#yes he crashed it's his fault but it's not like he asked to get logan's car and they gave it to him

[albonium]

i won't tolerate alex slander for this it's not his fault the team are giving him logan's car

[fangirl-dot-com]

🖤Prologue - My Reputation's Never Been Worse

Ok, so I was in the mood to create something dealing with the news about Logan's car being traded for Alex. So, I thought, why not give Reputations a prologue. Now, this does not happen in 2024. This is set around the 2023 Brazil Grand Prix. Everything in this story is fake. I'm sorry I had to make some of the drivers mean - in no way do I think that they act like this. Yes, they could be nicer to Logan but because I don't know them personally, I have no real thoughts about what they do in their own lives.

All I know is that Logan deserves all the love and my heart hurts for him.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Saturday, November 4, 2023 

“You want to do what?” 

James sighed as he hunched over his desk. Logan was in disbelief over the question that he was just asked. Alex sat to his right, chewing on his finger nails. 

“It’s just for one race Logan. It’s no big deal.” 

Logan’s brows pinched in annoyance. “No big deal? Two races ago, we scored our first double points. I have raced clean, I’ve shown you what I can do.” 

“That right now doesn’t matter Logan,” James pushed. “What matters is the team. And we need to keep pushing to get points.” 

“Then let me race. Let me prove to you that I can do it.” 

Alex coughed, but no one paid attention to him. The Thai’s eyes were pointed at the floor. His silence was deafening. Logan leaned back in his seat. 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” 

There wasn’t an answer from James, which gave Logan everything he needed to know. How dare they come to a circuit without an extra chassis. How dare they ask Logan to give up his car that he worked so hard to get in the first place. It was ridiculous. And even if Alex managed to score points, it wouldn’t really matter. There were only a few races left. 

Logan finally turned to his teammate. “What do you think about this?” 

Alex only replied, “I would do what was best for the team.” 

A scoff escaped the blonde’s lips.  

“So if I had crashed out, and they asked you to give your car to me, what would you say?” 

“It wouldn’t matter because they’d never ask me to do that. I’d still drive.” 

Logan’s jaw wanted to fall. Did Alex really just say that? The man who had been so confident in Logan. The one who encouraged him after every fault. The person who was supposed to be his teammate. 

Logan could only collapse against the back of the chair. In frustration, he threw his hands up. 

“Fine. Whatever it take for the team right?” he bit. 

“Thank you Logan.” 

However, the American was out the door before he could even hear James. He needed some air. As he walked around the paddock, he saw lots of people but thankfully (or sadly) they didn’t pay attention to him. After walking for a bit, he knew where he was automatically going to. 

The back of the Mercedes garage. 

George, bless his heart, had comforted him once after a particular bad DNF and told him that if he ever needed a place to just sit, he was always welcome there. The tall Briton was always nice to the American. Way nicer than anyone had really treated him. 

He sat on the wet-ish grass and pulled out his phone. Time to look like he was actually doing something. Maybe the weather in Madrid was nice, or maybe it was raining back home? The weather app was always his go to. 

It only took a matter of moments for the post to go live. His eyes followed the mass amount of comments that poured in. And most of them were not lovely. He wanted to cry, but he knew better. 

Footsteps made him aware that someone was coming. He quickly stood up and rounded a corner, putting his back flat against the wall. 

It was Alex, George, Lando, and Oscar. 

“Great,” he whispered when he realized that there was no way to escape without them seeing. Oh well, eavesdropping was one of his specialties. 

“He was not happy,” he heard Alex say. “I don’t blame him.” 

Lando scoffed, or well, he thought it was Lando. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if he was a better driver.” 

Yep, that was Lando. 

“Come on, don’t say that.” 

Thank you Oscar, Logan wanted to say. Thank you for standing up for me. 

“Mate, you were just saying yesterday about how he really isn’t fit for F1. You said that he should have stuck with Indy Car or something.” 

Ouch.

Logan wanted to throw up. 

“Shit, I was really mean to him in there. I should have said something.” That was Alex again. 

Logan could practically hear Lando roll his eyes. For some reason, George has stayed eerily quiet. 

“Alex, it’s his own fault. I’m just saying everything that everyone is thinking. I’m the only one who is brave enough to say it. Logan Sergeant has no business being in Formula 1.” 

Oscar stuttered out, “That’s enough Lando.” 

“Right sorry, forgot you two were close.” 

Come on Oscar. 

“Not that close. He exaggerates a bit. To be honest, I just felt bad for him. He kind of stuck to me and I just let him.” 

Oh.

Alex sighed. “He wanted to prove something so much. But there’s really no need.” 

“No need?” Logan whispered to himself. 

“James isn’t extending his contract. Williams is going with whoever wins this year’s Formula 2 championship.” 

There was silence for a bit. Logan took the time to reign in his breaths that were quickly getting faster and faster. He did not need to have a panic attack here and now. 

“We have to go, Andrea is texting me.” 

“I’ll go with. My engineers have to look over Logan’s car to change some things.” 

He heard footsteps start to walk away. The lone Williams driver let out a deep sigh and sank to the ground. His head was automatically in his hands as he finally let his tears shed. What he didn’t see was a 6-foot Briton walking his way. 

The blonde gasped when he felt a food nudge his. His head shot up and was faced with George. 

“Oh hey. Didn’t see you coming.” 

“I know you were listening.” 

Red flushed Logan’s face as the idea of being caught. 

“It’s not eavesdropping if everyone talks so loudly.” 

George sighed. “I’m not mad Logan. I’m worried for you.” 

A scoff escaped from Logan. 

“You’d be the first.” 

George felt his heart drop at the sentence. 

“I try and try, and no matter what I do, it’s never good enough.” 

“Mate, you can’t get anywhere in a Williams. Did you even see my rookie year? It was bloody awful.” 

Logan looked back down. “But you’re now in Mercedes. You won the Formula 2 championship. I wasn’t even runner up or third place. Williams is all I have, er, well, had I guess.” 

“I’m truly sorry Logan.” 

“Sure.” 

George started to walk away, knowing that trying to convince the American that he was good enough was a lost cause. Logan waited until the Briton left before standing up to make his way back to the garage. 

He could feel the eyes on him now as he made the journey back to Williams. His eyes caught George standing with Lewis, Max, and Charles. They looked sad as they watched him walk. 

Whatever, Logan did want or need their pity. 

The American kept on walking, only stopping to ask for a car to take him back to his hotel. Man, did he wish Benny were here. It would make everything so much better. His phone had been blowing up with so many notifications. Multiple messages from his friends back home, along with his parents, had been nothing less than supportive. 

However, one message caught his eye as he was going through the long list. He was surprised, but there was a warm, fuzzy feeling at the sight of your name. He knew that you were also having a hard time adjusting to everything. Except for the fact that you had won a race for Arrow a few weeks prior. Hell, he was even at your celebration party. But he remembered the looks on your team’s faces as you celebrated. 

One good word would be jealousy. 

And it wasn’t just your team: it was everyone. 

He sent you a quick text saying that he’d call you when he got back to his room. A fast “I’ll be waiting” brought the warm feelings back.

 He quickly walked through the hotel doors and into the elevator. It was going to be so nice when he could change into his sweatpants and t-shirt.

Logan mulled over the entire thing as he showered. 

He could have stayed home in Florida. He wasn’t needed here anyway. He could be in his childhood room, in his own comfy bed instead of the stuffy hotel room that he knew was smaller than the one that Alex got. He had seen the Thai’s pictures from Instagram and their rooms did not look the same. 

He quickly glanced in the mirror, just to see if his hair looked fine. He was thinking of growing it out, but hesitated to. He didn’t want to be made fun of even more than he already was. With a jump into the bed, he was ready. 

He sent you a quick text, only to be met with the FaceTime screen ready. He rolled his eyes, you had always been so impatient to talk to people. When he pressed the green button, he was met with a big smile and an oh so familiar and safe face. 

“Hi Logan.” 

How he missed your voice. You were always so soft spoken, but could yell at people if you needed to. He had been on the wrong side of your yell one too many times. But, he could listen to you for hours if he could. 

“Hello? Earth to Logan?” 

He quickly shook his head. 

“Hi Y/n,” he murmured, laying his head on his bicep as he just looked into the camera. You had a sad smile as you looked at the blonde. 

You could see his eyebags and his pale completion through the small screen. His red eyes signified that he probably cried when he took his shower (you knew because his hair was still soaked). 

You cleared your voice. “How are you holding up?” 

Logan’s shoulders only raised before dropping back down. 

“I’ve been better.” 

“Of course you have.” 

“Overheard that I’m not going to be resigned for next year.” 

A gasp echoed through the room before you sighed. Your hand ran through your hair. When you and Logan were little, people always mistook you for twins or very close siblings. That always annoyed you because you claimed that Logan was your boyfriend, not your brother. The moms and dads would just laugh. 

Looking back, you always wished you cherished those moments more than you had. The “relationship” only lasted for three days or until you saw Logan give Jessica his extra fruit roll up instead of you. After that, you claimed that you could only be his best friend since he didn’t love you as much as you loved him. You were over it as soon as you gave Michael your extra fruit roll up. 

You looked down at your fingers in your lap and bit your lip. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

You sighed again. “If it helps, I’m not getting resigned either.” 

Logan’s eyes widened as he scoffed. 

“That’s ridiculous. You have given them 1 out of their 2 wins this season.” 

“And Logan, you scored points as the first American in like 30 years. Nothing in motorsports is ever fair.” 

Logan leaned back, but kept his face visible. 

“Remember when we were kids? And we always said that we would make it to our dreams together?” 

A quiet hum sounded from his phone. 

“Have we made it yet?” 

Silence was his answer. 

“I don’t think we have.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Logan, is driving in a Williams really your dream?” 

The male thought for a moment. Did he accomplish his dream of getting and making it to Formula 1? To the outside world, yes, yes he did. He drove for an F1 team. He ‘made it’ even if it wasn’t the best. But is it really making it if you finished 21st in a 22 driver line up? 

No, that was not making it. That was barely getting by. 

“I guess my dream was just to show everyone that I could do it. That I’d be good at it. But, now I haven’t done that.” 

“Then why have you given up?” 

“Because everyone wants me to. No one has ever liked me for me.” 

“I do.” 

Logan inhaled sharply. He finally turned his head to see you looking right at him through the screen. He felt a tear run down his face. 

When had that gotten there? 

“Logan, listen to me.” 

A hum from him made you laugh. You guessed that’s what you were going to get out of him. 

“You have the talent, Williams saw that. They just couldn’t give you a car to maximize your potential. And who cares if no one likes you. You don’t have to make them like you, but at the same time you do. You can’t be green-eyed lady whisperer Charles Leclerc or World Champion Max Verstappen.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Y/n.” 

Your giggles filled the air. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

��Yeah, yeah, please continue about Charles’s green eyes.” 

“Dude I could write a whole biography on his eyes alone. But I don’t want to. I’d rather write a whole novel about yours.” 

What was that supposed to mean? 

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say Logan, is that you have to believe in yourself and show them that they need to like you because you are you. Say it with me please? Like you’re talking to a hater. ‘You must like me for me’.” 

Logan whispered back, trying to believe his words. 

“You must like me for me.” 

He shot up from the bed as soon as he said the words. 

“Isn’t that a Taylor Swift lyric?” 

His eyes narrowed at you through the phone. You only smirked back at him. 

“Quite possibly. Now, you are going to go to bed, sleep so well, and then keep smiling. Show them that they haven’t destroyed your spirit just yet.” 

Logan put his head on a pillow. 

“Oh, so they are going to destroy my spirit at some point.” 

“Yep!,” you popped the ‘p,’ “but not right now. That can come later.” 

He smiled dopily at you. 

“You’re the best you know? I know that I say that Oscar is my best friend, but it’s actually you.” 

A whine-like noise came from your throat. 

“You’re my best friend too. I’ll see you in a couple of months ok? Still have to beat Dalton at football this summer.” 

“You say that every year!” 

“Ok and?” 

“Goodnight Y/n.” 

“Night Logan. Sweet dreams.” 

