promise the next one would be a little happier though :) Thank you so much for all the feedback I've got for the previous day !