You hung up the phone, leaving Logan alone in his little hotel apartment. He thought about what you had said. What’s the point in trying to make them believe in him anyway. They were going to throw him away like trash soon. 

But you were also right. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. He just needed to show them what he could do, and they could feel bad about it later. 

Logan set his alarms for the morning and got under the covers. 

He’d show them. 

His reputation has never been worse, so what’s a bit of fun until the end? 

logansargeant has posted

logansargeant if I didn't have a day job, I'd spend every moment listening to you, come visit me soon - your best friend

liked by georgerussell63, williamsracing, racer.y/n, and 493,206 others

logiebear oooooo girl in the pictures - have something to tell us mr. American 🤨

lolo2024 what they did to him this weekend was unfair

sargeant2 this was my first Grand Prix and I came from Spain just to watch him! I'm so sad that now I won't get to... :(

logansargeant hey! sorry about that - let me know what you're wearing and I'll try to find you, thank you for the support 💙

sargeant2 OH MY GOSH

racer.y/n I'll see you soon ok! sorry, my day job is also taking up all my time 🧡 *liked by logansargeant*

indyxf1 HELLO Y/N L/N??

log4_ever who is she?

indyxf1 so she like grew up grew up with Logan and she currently races for McLaren Arrow (their IndyCar entry) - she's won half of their races (1/2)

sarg4president they don't deserve you Logan!

loscar_812 I thought Oscar was your best friend hmmmm??

logan&y/n uhhhh haven't you seen that Oscar has been drifting since he's gotten closer with Lando??

loscar_812 oh. yeah. :(

billsracing and I thought williams was different - not them creeping in the likes 🙄

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora

[muldj0rd]

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh? || Loscar

Summary: “Loges” Oscar whined, his hand threaded in the blond locks below him

Logan leaned back, admiring his work before pulling the cap of the sharpie off, leaning back down

’Mine’ He wrote on top of the marks with thick letters with his signature below it

Warnings: Anal, anal fingering, jealous!Logan, possessive!Logan, top Logan, bottom Oscar, oblivious!Oscar, cum play

Masterlist || AO3

Logan was never jealous or possessive, and he never really cared if he’s potential partner had friends and stuff

That all changed when he started dating Oscar and saw *how flirty* Lando was towards his boyfriend

After he started dating Oscar, he was always jealous whenever the Aussie hang out with Lando

It wasn’t because Oscar was hanging out with Lando that made him jealous, it’s because Lando always flirted with him- and Oscar was absolutely oblivious to it

“You wanna grab some dinner tonight- without the team?” Logan didn’t stand close to Oscar and Lando, but close enough to hear Lando’s obvious flirting tone

“I would love to, but I’m going out with Logan tonight” Going out. Take the fucking hint, mate. Logan sighed as he kept listening

“Oh. We can hang out in my hotel room afterwards if you want to. Play some FIFA or what not” Lando suggested instead

“If I’m not too tired” Oscar smiled brightly like he always did

“Well, you can always crash in my room. Bed’s big enough” That was Logan’s last straw. It was obvious that Lando was gonna make a move on Oscar later- if Logan allowed him to go

Lando walked away, Oscar almost close to as well if Logan hasn’t grabbed his upper arm tightly, pulling him close

“You’re gonna go to my hotel room the moment you’re done. No going to your own, not Lando’s. Mine. You got that?” Logan growled low in Oscar’s ear

“Yes” Oscar whimpered quietly, his arm hurting under Logan’s harsh grip “What’d I do?” He whispered

“Nothing, baby” Logan loosens his grip, soothing his thumb over the spot, smiling softly

---

“I’m sorry” Oscar apologised as Logan kissed him possessively, pushing him towards the bed, even though he didn’t know what he did

“It’s not your fault, baby” Logan growled low, lowering Oscar onto the mattress

“What happened?” Oscar whimpered as Logan’s lips traced down his neck, sucking various marks

“You ask too many questions” Logan groaned, pulling Oscar’s shirt over his head, his lips immediately at the Aussie’s nipples, his mouth now occupied by moans instead of questions

“Get the lube for me, baby” Logan said as he lowered his body, pulling down Oscar’s jeans and briefs in one go, leaving him completely naked

Logan chuckled softly at the whimper leaving Oscar’s lips as he lubed up his fingers, warming it up

Oscar moaned softly when Logan circled his hole. He whined when Logan pushed in a finger, his body leaning over his, the other hand keeping the American’s body up to not crush Oscar

Logan slowly moved his finger, mesmerised by the way Oscar’s lips were slightly parted, panting heavy breaths, his eyes closed tightly

Logan pushed in a second finger when Oscar was loose enough, making him moan softly, his back arching off of the bed

“Baby, look at me” Logan said softly, Oscar immediately opening his eyes “There’s my beautiful boy” Logan chuckled softly at the deep red that spread through Oscar’s body

Logan managed to get Oscar stretched around four fingers before pulling out of him, Oscar’s cock leaking like an open faucet onto his stomach

Logan stood up from the bed, pulling his own shirt over his head and pushing his jeans and briefs down his legs

Logan forced Oscar’s legs apart again before settling between them, pouring lube onto his cock, giving himself a few firm strokes

He didn’t warn Oscar when he pushed inside him, pushing all the way, holding onto his pale hips with a forceful grip

“Logan!” Oscar moaned from the suddenness, his back arching off the bed, nails digging into Logan’s biceps, leaving marks behind

“You’re only mine, right? Nobody else’s” Logan groaned, his thrusts forceful along with his grip

“W-why… Ah- why would I be anybody else’s?” Oscar moaned, already feeling himself close, and Logan was nowhere near his prostate

“Just answer the fucking question, Oscar” If Logan wasn’t so deep inside Oscar, his hips slamming against his ass, he would’ve flinched at Logan’s harsh tone and the use of his name- which he never did

“Only yours- fuck. Only yours- always yours. Nobody else’s” He moaned, feeling the bruises forming on his hips near his thighs

“Only mine” Logan moaned softly, feeling Oscar clench down around him as he neared his orgasm

“Loges… Please” Oscar whined, which was quickly replaced my loud moans when Logan angled his hips, pounding into Oscar’s prostate, his hand going around his cock, stroking him fast and hard

Oscar quickly came, his body shaking from the force of it, his hole clenching down around Logan hard, drawing him closer as well

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Logan moaned as he stilled his hips, coming deep inside Oscar, his hand stopped moving as well

“Lay still for me, baby?” Logan asked softly, wiping his hand clean on Oscar thigh, slowly pulling out of him

Logan watched Oscar panting heavily as he went to the floor, getting Oscar’s phone from his pants and a sharpie from the bedside table

“What’cha doing?” Oscar asked confused, his words slurred together

“Just lay and look pretty for me” Logan smiled softly, leaning down to suck onto Oscar’s inner thigh in several places

“Loges” Oscar whined, his hand threaded in the blond locks below him

Logan leaned back, admiring his work before pulling the cap of the sharpie off, leaning back down

’Mine’ He wrote on top of the marks with thick letters with his signature below it

He put the cap back on. Oscar whined when Logan’s fingers made contact with his hole, gathering some of the cum leaking out of him

He smeared the white liquid around the letters, Oscar whimpered softly again “Don’t worry, baby. I’m done soon”

Logan took Oscar’s phone, unlocking it and finding Lando’s contacts. Logan made sure to capture the finger marks on Oscar’s hip, but making sure not to get anything that was only for the blond’s eyes

Oscar [1 attachment] He won’t make it after dinner 🤗

Lando saw it. Didn’t answer

“Shower?” Logan asked softly

“What’d you do?” Oscar panted, holding onto Logan as he helped him up

“Nothing” He smirked softly, helping him into the shower

[dear-ao3]

Can I ask for a translation on what happened in Vegas?

what didnt happen in vegas!

-carlos sainz ran over a drain cover that was not welded down 9 minutes into the first practice session. it ripped a hole through his car basically (he narrowly avoided getting royally and permanently fucked up by it) and he got a 10 place grid penalty for fixing said car

-toto wolff, the mercedes team principle, said very emphatically that carlos deserved this penalty. carlos did not in fact deserve this penalty because it was not remotely his fault.

-probably out of spite, carlos managed to finish the race above both mercedes cars

-back to practice 1, it was redflagged 9 minutes in after he crashed and it took nearly 7.5 hours for them to fix the track because they had to check all the other drain covers

-practice was already late to begin with and reportedly at 1am ish they kicked all the fans out who had bought tickets because it was "too late"

-tickets btw were over 1k USD

-practice two started sometime around 2am and didnt finish until nearly 4am

-yes, people were driving cars at over 200mph at 2 in the morning, jetlagged to hell and back. idc if you're a professional, that sounds dangerous

-the announcers were descending into madness the whole time and during practice two i think tried to talk about oceans 11 but fucked it up

-there was also the sphere. the sphere was relatively unhinged.

-the drivers didnt get back to their hotels until after the sun rose that day. and they had to race again that night

-oh also it was fucking freezing and when its freezing the cars don't work cause the tires don't warm up and the brakes don't warm up

-tires also warm up best on corners, high speed ones. the vegas track had mostly all low speed corners and really long straights. not ideal

-the pit lane exit was also smack in the middle of a really tight turn. which they would be exiting onto on cold tires with cold brakes.

-also the track looked like an upside down pig

-practice three was normal until the very end when alex albon crashed into the wall. no one was allowed to do practice starts because the session was red flagged and not resumed.

-the most notable thing to happen at qualifying was that both williams cars (which are basically tractors) managed to place p5 and p6 on the grid. especially interesting considering that logan sergeant has placed dead last in qualifying for the last several races.

-also both mclarens were at the bottom. this is not super relevant or particularly interesting but i was upset about it.

-ferrari went p1 (charles leclerc) and p2 (carlos sainz), but sainz had a 10 place grid penalty for fixing his car that had a literal hole through the bottom, so he started p12.

-weirdly, sir lewis hamilton and checo perez also started pretty far down the grid.

-anyway onto the race.

-there were so many safety cars. literally on the first lap the whole back half of the grid rammed into each other.

-then! terrifyingly! lando norris ran over a bump in the track on lap 3 or 4 i don't remember and spun several times before ramming into the wall. he sounded not ok on his radio but he got out of the car. eventually they ended up taking him to the hospital, he is quite fine but it was still a terrible crash

-his teammate, oscar piastri, seemly got possessed by someone or something, possibly lando himself, because he had a very impressive race until mclaren decided to use the worst tire strategy possible (as in, pit him in the last 10 laps to change his tires when this was largely avoidable by all accounts). he could have ended on the podium potentially if they hadn't fucked him up. still, he ended 10th and got the fastest lap and as a result the track record.

-there was also another episode of French Civil War at alpine when they told esteban ocon to stay behind his teammate, pierre gasley, and he said no !! and passed him for funzies

-charles leclerc also got possessed by something, possibly his own bad luck, because he managed to finish p2 after overtaking checo perez on the last lap.

-the same checo perez whos f1 career has been basically dead for half the season

-also lance stroll weirdly slayed

-despite starting high on the grid, both williams managed to finish out of the points

-surprisingly there were only 3 DNFs and 0 red flags

-this is surprising because of all the tire and brake issues that people thought there would be

-unsurprisingly max verstappen won. what was surprising was that he sang viva las vegas over his radio afterwards, especially surprising considering that he spent the whole weekend shitting on the race, saying that the track was terrible, he hated it, and that the fans should burn the place down for getting kicked out on practice 1 day and only getting a voucher in response

-related to that, the fans sued f1 over getting kicked out

-someone thought it was a good idea to put max charles and checo in the back of a rolls and film them driving to the podium. it was incredibly memey.

-there was definitely more that happened but this is all i can remember right now

[lunararcade]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F1 DR INTRO

important info: in this dr i am 17. it is the 2018 f1 season and i am racing alongside lewis hamilton for the mercedes-amg petronas f1 team. it is my first year in f1.

what is my racing history? i have been karting ever since i was 7 years old (2008). i started with regional championships and won before winning nationally. i won some championships internationally as well. i didn't have a lot of money but my parents helped me to achieve my dreams, especially since i was really good at it. i began racing around the world with ricky flynn motorsports. i won multiple WSK world and european series. i raced in these circuits until 2015 when i won the CIK-FIA Euro championship and 2016 when i won the CIK-FIA world championship with Birel ART Racing. i was hired by prema racing to drive as an f2 driver in 2017, and became world champion by the end of the season. after this i was hired by mercedes on a lucrative, one-year contract.

who are my friends? my closest friend is my best friend charles leclerc, who was my teammate at prema. me and him had a title fight in 2017. i am very close with his family <3 love them dearly. i am also close with his brother arthur! we met through charles and karting. my other closest friend is logan sargeant. he has been my best friend for years. we grew up karting together since my first year and remained super close as we both started karting in europe. i also competed against oscar piastri for a while and he is a good friend of me and logan. i am also friends with lewis hamilton as he is my teammate at mercedes. i am acquanited and friendly with max verstappen as we raced against each other in karting quite a few times. i know a lot of the other f1 racers from karting actually (:

any romantic relationships? no! i don't have any current romantic relationships.

what is currently happening? i had been getting podium since the start of the season, breaking multiple records not only as a woman but as the youngest f1 driver. however, at the canada grand prix, i won with a grand slam (fastest lap, pole position, first place). i also won in france and austria. i am doing extremely well!

any current conflicts? yes. multiple. mercedes has not been a good working environment. lewis is great, but i am not taken very seriously in the garage. i am also told not to overtake lewis even when i have openings and the next driver is multiple seconds behind. i have recently taken to ignoring these orders because they're stupid which has caused a lot of problems with toto wolff.

toto also ignored my complaints during monaco. i told him i had very little control over the car and something was off during qualifying, but he didn't listen and i had to drive at the race with little control over the car. it cost me a podium and i got p4. he also yelled at me after i won in canada because it was at the price of lewis getting p2, which is awful! but i am looking into new potential contracts for 2019 (redbull is looking promising if daniel leaves, which he will).

i am also nervous for my 10th race of the season which is silverstone, because i crashed there (not my fault at all) during my 2017 season in f2. it was pretty bad. the car exploded with me inside and i was concussed, but not majorly injured. charles also crashed a bit further ahead and ran to help me get out. however, i think this next race will be fine.

if you have any questions about this dr please feel free to ask. even though the circumstances have been a bit iffy right now, i really like all of the people and have been enjoying the racing so i'll be sharing plenty of stories!

[imagineofallkindsxxx]

Chapter One - Celebrations (Stewy Hosseini x OC!Roy)

Summary: Dr Lauren Roy couldn't care less about the empire her father created. She was happy being an ED doctor until something happened on Logan Roys birthday

11 months after starting at Bellevue Hospital 

A car crash. That's how I would describe my childhood and adolescence but today it was in a more literal sense. 

"23 year old female car collision, stab wound to the abdomen, possible internal bleeding" a paramedic barges through and informs the doctors, myself included. I point them towards the resus area where I can have a better look to see what I am dealing with just before I hear another paramedic arguing with a patient and her partner informing other doctors of his status. 

"34 year old male, passenger in car collision in back seat. Doesn't seem to have any obvious or severe injuries but possible concussion." After hearing argument from behind him about 'being fucking capable' he added "not a fan of hospitals… or people. Good luck" 

"Fantastic. Thanks Jay" I say as the duo leave the hospital. “Lewis,” I shout on the first year resident, first shift best to baptise by fire, “can you treat male in bay 5 possible concussion. Hannah how's our stab wound patient?" Walking over to Hannah Williams my best friend in this place and fellow physician. 

"X-ray and ultrasound show she's bleeding into her left lung." She informed me on the status of the poor young girl. 

"OK we'll need to cut into her lung, Sofia can you give her 5 milligrams of morphine?" As Hannah hands me a scalpel. I cut into her side putting a chest tube in to ensure the blood is no longer in her lung. "Get her to the OR now"  I say to the porters who were on their way to take her to the operating theatre 

“Dr Roy” I hear as I walk out the doors checking my phone to see 5 missed calls from Shiv and 10 messages from Roman. The young resident getting my attention. "Yes, Dr Hamilton," I said trying my best not to get irritated at the new physician, not his fault it is my dearest father's 80th birthday which I am thankfully late for but sure my siblings will not agree. “The patient with a concussion. He's asking to be treated by you” I look at the clock I have five minutes of my shift left sure I can tell an asshole that he's fine take some paracetomal and fuck off. But as I look up I genuinely contemplate grabbing a scalpel and slitting my wrist with it. I nod to Ethan telling him it's fine I'll deal with him grabbing discharge papers as I do so. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“'Wow Laurey have to work on your bedside manner” 

“Shut the fuck up, why are you making my residents life hell? Just sign the fucking papers Stewy" 

"Aww can't italk to my favourite Roy?" He said condescendingly to which I just glare back 

''Thought that was Kendall. Well from what iheard from your college days he was” he laughed

'You jealous?' 

that caused me to roll my eyes. A thing that happens regularly when business bros are in my vicinity “oh and the girl is most likely going to be fine by the way. Not that you'd care, too busy thinking about ways to sue her for crashing precious Mercedes.' Now was his turn to roll his eyes 

“it was a Ferrari actually” Making me roll my eyes “Thought you had a special get together with daddy dearest? Or are you 'busy' again?" Oh what a fucking shock, changing the subject. Some things never change I suppose. 

“I'm supposed to be but instead I'm trying to get some prick to sign discharge papers and get out my ED.” He laughed at that knowing I'm in no rush when he saw me decline a call from Marcia. 

‘Calm the fuck down sure your rushing to get there” I once again roll my eyes and just three papers down walking away shouting over my shoulder 

“Just sign the fucking papers” before rushing to the staff shower room. 

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

I get out of the taxi as my car is in the shop once again just outside my father's building walking in the doorman nodding at me before stepping into an old fashioned elevator. Heart racing as I go up. Last time I saw my family together was nearly a year ago. I love my siblings, me and Roman chat regularly and I meet Shiv every second Tuesday for drinks, usually just her bitching about the family or her job... or her boyfriend really her life which is ironic for a daughter of a billionaire. She is the definition of first world problems. I think Shiv doesn't think of me as a threat and a sort of fucking therapist for her to be honest. I just wish we grew up like that instead of having such an intense rivalry until I came back to New York. 

The doors open to show the majority of my family as well as others I am not so familiar with. No dad or Kendall. What a shame. 

Marcia intercepts me at the door welcoming me in from the harsh cold to the lovely and fake warmth of their apartment. she always seemed most fond of me out of my siblings, suppose it may be because iactually respect her but who knows might be a coincidence.  

“Oh look. The black sheep finally graces her with her presence” roman says to which I roll my eyes at as he pulls me in for a very awkward hug “ew why do you smell like dead people” 

I pulled back right away "I don't smell like dead people. How do you know what dead people smell like” 

“I mean I don't but your what I expect dead people smell like.” 

"You’re a disgrace to society" 

"What every twin wants to hear" 

"Shut the fuck up" 

"You shut the fuck up, you whore"

"Prick" 

“Will you both stop” I hear, Connor split the two of us up. I turn around and he gives me a small smile. “How have you been, Laur?”

'I'm good Con, been busy with work and stuff but just getting on with it.” binning off any other aspects of my life, as if there are any. Then I see next to my eldest sibling, a younger very pretty girl “Who's this?” I ask. 

“This is Willa. She's sort of my date for tonight.” Willa gave a small wave to which I smiled in greeting “lovely to meet you Willa. I'm going to get a drink. See you around.” igrabbed a champagne flute and looked around seeing that almost everyone had everyone with them, even Connor had a fucking escort but no way in hell would I bring anyone to a family affair, like bring a lamb to slaughter. I checked my phone praying that there was an emergency and didn't have to face this delightful dinner that chefs who will get not recognition made us but alas no messages or miscalls. 

“Quiet. Get into a spot. Logan is here” Marcia informs us 

“We're surprising him?” I asked anyone near 

“Last time isurprised him he fucking decked me” Rome added to which majority of people ignored only few knowing first hand the pain Roman and myself went through. I just managed to break free of the toxicity, Roman did not.

When the doors of the elevator opened to show Logan he looked surprised and put on a fake smile as all the party guests gave him his presents. You could tell it was faked if you looked close enough.

Connor proceeded to give dad bread goo? When asked the question most were thinking he said it's the basic recipe for sourdough bread. Does he even eat sourdough? It was then time for me to give him my gift.

“Know you have a million of them but here you go. Happy birthday dad.” giving him an engraved watch and a small cupcake I made earlier that day. He looks at me and the watch. Then pulls me in for an extremely awkward hug.

“Thanks for coming Lauren.” he says with all seriousness “I really appreciate it”. I look past him to see Shiv lipsing 'what the actual fuck' to which she shrugged her shoulder. When he broke away the elevator doors opened again showing Kendall this time, my father having a disappointed look in his eye when he saw the second eldest child. As I went to take another drink of my champagne I realised I was empty. I looked around for a very underpaid waiter to see Tom standing to my left handing me a glass.

“Thanks Tom” I say with borderline distaste, after everything I have heard from Shiv wouldn't be shocked if he starts on chatting business with me

“No problem for my favourite sister in law” to which I side glance but  before I could reply to the partner of my only sister Logan had reappeared with Kendall and told all the children to meet him in the side room. I certainly will need my champagne for whatever bullshit that is about to occur.

Checking my phone, praying for one last miracle iwalked through the door following the rest of my siblings. Rome teasing Connor for his bread making tactics 

“Yeah sure he can let it rise when he's doing his yoga.” My twin quips to our eldest sibling. Logan then enters the room shutting the doors behind him. 

"What's this all about Pa?" Connor questions the patriarch of the family 

"it's about the family trust." He began grabbing all of our attention mostly out of curiosity on my part "it will divide the succession in the event of my unlikely demise. i'm going to add Marcia to myself, and you five" I let out a laugh oh the shit show this is going to cause.  

"And my seat also to go to her on my death --" even I stood up at that point thinking that this idea was fucking dreadful and I only understood about half of what is going on. 

"Whoa? Okay?" Shiv questions looking at me with her "what the fuck is going on' look

"Which would give her double weight?" I say not 100 percent sure if I was understanding all of this correctly

"Uh-huh. So I've got the paperwork for you-" 

“Wait wait wait... so Marcia will have two vote when you -" Kendall says,confirming it for not just himselves but those around him also the worry being shown in all our faces

“If" Roman tries to correct, obviously avoiding thinking of the inevitable. 

"No Rome. When" Connor tells him 

"Well excuse him if he doesn't want to think of our father's death" I stand up for him leaning against the wall as Rome sits properly on the chair he was once sitting upside-down  on 

"Well it not really about what we want" Connor snacks back 

"Kendall has already signed" but the look on his face told a completely different story.

"Two votes? I wasn't really made aware-'' Kendall tried to defend himself failing spectacularly

"Read the small print asshole." Roman bitched back, logan handed out a bunch of papers out to the five of us to ensure we read and had a copy of the contract 

While all were glancing through it Shiv said "I mean this looks... I’m going to have to get my lawyer to look over all this just for all the implications"

"Sure, take a beat." He replies making it seem as if we have a choice "right look. I love the bread goo... but this is what I really want." staring us down with his determined yet 'I’m doing you a favour' look as he went on to say “so until four? Good." walking towards the door as if he was about to leave until he turned back around as if he remembered something “oh and I also mentioned to Kendall. Despite the chatter and all things considered, I'm  going to give it a couple years" I look around the room in confusion 

"as in?" I questioned my father 

"I'll stay in situ as chairman. CEO. Head of the firm '' that not only made Kendall raise his eyebrows as if this was new to him but also made me take a sip of my drink as if I was at the cinema watching  a movie eating popcorn. Roy events are always like this when you have fuck all to do with the business. I glance towards my twin giving him a questioning look where he just shrugs his shoulders as if saying 'fuck if he knows."

"Wait what?" Kendall stutters out  confused by this new development. 

"Son it doesn't matter we can announce your in pole position, pending events, moving up whatever." Me and Roman once again make eye contact with him whispering to me 'wow' and trying to hold back a laugh at the look  of anger and despair on my second eldest brother's face. "Come on, let's go and eat" before the dad of the five  siblings walks out of the room. 

"Ok can I just start by asking: What the actual fuck?" I started as soon as he was gone looking around at my brothers and sister letting out a surprised laugh 

"Fuck" Roman breathes out trying not to laugh also, covering his mouth in the process. 

"What are you laughing at?" Kendall accuses us both as we both try to stop looking so amused by the look on our brother's face. 

"We're not even laughing" Roman says while covering his mouth to quiet down as I took a drink to swallow any giggles. 

"He's going to lose all credibility of the firm" Kendall dismisses us talking to the entire group as though me and Connor could give a shit. Connor only cares about his allowance to pay his hooker. We couldn't care less "Does he look okay to you?" Kendall continues acting as if he had a fuck about dads health in any capacity. 

"C'mon, Ken. This is typical, its dad" Shiv tells our brother insinuating that he is a twisted fuck who ruins any of his childrens slightest chance of happiness or achievement. 

"I'm out. I’m not playing. Whatever you guys decide I'm going with but I’m out" our eldest brother says walking out the doors to the main part of the apartment. "On the trust I refuse to play. I'm water, I flow." My eyebrows raise at that analogy but to be fair to him I'm on the same wavelength. 

"Yeah, I'm same as Con. Rome pick for me and I'll sign'' throwing my papers down next to my brother and walking out the room hearing im curse me 

"Choose you fucking self, fuck face" 

As I shut the door I bump into a tall sort of scrawny looking guy 

"Jesus Christ" nearly falling on my ass trying to avoid him

"I am so sorry!" he exclaimed apologetically "I should have been looking where I was going. I'm sorry." the boy in front of me managed to stutter out. I took pity on the poor boy couldn't be younger than 28 

"It's fine. Don't worry about it" giving him a small smile before carrying on before he took that as an opportunity to continue the conversation.

"I'm Greg. I'm Logan's brother's grandson." he explained his connection to the family 

"Cool, uh, I’m Lauren. Logan's daughter" unsure on how to carry on with this conversation Marcia comes to the rescue telling us it's time for lunch. Maybe I should sign those papers after all. 

Kendall barges through to the dining hall before we have a chance to go through. You could hear the arguing through the door, Greg beside me questions 

"Uh, does this happen a lot?" 

"You mean the chaos, arguing and fucking each other over? Every time we meet." I give him a wide smile as the doors open "Welcome to the family" 

We all sit down to our places, putting myself next to Roman chatting along with him about some bullshit side quest he's doing now. Think it was something to do with fashion which makes no sense as I’m pretty sure Grace fucking dresses him. Then someone speaks out to Marcia 

"Marcia this is delicious".

 I muttered to Rome “As if she fucking made it” rolling my eyes as he smirked when Shiv began to compliment the day and how thoughtful it has been through grated teeth im sure. 

"You suck up" he muttered to Shiv making me cough down a laugh 

Frank starts to do a speech about Dundee and Quebec but to be honest I wasn't listening to a word he said. It’s Frank , how interesting can it be? I only realised it was a toast when everyone raised there glass to which I followed suit

“I think it's time to play the game." this causes a range of emotions from annoyance, to excitement to confusion (in Gregs case)

We arrive at the helicopters and get in Shiv and Kendall looking over the papers and shaking their heads like what the actual fuck? No.

We arrive at a field with a tent full of well needed drinks. I genuinely don't think I drink as much when it comes to family functions. 

I see Shiv and Kendall and Roman chatting by the helicopters right before the game is about to start. I walk up to them slowly

"Hey, what's happening? Are we deciding our stance on this?"

"Ken here is suggesting giving up politics and join a co presidency where I would be working under him" 

"Ah yes, lose you upscale politics work for working for our elder brother who owns shit from what I recall"

"Shut the fuck up Lauren. Don't you have to be giving someone a band aid or whatever the fuck you do?"

"Hey don't start that shit with her-" Rome started defending 

"Fuck you Kendall. Dads right not to leave company to you. Your nothing but a sad little boy angry he didn't get the toy he wanted." glaring at him before walking as far away as possible from that absolute prick of a brother. Not before hearing 

"She's got a point to be fair" from Shiv

At the start of the game Shiv throws the ball for  Ken to bat but his phone rings before he can run. 

"sorry I gotta take this" turning away from the game and inevitably leaving so that means we were down a player. Then Roman being Roman caught a little kid because that's what Roman does. 

"Hey you, kid. I will give you a million dollars if you do  home run," writing a check as he's doing so

"Rome don't be a dick" I snarked, feeling bad for the poor child. 

"What? It's a little incentive" which I just rolled my eyes at. 

When Shiv throws the ball the kid hits it quite well, passes one station, second, third but just before he could hit last base Tom put him  out. "Sorry kid, you were so close. so damn close." and ripped up the check he just wrote. 

"Prick '' I muttered before walking past him to the kid and his family taking off my necklace in the meantime just as Colin carried over the watch Tom bought him and a couple pieces of paper. NDAs. they probably carry them everywhere. 

"I can only apologise for my brother and his behaviour today." I began the apology on my brother's behalf as it seems like I have been doing the majority of my life. 

"He shouldn't have disrespected you like that. I am so sorry. Please take these gifts in reparations." I added hearing Colin next to me

"Hi, I'm Colin and I work for the Roy family. The Roy family would rather keep this quiet so if you could sign these" Collin adds, forcing me to look down so this poor family doesn't see the disdain I have for this type of activity. Roys have to keep family close. 

I went to Shiv getting into the helicopter with her, Rome, dad and Connor, knowing there will probably be some sort of argument that day.

"Officially the deadline has passed so what's the decision kids." Our dad asks us, looking at Roman. Although I may not like him right now I would trust him to make the right decision for us. 

"What's the Frank situation?" Rome asks, I look at Con confused to which he shrugged his shoulders. 

"Franks gone. Franks dead. Toms stepping up and Shivs thinking of taking a new role." I'm not going to lie, I was getting more and more shocked as he went on. Roman and Shiv looked at one another asking what they think with their eyes

"Shiv." Rome looks at her, 

"Rome" she replies with the same look and attitude in her voice

"Laur" 

"I don’t give a fuck what Rome says, isay." I tell dad directly, Connor nodding his head in agreement. 

"Our position is that this doesn't quite work for us. At present." Shiv says to our father letting him know the decision we had made was no way in hell. Ever. Just in a more professional term.

"It's not sufficiently attractive as a proposition" Roman added 

"Basically we don't want to sign because it doesn't benefit us in any way." I added my piece. Fuck knows if I’m right.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

"No, why would we want to give up power?" Shiv points out before our father starts mumbling things and making no sense while Shiv and Rome still spoke over. 

"Dad? Are you ok?"

Causing the bickering to stop and questioning our dad is ok. I yell to the pilot to take us to the nearest fucking hospital just as he collapses in to connors lap 

"How does he feel, Con? is he hot?" 

"Hes burning up" 

"We need to get to a hospital now" 

"Why? What is it?" Shiv asks frantically

"I don't fucking know Shiv, I'm a doctor not a fucking magician. Could be a stroke, or haemorrhage. We need to get to a hospital five minutes ago!" As we began to land at the nearest hospital, my hospital I yelled out. 

"Logan Roy, 80 year old male, collapsed after a stressful conversation but could possibly have a brain haemorrhage. We need Dr Abrams right now." 

"Dr Roy, Dr Roy. Lauren!" someone interrupted as I was shouting out orders. It was the young resident, Lewis. "We've got him" as they rushed my father down the hallway leaving me helpless with my siblings. the place I felt the most useful, I have never felt so useless. 

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

A/N: This is probably tragic writing compared to other brilliant writers who do the Roys justice, especially Shiv, but I just imagine dodgy childhood with her but mature and have a slight sisterhood but obviously is much closer to Roman as twin. Ages are off probs but its a fanfic it doesn't matter. 

[trashyswitch]

Exchanging Favors

Roman is welled up with artists block, while Logan is filled with touch-starvation. So, they look to the other for help.

I AM! BACK, BABY! I'm finally getting the excitement out of writing again! WOO! Let's goooo! Hope you all enjoy my story!

Roman was sitting in his room, holding a pencil in his right hand and holding down a paper with his left hand. He was trying to come up with something to draw, write, or generally come up with. But…He just…couldn’t. Nothing was inspiring him to write or draw. He kept placing the pencil onto the paper…and removing it. The lead would touch the paper…and would be removed. He just didn’t know how to spontaneously come up with something creative. It was like telling a double amputee to walk on prosthetic legs. It just can’t be done without some time and practice.

Roman soon threw his pencil across the room, crumpled up the paper and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. But paper being paper, it only lightly bounced off the wall and floated to the ground. This wasn’t satisfying enough. He needed more! MORE!

Roman picked up his desk, carried it out of his room and threw the desk as hard as he could out the door. Roman stared at the desk as it crashed into pieces out on the lawn. He huffed and puffed as the pieces of his desk crumpled into a scattered pile of wood on the front lawn. He stared at the wooden desk for a little longer, before turning around to head back to his room.

“Strange seeing you here.” A face in front of Roman had said.

Roman jumped a good 5 feet into the air and held his chest as he huffed even more, staring at the person in front of him with fear. “You scared me!”

The person who happened to have glasses, removed them and cleaned the lens with his shirt. “I apologize for giving you a fright, Roman.” The person told him.

Roman was finally able to register who this was. The glasses, tie and collared t-shirt gave it away.

“It’s…okay, Logan.” Roman replied.

Logan titled his head as he saw a big pile of brown on the lawn. “Mind if I ask why there is a broken desk out on the front lawn?” Logan asked.

Roman’s anger began to subside from both the previous satisfaction of throwing the desk, and now Logan’s soft voice.

“Well…that was my fault.” Roman explained.

“Ah…I see. Might I ask what you did?” Logan asked.

Roman sighed as he looked down and started playing with his own 10 fingers. “I threw the- I got angry at the desk because I couldn’t draw or write anything good.” Roman explained.

Logan nodded. “I see. While I would like to say that experiencing a creativity block is not your fault…I would also like to say that your creative block is not the desk’s fault either.” Logan explained.

Roman held his arm as he nodded. “I know…But I felt a strong urge to throw something! I was angry!” Roman explained.

“But does throwing and breaking something solve your creative block?” Logan asked.

Roman huffed and crossed his arms as he looked down with an angry look. “...No.” He spat out.

“Hm…I am sensing your anger now.” Logan mentioned. “Perhaps I could help you get over your anger- handle it, if you will.” Logan offered.

Roman looked up at Logan with a softened expression. “Would you?” Roman asked.

Logan smiled proudly and snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the room changed into a full concrete room, with sledgehammers, weapons and broken items sprawled about. Furthermore, Roman and Logan were in white suits with safety glasses on their eyes and red headphones on their heads.

Roman smiled as he immediately recognized what this was and specifically, what this room was inspired by:

“I suppose you’ve seen the internet series Unus Annus?” Logan asked. “Um- YES!” Roman replied, before repeating the ‘Unus Annus’ theme chant at the beginning of every video.

Logan couldn’t help but smile as Roman did the chant. “I am giving you a room to break all the items you want to. Most weapons are at your disposal. The only items that we discarded from this room were guns.” Logan explained.

Roman looked completely hyped up and ready to break all the things. “Can I break things now? Now?! NOW?!” Roman asked.

Logan let out a chuckle. “Yes, you may break away.” Logan replied.

“YESS!” Roman cheered as he grabbed the metal baseball bat first. “HULK SMASH!” Roman shouted as he swung at a nearby computer monitor. The computer monitor’s glass front broke, and the rest of the tv screen went flying into the concrete wall.

Roman started completely destroying as much of the items as he could. The printer was in ruin, the glass table was shattered into bits, the plates were yeeted against the wall, and the baseball bat was split in half. There was even a golf club with a big hole in one side. It was pretty funny.

Roman soon rested his body on a yoga mat and huffed loudly. He was exhausted.

“Feeling better now?” Logan asked.

Roman was still huffing and puffing, so he gave him a nod in response.

Logan smiled a little. “Alright. Would you like to go back?” Logan asked.

Roman nodded again. “Sure.” Roman replied.

And with a snap of the hand, they were back home in Roman’s room. Roman immediately laid himself onto his own bed and smiled. He felt so much better after destroying things in that concrete room. But there was still something that Roman wanted to do:

“Hey Logan,” Roman called.

Logan looked at Roman. “Yes?”

Roman sat up. “I want to do something to thank you for helping me.” Roman explained.

Logan blinked in surprise. “But…you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” Logan told him.

Roman got up onto his feet. “I want to!” Roman declared, showing excitement.

Logan smiled a little and started to blush a little. “Well…” Logan thought for a moment. “There is something I wouldn’t mind us doing.” Logan admitted.

Roman turned his head so his right ear would get most of the sound.

Logan cleared his throat awkwardly. “There…is a type of play…that I haven’t really experienced before.” Logan admitted.

Roman gasped and held his own cheeks with his hands. “Really?! Tell me, tell me, tell me!” Roman begged.

Logan sighed. “I think it’s better if I show you.” Logan replied.

Roman smiled and waited for him to show him.

Logan walked up to Roman with his hands rubbing together nervously. He knelt down beside Roman and started gently squeezing Roman’s side. Roman’s reaction was immediate: He started giggling and falling to the side to stop the hand from tickling.

“HEhehehey! Hehehehehehe! Ihihihit tihihihicklehes!” Roman giggled, rolling onto his back as he struggled to get away from the evil hand.

Logan bit his lip with a smile. “That’s what I was trying to convey…” Logan admitted before letting go of Roman.

Roman went limp for only a little bit, and looked at Logan. “So…Yohou wanna be tickled?” Roman asked.

Logan blushed a little harder at the question. He looked down with a small, embarrassed smile on his face. “Yeah…” Logan replied.

Roman giggled as he got up onto his knees, and scooted himself closer to Logan. “Why, I’d love to be your tickle monster!” Roman declared.

Beyond all odds, Logan’s cheeks grew even more red than before. But amidst the blushing, Logan opened his arms and allowed him to strike.

Taking some inspiration from Logan himself, Roman started by squeezing both of Logan’s sides. Logan immediately widened his eyes and grew a wobbly, cute little smile onto his face. “Ohoho bohohoy- Hahahahahaha! Ihit’s soooo weihihird!” Logan told him as he laughed.

Roman giggled at this. “I know, right?! It’s the weirdest feeling!” Roman replied. “It makes you all giddy and happy too!” Roman added.

Logan reached down and grabbed Roman’s wrists as he doubled over with laughter. “HAHAhahahaha! AAAHAhahaha!” Logan lifted his body up, let go of Roman’s wrists and placed his inner fists onto his own chin. “EEEEEHEHEHE!” Logan laughed and giggled, shaking his head wildly.

“Wow! All this from some squeezes on the side? How cute!” Roman teased.

Logan’s blush, by some weird miracle, started darkening into a more scarlet purple color. “IHIHI’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Logan yelled back.

“Awww, denying it too? How predictable! And cute at the same time!” Roman teased further.

Logan dropped his hands down and leaned back into Roman’s chest. “IHIHI CAHAHAHAN’T!” Logan laughed. “Can’t what, Logan? What can’t you do?” Roman asked. “HAHANDLE IHIHIT!” Logan replied. “Oooooh, you can’t HAND-le it?” Roman asked as he showed Logan one of his hands. “Get it? Because I’m tickling you with my HANDS?” Roman added. Logan verbally groaned at the terrible pun, and whined as well. “Thahahat wahahas awwwfuhuhul.” Logan complained.

“Sorry to hear it didn’t TICKLE your fancy.” Roman teased. Logan fell to one side and covered his face with his own hands. “Stahahahap!” Logan ordered through his hands. “Naaah…How about I tickle this tummy wummy of yours? How does that sound?” Roman asked, wiggling his fingers at him.

Logan uncovered his eyes for just a second…then squeaked and covered them up again. How DARE Roman be so good at this! AAAH!

Roman brought his hands up to Logan’s belly and started squeezing and skittering his fingers all over it. Logan wheezed and rocked his body left and right as he giggled happily.

“Wow! Is someone enjoying this?” Roman asked.

Logan uncovered one of his eyes with his fingers and looked down slightly before nodding.

Roman paused, clapped his hands and cheered. “Yay! I’m so happy you’re enjoying this!” Roman declared.

Logan just giggled more and shook his head. “Cohohome ohohon, Rohoman…Cahahan’t you just tickle me without saying anything?” Logan asked.

Roman blinked in surprise. “Really? Okay. I can do that.” Roman replied.

Roman started tickling his belly and belly button with both of his fingers while keeping his mouth shut. The only thing he was showing Logan was a cute little smile.

Logan giggled and laughed through the whole thing. The only thing filling the room was Logan’s laughter and Roman’s slight finger brushes as he tickled. Logan’s cheeks and ears were visibly red through the whole thing, and his eyes were closed with a toothy smile showing on his face as he laughed through his teeth.

Roman eventually piped up. “Do you need a break?” Roman asked.

Logan shook his head. “Nohohoho, Ihihi’m fihihihine.” Logan replied. Roman’s smile grew brighter as he kept on going. “Well, I’m getting a little bit bored of the belly, so I think I’m gonna move somewhere else.” Roman decided.

Logan nodded and let him.

Roman moved to Logan’s hips and started gently squeezing them. Logan bursted out laughing almost immediately, and threw his head back as another fit of laughter left his mouth. He was wiggling and flopping around too. It was pretty funny to look at.

“IHIHIHIT’S SOHOHOHO BAHAHAD! WHYHYHY THEHEHERE?!” Logan asked.

“Because it’s a really good ticklish spot! One of my favorite tickle spots, to be completely honest.” Roman added.

Logan just kept on laughing wholeheartedly from Roman’s skilled fingers. Roman spent a little while longer tickling Logan with not much else to say to him. Eventually, Roman stopped tickling Logan and gave him some water and a cold wash cloth to cool Logan down. Logan took them thankfully and gave Roman a big, sweaty hug.

A little anger management for a little physical affection. Favors can go a long way.

[princessjaqulinechess1031]

six makes a family

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Janus, Virgil, Patton, Logan, Roman, Remus

Summary: When their world falls apart, it’s up to Patton and Janus to rebuild their family. Snapshots into the lives of six orphaned boys trying to make it.

Trigger Warnings: Death, Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Car Accidents, Premature Birth (mentioned)

Everything fell apart the day Virgil was born. Everyone knew it, even Virgil, but no one dared say it.

It was not Virgil’s fault what happened. It was no ones. Their parents had been coming back from dinner, one last hurrah before their new baby arrived. Patton and Janus had been home, watching over the terrible twosome and Logan, dolling out pizza and watching Aladdin defeat Jafar for about the thousandth time. It had been blissful, all of them who could remember would say. The calm before the storm, the eye of the hurricane, the stillness before the crashing wave.

Then the phone had rang, Patton had answered, and there was a mad dash for keys and the car and a hurried “Logan, watch your brothers!”. An indigent sound from Logan, confused cries from the twins, and another phone call to their aunt to get to the house now something is wrong something is very wrong.

Janus and Patton had burst into a hospital. They had hoped maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a wrong number, but then they gave their name and gotten than sad look from the nurse on call, and then everything broke as they were led to a conference room.

Never a good sign, Janus remembered himself thinking.

The doctor, apparently a very an important doctor from the many suffixes after their name, had sat them down and said all this medical mumbo jumbo neither really understood. A car wreck. Impaled lung. Cardiac arrest. Internal bleeding. Emergency c-section.

It all boiled down to one thing. Mom and dad were dead, and their little brother was here, three months early.

“His name is Virgil,” the doctor said, very solemn in the uniform way doctors always were. “Your mother told me that was what they wanted to name him before she went into surgery.”

Patton barely held back a sob, and the doctor was going to say something else, but Janus cut them off with a frown.

“Will he live?” Janus asked. “Will Virgil live?” His voice was raspy, hard, clouded with emotion.

The doctor looked uncomfortable and shifted in her seat. The harsh lines of her face didn’t soften.

“There have been cases of preemies born at 23 weeks surviving, but we won’t know for sure for a few days,” the doctor said. “But right now, it does look like he has a positive chance for survival.”

Survival. That was all that mattered now. Virgil’s survival, the rest could wait. The pain, the emotion, the anger, even the tomorrow, the next hours, telling the twins and Logan. All that would take a back seat, Janus decided, right now, all his energy went towards Virgil’s survival.

Patton reached for his brother’s hand and squeezed it tightly. It will be alright, the gesture said. We’ll work this out.

And yes, they would. Come hell or high water.

********

The bill felt like it was burning Logan’s hand. Logan wanted to put it down, but he couldn’t, his eyes just kept scanning the words before him over and over and over again. They were behind four months on the mortgage and if they didn’t pay it next month, they were out on the street. Logan knew that Janus and Patton didn’t want him to know this. In the six months since Virgil came home, they had tried to like nothing was wrong. That they were okay. That their parent’s dying was not going to be their family’s undoing.

Logan had suspected something was wrong; Patton’s eyes had lost that shine of joy, Janus’s eyes were baggy and tired, the two of them hardly ever ate dinner with them (“I’m not hungry”, “I ate at work”). Janus had dropped out the day after the accident to get a job. Logan supposed he had been a little naïve to believe that Janus being assistant manager at the Gap and Patton picking up shifts at the dinner down the street would keep them afloat.

Logan knew he should shove the letter back in the drawer, run to his room, and pretend he had never seen it. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Some magnetic force was keeping him rooted to the spot. He couldn’t go back and unknew what he knew now.

Distantly he heard the sound of Virgil crying; Logan knew Janus would be too preoccupied with him to find him here. Patton wasn’t here. Anyone who would catch him wouldn’t find him. He took a deep sigh and pulled out the drawer farther. One by one he took them out and read each. Mortgage, lights, credit cards, even the water bill was in there, colored red like a failed test, and with each one the nine-year-old felt more and more sick to his stomach.

How? How could it have gotten this bad so quickly? How were they going to fix this?

Who was going to fix this?

The front door slammed, and a shrill thrill bounded down his spine.

“Hidey-ho, I’m home,” Patton called out. Logan, now that he was looking for it, could tell how manufactured it was. That the tone was more synthetic that it was in the past.

Logan scrambled, shoving them in the drawer, creating a large pile that Logan knew would tell them someone found it. Logan hoped that they thought that Roman and Remus had found it, thought it was something to play in, but Logan had a small suspicion that maybe they wouldn’t notice. That they were so busy they wouldn’t care to notice how messy the overdue bill drawer was.

Logan spun on his heel just as Patton entered the kitchen and set his bag down on the kitchen table.

“Hey Logan,” Patton said. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

Logan stuttered for a moment and then shook his head. Patton gave him a curious look, and Logan knew that Patton thought something was off. Logan also knew that he couldn’t let Patton know that Logan knew what he knew.

Logan smiled and then ran off, mumbling something to Patton about needing to do some research in his room.

The next day, Logan mentioned that he saw a vacancy sign on an apartment building on the bus home.

**********

“Roman. Roman. Roman!”

The seven-year-old jerked awake and found his twin’s eyes staring back at him.

“Rem, what it is?” Roman asked sleepily. Remus bit his lip and pulled the blanket they shared tighter around himself, exposing Roman’s socked feet to the room.

“I had a nightmare,” Remus said softly. Roman didn’t say anything. Remus had had nightmares ever since The Night; normally they woke everyone up, he would be screaming and thrashing and slinging his limps every which way before he awoke. It was one of many reasons Virgil’s crib had been smushed into Patton and Janus’s room, and Logan had been moved onto a cot in the corner of the living room and Roman and Remus slept on the pull-out couch.

But the worst nightmares didn’t have screaming. They didn’t have anything, just a tearful and eerily quite Remus waking his twin in the middle of the night, lost and alone.

“Bad one?” Roman asked, even though he already knew the answer. Remus nodded and curled his fist under his chin. Roman frowned. “Wanna talk about it?”

Remus shoot his head. Roman had an inkling, however, what Remus had seen in his dreamland. The very worst possible version of the wreck – bloody limbs and twisted metal, the smell of charred flesh and burning gas. Roman had had them too, and still did every once in a while. But they never were as bad as the ones Remus had.

Roman reached out to hug his brother, shuffling the blanket and sheet.

“It’s okay Rem,” Roman said. Remus snuffled once. “It’s okay Remus. We’re safe.”

Remus snuffled again and Roman hugged him tighter.

“I miss Mom and Dad,” Remus said in a small voice.

“I do too,” Roman said in a smaller voice. They were quiet for a long moment, neither able to go back to sleep. Logan rolled over on his cot, mumbling something in his sleep that neither twin could make out.

“But we have each other,” Roman said. “Born together –”

“Friends forever,” Remus finished. It had been their mantra ever since they had learned to talk. They had been saying it a lot more since Mom and Dad had died, even if all their other family fell away, there would still be the two of them. They came into this world together, they would be separated by nothing.

Roman yawned, the two brothers still curled around each other.

“Good night Rem,” Roman said. “I love you.”

“I love you too Ro-Ro,” Remus whispered.

Remus did not wake up again that night, safe with his brother.

********

“Well then you add the three –”

“Why?”

“I don’t know for sure, it’s just –”

“Why don’t you know?”

Patton sighed as Remus bounced at the kitchen counter, thumping his pencil against the half-finished math worksheet. Remus was the most impossible to get homework done with because he simply just got so distracted. It was normally a marvel to watch him and the way he thought, they way he could move so quickly, only Roman able to keep up with him, but when it came to math homework, it was less of a marvel.

“I was in the third grade nearly eleven years ago, I can’t quite remember everything,” Patton said. “But I do know that Logan would know, why don’t you go ask him?”

Remus’s eyes lit up and he took his sheet and ran to where Logan was sitting on the couch, books out in front of him. Patton knew that Logan was trying to get his own homework done, but Patton simply didn’t have time right now. He had to cook dinner and then get ready for work and then –

“Patty!” Three-year-old Virgil tootled towards Patton and grabbed onto his legs and looked up. “Dinner time!”

Patton smiled and picked up his littlest brother and set him in his high chair. Virgil was almost out of needing to use it, and Patton selfishly hoped soon he would grow out of it so they could sell it.

Roman looked up from his seat at the counter, sitting much quieter than his twin had been.

“What are we having for dinner?” Roman asked.

“Well, I was thinking hot dogs’ kiddo,” Patton said. Patton opened the refrigerator and found said hot dogs, but was aware that the only other contents were orange juice, a package of biscuits, and bologna. It wasn’t much but it would last them through tomorrow when Patton got paid, and then Janus would be paid the day after. They could stock up the best they could with whatever was left.

Patton had just gotten them in the oven to bake (he had read somewhere that it was healthier that way) when the door to the apartment slammed open and shut, alerting Patton that his brother was home. Janus entered the alcove for the kitchen/living room (really all that separated it was a stained half-wall and a counter), frowning.

“Hey-ho Jan,” Patton said. Janus didn’t say anything else, merely frowned and squinted his eyes, and Patton knew that look. It was the “we need to talk” look. Patton and Janus had quickly perfected it – there was so much they didn’t want the younger kids to know. Patton didn’t let his smile waver, instead turning towards their sparse cabinet pantry and pulling out a loaf of bread. They didn’t have enough for buns – but bread would work just fine.

“We’re having hot dogs for dinner!” Patton said. Janus nodded and sat on the stool next to Roman and looked over his shoulder at his homework. “I know it’s only a quarter to five, but I was hoping we could eat as a family before I went to work.”

Patton held the esteemed position of cashier at the McDonald’s down the street. It was one of the twenty-four hour ones, so it allowed Patton to be home during the day with Virgil and work at night, and then Janus could be here with the others at night. Patton’s dreams of being an elementary teacher had been zapped once he and Janus got the medical bills for his parents and Virgil; it was strange, how much dying cost. It had cleared out all of their parent’s savings paying for their expenses, and then the life insurance policy had been snatched up by funeral costs and getting a new car since theirs was totaled in the wreck.

But McDonalds was fine. It helped keep the lights on. It was Janus, as the oldest, who brought in most of the bacon – he was a warehouse worker at door company, it wasn’t much but it was enough to keep them not comfortable but steady.

Janus nodded. Janus hadn’t said much in the past few years. He had always been a quiet soul, now more than ever since he and Patton had taken on co-parenting duties.

“Virgil!”

Well, mostly quiet.

“How is my favorite toddler doing?” Janus asked, rising from his chair. He walked over and ruffled Virgil’s dark brown hair. Virgil smiled.

“Janny!” Virgil said. Janus reached down to the floor of the kitchen, where Virgil’s stuffed spider sat. Patton kept it tidy the best he could, but every now and then things fell through the cracks and things just got left where they were tossed.

“Were you good for Patton today?” Janus asked, and Virgil nodded vigorously. Roman frowned and looked up from his homework.

“How come you didn’t ask how I was doing?” Roman asked. Janus raised an eyebrow.

“Because I know how you’re doing,” Janus said. “I received a call from your teacher about how you and Remus, what was it, freed the class snake?” Patton had received a frantic text message from Janus earlier informing him about this, and they had resolved to talk with the twins about it together. They were team, after all.

“It was an accident!” Roman tried to plead, but this was undermined by Remus perking up from his spot next to Logan.

“No, it wasn’t!” Remus said. Patton couldn’t help but smile in the corner of his mouth. The image of Roman and Remus sneaking around a snake terrarium was somehow funny, he wasn’t sure why.

Janus frowned. “No TV after dinner for a week. For either of you. Sound fair Patton?” They had an alright TV; Aunt Patty had gotten a new one the year before and given them their old one. It only received the channels they got from the antenna-like plug in they got at the store, but hey, The Kelly Clarkson Show was more interesting than nothing.

Roman looked up at him with pleading eyes, and Patton almost cracked. He hated punishing them, even thought they deserved it.

“Sorry kiddo,” Patton said. “But Janus is right. You and Remus shouldn’t be messing around with snakes and letting them out.” Roman frowned, but Remus seemed unbothered, kicking his feet back and forth and ignoring his math homework.

The oven dinged and Patton went to get the hot dogs out of the oven while Janus shuffled out the paper plates from the cabinet. All in all, paper utensils were easier on the daily, even if a little more expensive in the long run. Him and Janus only had so many hours in a day and doing lots of dishes added up as well after a while.

They had no kitchen table, so they all crowded in the living room, sitting on the floor and the couch. Virgil’s highchair sat next to the couch, and he was stuffing cut up pieces of hotdog in his mouth. Logan prickled his nose like he always did; he hated eating on furniture, but their was no other choice really.

Janus finished quickly and then stood and motioned for Patton to follow him to the back room with a tilt of his head. Janus rubbed Virgil’s head as he sat in the moved highchair, and Virgil ate the chopped-up pieces of hot dog. Patton quickly swallowed his bite of hot dog and placed his plate onto the carpet from his lap. He stared at Remus with stern eyes.

“Please don’t eat my food while I’m gone,” Patton said, but he knew from the way Remus smiled that his food was toast. Oh, well, Remus was a growing boy.

The door shut behind the two with a click, and Janus rung his hands as he sat on the bed. They were quiet, and Patton just let Janus come to what he wanted to say on his own. Janus just needed some time, sometimes. (Patton laughed at his internal joke.)

Janus took a breath after that time. “I lost my job.”

Patton blinked. “Oh.”

Then the panic set in. Janus was the main breadwinner – with out them, there was nothing. Patton’s salary, even working all the doubles and triples he could, would never be enough.

“Did they give a reason?” Patton asked. Janus sighed.

“The company is merging with another one,” Janus said. “They had to cut staff to make way for the new ones.” Janus rubbed at his eyes. “They gave me an extra two weeks pay, as a severance gift.” Janus huffed once humorlessly. “A real gift, huh?”

Patton sighed and sat next to his brother. “Did you supervisor – what his name – Joe, John, oh, whatever – did he say he’d give you a recommendation?”

Janus nodded. “Yeah, but it still sucks.”

Patton bit his lip and played with a loose string of his pants. “I can take some extra shifts, work some breakfast shifts and then go back for the night. You can stay and take care of Virgil while you look for work.”

Janus nodded glumly and turned away from Patton. Patton sighed and looked up at the sky. They couldn’t catch break just once in their life, could they?

*********

“I wanna play!” Virgil called after Roman and Remus, who were running around the playground without care. Roman and Remus didn’t call anything back to their younger brother, the nine-year-olds running off to play pirates or princesses or something or other. Virgil huffed and stopped at the edge of the playground as he realized that his brothers weren’t coming back for him.

Virgil watched the twins run around the field directly next to the park’s playground, picking up sticks and chasing after each other with them. A thin, achy feeling of jealousy pulled at him and he turned away, crossing his arms stubbornly and annoyed.

Whatever. Who wanted to play with the stupid twins anyway? They were stupid and didn’t play any kind of fun games anyway.

Virgil perked up as he spotted fifteen-year-old Logan on a bench, a stack of books next to him as he pushed his glasses up his nose. Virgil smiled and rushed over to one of his middle brothers. Maybe Logan would have something fun they could read together. Virgil was only just now starting to read (having started kindergarten just a few short months ago), but maybe they could read it together! That was always fun to do!

“Hey Logan!” Virgil greeted, stopping short of the bench. Logan must have not heard him at first, because he did not look up from his book. Virgil frowned and leaned forward, his hair falling into a shaggy curtain in front of his eyes. “Logan!”

Logan finally peered over the top of his book to look at Virgil, and Virgil brightened back up again.

“Virgil,” Logan said monotonously. “I’m trying to read.”

Virgil pursed his lips and crossed his arms behind his back nervously.

“While I thought maybe we could read together!” Virgil quietly said. Logan looked at him for a long moment, just long enough that Virgil thought maybe that Logan hadn’t heard him. Then Logan coughed, pushed his glasses up his nose, and shook his head.

“I’m very sorry Virgil,” Logan said. “But I just don’t have the time. My AP Lit teacher wants me to have Lord of the Flies finished by Monday, so I really must keep reading on my own.”

Virgil’s heart dipped into his stomach, and he hit his lip. Of course. Logan was too busy to read with him. Logan was always busy, what with homework and the like. Virgil sometimes wondered if he would have that much homework when he became a teenager like Logan.

Virgil fiddled with his fingers. “Oh, uh, okay.”

Logan seemed truly sorry, looking down on him with a sympathetic frown and a furrowed brow. Logan shook his head and returned to his book. Virgil stood for a moment longer, as if his presence would make Logan change his mind before Virgil stepped away and looked out at the playground.

It was mostly empty, it being rather early in the morning. Patton had wanted to grocery shopping, and him and Janus had decided they could take the kids to the park while Patton went to the grocery store across the street. Logan had rather reluctantly come along as back-up for Janus in case of emergency for watching the kids, but it seemed was rather preoccupied with his books than with anything else.

Virgil frowned and walked over to the swings, and he sat down on the thin blue plastic seat, crossing his legs and gripping tightly onto the metal chains. He stared down at the wooden chips decorating the floor of the playground and wondered idly if Patton would be done shopping soon. Virgil was ready to go home, where he could cuddle with Miss Floofy, his stuffed spider. Miss Floofy was never too busy to play with him or ignored him like the twins did.

An angry bubble burst in Virgil’s chest. Why couldn’t his brothers play with him? Always too busy or occupied with something else. Nothing more than an afterthought to the twins and Logan. Maybe it was his age, he knew that he was the baby and maybe it was the curse of the baby of the bunch to be alone.

Virgil cast a glance across the park, where he saw a little toddler toddle across the grass to their awaiting mother. Virgil titled his head to the side curiously. Virgil was not like the other kids in his class, as he did not have a mom or a dad. He wondered often what it must be like to have one, as his classmates always told stories about how their parents were always playing with them or helping them with homework and other things.

If he had parents, would they have time for him? Would they have played with him today?

“Virgil?”

Virgil blinked and looked over his shoulder to see Janus behind him, hands on his hips and blond hair flipping slightly in the low wind. Janus frowned and came to sit down next to Virgil on the swings.

“Virgil, are you alright?” Janus asked. Virgil hesitated and then nodded.

“I’m okay, Janus,” Virgil said, but his voice broke on Janus’s name. Virgil turned away from Janus and Virgil heard the blond man sigh. Janus reached to put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, and Virgil did not shift away from Janus.

“I know you, Virgil,” Janus insisted. “You have your pouty face, and something is always wrong when you have your pouty face.”

Virgil crossed his arms and turned to Janus indignantly.

“I’m not pouting,” Virgil stated. Janus half-smiled, his eyes flickering with mischief.

“Of course not, my dear little spider,” Janus conceded easily. Janus rubbed his shoulder gently and smiled softly at Virgil. “I’m simply pointing out that you seem a little upset.”

Virgil pursed his lips a little (totally not looking like he was pouting, mind you), and uncrossed his arms. He stared at Janus for a very long moment and then he sighed, regripping the metal chains of the swings.

“None of the others want to play with me,” Virgil mumbled. Janus raised a brow, prompting Virgil to continue. “The twins just ignored me and then Logan was too busy to read with me.”

Janus nodded solemnly.

“I see.” Janus stood from the swing set and came to kneel in front of Virgil, placing a hand back on Virgil’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry the others don’t want to play with you.”

A bubble of a question floated it’s way out of Virgil’s mouth before he could stop it.

“Would Mom have played with me?”

It was a taboo subject, Virgil knew that. Virgil knew once upon a time he had had a mom, but that she was gone very shortly after he was born. He wasn’t sure what happened to her – no one talked about it. So, all Virgil knew that she was here and then she was gone, gone before he could remember her.

As Virgil watched a myriad of emotions pass through his brother’s face, he was sure he had said the wrong thing. That he had crossed the unspoken line that he was not allowed to cross with his brothers. But then Janus smiled softly.

“Mother would have loved to play with you,” Janus whispered, barely loud enough for Virgil to hear. Janus reached up to caress Virgil’s face gently, a kind sparkle in his dark eyes. “She loved you so much, Virgil.”

Virgil cocked his head to the side. “She did?”

Janus nodded. “Of course, she did.”

Virgil swallowed thickly and another question he shouldn’t ask drawled out of him.

“Then why did she go?” Virgil whispered. Janus sighed and looked down at Virgil’s shoes.

“She…. she had to leave,” Janus settled on after a long moment. “She would have stayed with us if she could have, I know she would have. But the choice wasn’t up to her, it was just….”

Janus trailed off, and Virgil shut his eyes, trying to picture what Mom would have been like. There were pictures in their apartment, of a tall woman with dark brown hair and a large smile, but it didn’t tell him what Mom was like. Was she loud like the twins? Smart like Logan? Kind like Patton? Quiet like Janus?

Was she anything like Virgil?

Janus shook his head.

“The fact of the matter is that Mother loved you very, very much, Virgil. More than you could ever know. And she would have done anything to spend time with you.”

Virgil bit the bottom of his lip.

“Will she ever come back?” Virgil asked hopefully. Janus grinned glumly and dropped his eyes back to the ground.

“No, unfortunately,” Janus answered. “Mother is…. isn’t coming back.” Janus looked back up at Virgil and Virgil could see that Janus missed Mom a lot. Janus’s eyes were sadder than Virgil had ever seen them, all color drained from his face and leaving him slightly gray. Janus ran a hand through his hair and mumbled something to himself.

Virgil stood form the swing, shrugging off Janus’s hand before diving into hug Janus around the neck. Janus stiffened, and then he returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s torso, pulling the five-year old closer to him.

“I love you Janus,” Virgil said, not quite sure what else to say. Janus curled one hand into Virgil’s dark curls and placed a soft kiss to the crown of Virgil’s head.

“I love you too, Virgil,” Janus returned.

Virgil knew that he didn’t really understand what it was to have a mom.

But he had a Janus. And he supposed maybe that was good enough.

********

Patton stood at the edge of the two graves for their parents, a light blue peacoat wrapped around his shoulders. A bundle of forget-me-nots were freshly set in the area between the two headstones, the little blue blossoms shaking in the autumn wind.

When Patton had woken up this morning, he hadn’t expected to be here as the sunset on their small Florida town. Some…. some force had just taken over him as he left the school he substitutes at, a force that had caused him to stop at a florist on the way home and detour to the cemetery.

It had been nearly four months since he had last been here, back at the anniversary of their death. It had been all six of them crowded around them the two headstones. Each of them had shared their favorite memory of their parents as they laid down flowers, except for eight-year-old Virgil, who laid down the flowers silently, having no memories of his own to share.

Virgil had finally been told the full story this past anniversary, as they felt he was finally old enough to understand the story. How in the end, their mother in her final moments of clarity had told the doctors in no uncertain terms that it Virgil the saved, not her. Mom was selfless like that. Putting her children before her, literally giving her life to save her child.

Patton shook his head and stared at the headstones in the receding light.

“Hey,” Patton whispered to the stones. “I’m sorry for not coming around more. Been, uh…been busy. Not really an excuse, I know, but….”

Patton didn’t like to be sad. Didn’t like to dwell on the terrible cards fate had handed him, instead choosing to look at the glass as half-full. He was raising his siblings with Janus. That just meant he got to be closer to them than normal siblings. He didn’t get to be a permanent teacher but a substitute. That just meant he got to make a positive impact in more kid’s lives.

But that could also be flaw. It meant that his grief had been pushed into a box, only taken out at intervals where it finally pushed the drawer open of it’s own accord. And grief was a fickle thing, and it never truly went away, no matter how long it ago the loss was.

Patton supposed today was just one of those days where the grief was just too much, and it got pushed out of him of it’s own accord.

Tears collected in the corners of his eyes.

“I miss you guys,” Patton choked out. “It’s not the same without you here.”

Patton knew him and Janus were no substitute for their parents. They tried their very best, but it…it wasn’t the same. They just were so young when they inherited the responsibility, and so inexperienced. They didn’t know what they were doing, and Patton knew somewhere along the line they were making mistakes. That sooner or later they would mess the others up so bad that it couldn’t be fixed.

If they hadn’t already.

Patton sniffled once and wiped at his tears.

“I wish you were still here,” Patton said. “I want you to just…I want to feel your hugs again. I want to just talk to you….to say goodbye.”

Patton was not able to say goodbye, which was something that prevented him for being completely at peace with what happened. He just wanted to people to tell them he loved them one final time. To let them know before they went on to what comes next that Patton would never forget them.

But he didn’t get that.

And he never would.

******

Remus took a bite of what the school passed off as pizza and flipped a page in his book. In the back of his head, he knew he should be studying for the math quiz he had next period, but Ray Bradbury was much more interesting than algebraic equations. ‘Asides, Logan was the smart brother anyway.

Remus had barely just managed to get through with his chapter when Roman plopped down in the seat across from him. Remus didn’t bother to look up, just taking another bite of his food and waiting for Roman to start talking.

“I cannot believe the cast for the upcoming spring musical!” Roman huffed. “Me – an ensemble member!” He scoffed and placed a hand on his chest overdramatically. “This is the face of a star, Remus! Not some common ensemble member!”

Remus gave Roman another moment in case his dramatic brother had something else to say, and then Remus swallowed another bite of his pizza.

“As someone who has the same face, I agree, yes, face of a star and all that jazz,” Remus started. “And secondly, it’s a middle school production of Annie, not on the Broadway, bro. You’ll survive.”

“It’s the principal of the thing, Rem!” Roman made another indignant noise and crossed his arms. Roman shook his head and reached to take a pepperoni off of Remus’s pizza, but the younger twin swatted away Roman’s hand.

“Get your own!” Remus defended and slid his lunch tray closer to himself. Roman leaned his head on his hand and gave a dramatic sigh.

“First, I am snubbed, and now my own twin brother won’t share his pizza with me!” Roman monologued to no one. “What has my life come to?”

Remus rolled his eyes and then he cut a look across the lunchroom, and he felt his soul leave his body. Because all the way across the lunchroom, standing by the door like he had every right to be there, was Logan.

As in, senior in high school, should not-be-here Logan.

“Logan?!” Remus whisper shouted. Roman furrowed his brow and turned to where Remus was looking.

“What are you—” And then Roman paled and turned around, bringing a hand up to cover his face in an attempt not to be spotted by their older brother.

“What is the Microsoft Nerd doing here?” Roman asked. “Did you get a text or somethi—”

“Remus, Roman,” Logan called out to them over the din of the lunchroom. He walked over to their table, his back straight and his lips drawn into a thin line. As usual, his countenance did nothing to give away how he was feeling. Logan stopped at the foot of their table, looking between them as a brief acknowledgement. “Grab your things, I’ve been given permission to sign you out.”

Roman raised a brow and crossed his arms.

“Why?” Roman asked.

“Virgil had an accident today at school and –”

Remus yelped, all the worse case scenarios running through his head. Virgil was the youngest of them all, in the third grade, and the most fragile due to his petite size. Any number of things could have happened to him. Was he hurt? Or was he –

The room was suddenly much too small, and there were too many people in it. Hot, runny tears pooled in his eyes and spilled over before he could stop them. He tried to speak, to say something, anything. But the words got caught in his throat and nothing would leave his mouth except the sound of dry heaving. There wasn’t enough air in this building, and he wanted more of it. So much more.

There was an accident. Last time there was an accident their parents had – Virgil – no –

A pair of hands fell onto his shoulders, and he looked up to see his twin staring back at him, concern littered across his features. Remus tried to get another breath but once again their wasn’t enough oxygen in the building to get into his lungs.

“Rem, Rem, it’s okay,” Roman called to him. “Remus! Take a deep breath for me, okay? Can you do that?”

Remus’s eyes were wide as he stared at Roman, and he could make out Logan over Roman’s shoulder. He could just barely make out the form of their elder brother and the concerned look on their face. Remus shook his head as he tried to gulp at the air around him and Roman griped tighter onto his shoulders.

“Alright then, just listen to the sound of my voice, okay? Focus on that for me, alright Rem?”

Remus shut his eyes and tried his best to focus on the sound of hid brother’s voice. They way it cracked and changed, the nuance of the way it bobbled with emotion.

“It’s okay Remus,” Roman whispered. Remus finally managed to take a large gulp of air and he relished in the feeling of it, and sucked in another breath and then another and then another. “You’re safe, we’re all safe.”

Logan whispered something, just soft enough that Remus could not hear what it was.

“Virgil is safe too. Just a broken arm.” Roman squeezed Remus’s shoulders even tighter, as if pouring all of his love and emotion into the gesture. “We’re all safe.”

Remus finally regained control of his breathing and he opened his eyes slowly, his cheeks still wet from the tears he had shed, and he focused in on the concerned look on his twin’s face. They were okay. Everything was okay. Roman had said so, and he could always trust Roman.

Born together. Friends forever.

******

“Janus?”

“Yeah Virgil?”

“Is it my fault? That mom is dead?”

“No.”

********

Logan was not the most emotional of the Sanders brothers, and that was not a fact that could be debated. The most emotional Sanders aware easily went to Patton, followed in a close second by the twins. Emotion just not come easily to the third eldest of the siblings. He was much better with facts and figures, things that could be easily compartmentalized into categories. It made it easier to control, easier to understand.

So, when he wrote his valedictorian speech, it was filled to the brim with facts and figures on graduating. How 77% percent of Florida teens graduated, and how likely it was to get a scholarship. Common statistics for finding a job or starting school. Not all in all the most uplifting of speeches, but it was what he came up with.

Because, as he said, he is not good with emotions.

But as he stared at the flash cards in front of him and the stilled auditorium of his high school, he felt more emotion than he had ever felt before, except for when his parents had passed.

He had not felt anything about starting the next part of his life. No one in his school he had been particularly close with, most people too frightened by his intelligence or unwilling to get to know him. So, he wasn’t leaving anyone behind he would miss with a burning passion.

It was a simply a stage in his life. A phase, a moment in time. Something that he would quickly forget as he went on into college and life beyond. As he lied in his deathbed, high school would be the farthest thing from his mind.

But as he stared out at the audience, he felt a bubble in his throat and his graduation robe was suddenly too tight.

This was over. No longer was he one of ‘the kids’, he was like Janus and Patton now. An adult, someone with responsibilities and could help care for the twins and Virgil in ways he couldn’t before. And that…. that frightened him more than he could express with words.

He swallowed thickly, and he caught a glimpse of his brothers in the second row. Patton was smiling proudly with tears in his eyes, his phone out as he took various pictures. Janus was next to him, much more subtle in his pride, but was smiling up at him all the same, kindness and warmth for once in his usually impassive expression. Roman and Remus looked a little bored as they watched, but were watching none the less, whispering words back and forth before shooting him a thumbs up.

And Virgil…

Virgil sat at the very end of the row; his eyes wide as he realized what the rest of his family hadn’t yet. Logan was choking. Logan for once was at a stumbling block he couldn’t step over. Emotion would be downfall in this moment.

Virgil tilted his head to the side and then nodded at Logan. A silent motion, one meant to guide him.

You got this Lo.

Logan bit his lip, then shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

And then he stated his speech.

*******

The birthday candles in front of Virgil glowed, a total of fourteen placed in the dark purple frosting. The lights created a soft orange glow that entranced the six brothers. Patton stood over Virgil; his knife ready to cut the cake. Roman and Remus sat across the table from Virgil, holding matching presents to give to the birthday boy, while Logan was a video monitor on the table, having been unable to make it back home from college for the weekend.

And Janus? Janus stood just inside from the kitchen, watching the whole exchange of everyone else singing happy birthday to Virgil. Janus mumbled along but kept his eyes focused on his youngest brother, trying to fathom how much time had passed since the youngest had been born.

Fourteen years. Fourteen long years. Fourteen short years. Years that Janus ached to relive so that he could watch more closely as his brother’s grew, and years that Janus had endured with the weight of worlds on his shoulders and wished he had never had. Fourteen paradoxical years, fourteen years that he had his baby brother Virgil.

Janus watched with a smile as the song ended, and Virgil blew out the candles. Roman and Remus, still mischievous as ever at eighteen, smiled wickedly and then each reached to swipe a finger across the frosting. They reached to smudge it across the birthday boy’s face, and he quickly dodged it, the twins laughing rambunctiously. Logan let out a sigh from the screen, and Patton was smiling despite his admonishments sent in the direction of Roman and Remus.

Janus grinned and put his hands in his pockets. This night fourteen years ago, things had fallen apart.

And somehow, they had managed to put the pieces back together.

“Janus!” Virgil called. “Can stand in the corner, or going to join us, you psycho?”

Janus bit his lip to hold back a laugh and stepped forward toward them.

“Coming, my dear little spider.”

Notes:

Chapter Bible Verse:

"Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous:" -- 1 Peter 3:8

I've finally dipped my toe into Sanders Sides fics, and I hope y'all enjoyed. I might return to this fic one day and explore some more dynamics in this family, but I'm not sure yet. What do y'all think?

Accepting prayer requests if they are needed.

Questions, comments, or concerns? Let me know! Have a blessed day!

--PrincessChess

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Hallucination

Prompts: i love your fics insanity and real or not real!! can i request another fic where a side is struggling to tell what's real and what's a hallucination? can be in the same like universe (carrying on with one of the stories) or a completely different universe/person, idm - anon

 *crashes into ur asks*

Hey if you’re still taking requests could you do just Janus comforting someone on the verge of a meltdown? Like lots of soft words and caring Janus? He’s my comfort character and I love him - anon

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 1 (ish) 

Warnings: talk of hallucinations, uncertainty

Pairings: focus on creativitwins, intrulogical, dukeceit, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes Thomas watches things and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes Thomas decides to watch something late at night, when it’s dark outside, even though Virgil tells him it’s a bad idea, and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

 Sometimes when Virgil has gone to his room and he’s fine, but Thomas’s mind can’t stop playing it over and over and over and over, he starts to expand on it and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

 He can’t remember the name of the video. Something to do with being stuck on a misty island in the middle of nowhere with a monster and villagers that wait to sacrifice tourists to the monster to sate its hunger. Something about a daring rescue or an escape plan doomed to fail.

 Something like…

 “Do not go outside. Do not turn on the lights. Don’t make sounds.” The old man draws the curtains sharply across the window. “And whatever you do, do not look out the window.”

 It’s late now. Patton’s asleep. Virgil’s in his room, probably asleep. The rest of them are still awake in the Imagination. It’s slumber party night for the twins, having created a big sprawling mansion in the Imagination for them to run around in. Logan is here, Janus is here, Roman is here.

 Villagers?

 They’re talking about what Thomas watched.

 Logan straightens his legs out. “It’s not a bad practice, staying quiet.”

 Janus rolls his eyes. “Come on, what is this, some haunted island?”

 “You saw the people in the video.” Logan rests his weight on his elbows. “Something was amiss.”

 “The only thing amiss was how awfully boring you lot are being.” Janus sighs and stands, stretching. “Well, I think a night of entertainment sounds wonderful.”

 “The old man said to be quiet,” Roman points out. Wait, is the old man real?

 “Do you know how prone to flights of fancy old people are?” Janus smiles. “Incredibly.”

 “Hmm.”

 “Oh don’t start that.” Janus rolls his eyes and his gaze lands on Remus. A smirk crawls across his face. “Well,” he drawls, sauntering across the room, “someone’s being awfully quiet.”

 Remus just shrugs. Janus crouches down.

 “What do you think about this monster,” he asks, tapping his fingers on his chin, “about the thing that sneaks around this island, peering into windows, through the keyholes of locked doors?”

 “Janus,” Logan warns.

 “What? I just want to hear what our other little scientist thinks about this.” He raises his eyebrows when Remus won’t hold his gaze. “No? Nothing? Need more data? Well, I’m sure you could ask around if you wanted to.”

 “We’re not supposed to leave,” he says softly.

 “I know you’re a goody-two-shoes, Remus, but you’ll never get anything done that way.”

 “Leave him alone, Janus,” Roman says with a wink, “he’s just mad at how pathetic the monster design was.”

 Long limbs. Dark eyes. Moved like shadow.

 “And the Boy Scout, coming to the rescue.” Janus rolls his eyes as he stands. “Aren’t you tired of being so boring?”

 Roman holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m all for exploring!”

 Janus sighs. “Ever the dashing prince, are we?”

 “Ask nicely and I may sweep you off your feet too.”

 The banter continues. Logan just sighs and pulls out a journal, the pen emerging from god-knows-where as he writes. Remus swallows and glances toward the window.

 In. Out. In. Out.

 Roman and Janus are still tossing barbs and jests back and forth. Remus cannot help but notice how loud they are being.

 The old man said to be quiet.

 Logan looks up when he begins to crouch down and shuffle behind the bed.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Changing.” He gives a half-hearted smile. “Texture spoons ran out.”

 He nods and goes back to his writing. Remus glances at the nightstand. Only 8:00. The conversation gets progressively louder. Logan joins in eventually, rolling his eyes at Roman’s increasingly elaborate proposals to bring in jukeboxes, disco lights, and speakers.

 “Let’s think about this logically. If the ghosts or whatever the hell the monster is sensitive to sound, why not pump everything to like, 300 decibels and blast their eardrums out?”

 “Or it could be that they just hear things like we hear things,” Logan remarks.

 “Mm.”

 “Why do I have to be quiet?” Roman spreads his arms. “I should not have to deal with that!”

 “Actually, you know what,” Janus says gleefully, “I agree. We shouldn’t have to be quiet. If this place doesn’t have adequate monster protection, that’s on them.”

 This place…didn’t they make it safe? Roman said they made it safe. Is it not safe anymore? Are the shadows—is the monster here?

 “Always the entitlement,” Logan sighs, seemingly resigning himself to the voice of reason as he settles his journal to the side, “assuming that everyone should cater to your needs.”

 “Oh come on, Logan. You have to admit that having a hotel that isn’t secure makes little to no sense.”

 Hotel? Isn’t this still the mansion?

 The low buzz of an LED sign comes from outside. Remus blinks. Has…has that always been there?

 “Not respecting the rules of wherever you choose to go makes little to no sense.”

 “That’s gotta hold up in court though.” Roman glances at Janus. “You get me?”

 “Yes, Your Honor,” Janus says, drawing himself up like a lawyer, “I would like to sue on the grounds that my intestines were devoured horrifically by a terrifying, savage beast that the hotel owners neglected to inform me of. How am I standing here, you ask, if my intestines have been devoured? Simple. Spite.”

 Roman’s off, cackling to his heart’s content. Logan bites back his own smile.

 “And how, may I ask, is this not the fault of yourself?”

 “May I say, Your Honor, that victim-blaming is not cute—“

 “Here here,” comes Roman’s voice.

 “—and also, the information about aforementioned monster came from someone who was not an employee of the hotel,” Janus finishes grandly, “therefore they can suck my—“

 Logan hits his hand against the nightstand, still fighting down laughter. “Defendant is charged with contempt of court.”

 “Do not pass go,” Roman chortles as Janus swoons dramatically, “do not collect 200 dollars.”

 “Remus,” Janus cries out, “avenge me!”

 Remus does not respond. He is too busy trying to figure out when the mansion became the hotel.

 “Remus,” Janus cries again, crawling dramatically across the floor, “save me from this indignity.”

 “No, thank you,” he mumbles instead.

 Janus huffs, pushing himself off the floor. “Then by all means, please tell us your ingenious solution to this monster problem that we find ourselves in.”

 Remus looks up, his face carefully blank except for a small smile. “I’m going to hide underneath the sheets,” he says in a soft, small voice, “because everybody knows monsters can’t get you when you’re under your sheets.”

 “That is adorable,” Roman chuckles.

 Janus’s eyebrows raise slowly until another fiendish smirk crawls across his face. “Are you scared?”

 “Yes.”

 “Aww,” he coos, “hiding under the sheets to get away from the monsters, how adorable.”

 Remus doesn’t respond.

 “If only the others could see you now,” Janus crows, “they’d know how intimidating you really are.”

 Logan takes his glasses off, polishing them with the handkerchief from his pocket. “As if you’re any better, crying over a torn seam in your cape.”

 “That bastard took two weeks to get right!”

 Remus ignores them once more, glancing at the clock. 9:45. An acceptable time to try and go to sleep. He moves slowly and quietly as he tries to get into the bed. The monster could be here. The banter continues behind him as he pulls the sheets tight around him.

 He does not see Logan glance over. He does not see that Logan frowns and glances at the clock, thinking perhaps Remus is more tired than he appeared, but…still. He does not see Logan look back at the others still talking, they’re probably not going to go to sleep for a long while.

 He does not see Logan look over at him as Janus leaves the room, claiming he’s going to go find somewhere more fun to sleep. He does not see Logan frown, looking to see Remus still on his side, huddled under the sheets. He does not see when Logan starts to count.

 One, two, three, four.

 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

 One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

 He does not see Logan beckon Roman closer.

 He does not see Roman frown as he comes closer, sighing at the notebook in Logan’s hands.

 “Logan, why the hell can’t you take a break for…” he trails off when he sees Logan’s face. “What?”

 “Perhaps I like to keep myself occupied,” Logan says smoothly, even as he nods insistently to the notebook, “even in times where the circumstances might be less than ideal.”

 Roman raises an eyebrow. Subtle, Logan.

 “You are chronically incapable of taking a break, aren’t you?”

 “Perhaps.”

 “Do you know any words other than ‘perhaps?’”

 “Perhaps.”

 Roman hides a smirk as squints at the text.

 I think Remus is actually afraid. Don’t tease. - L

 Remus does hear Roman exhale sharply. He does not see him glance up at the bed before he looks back at Logan and nods.

 “Well,” he sighs, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly, “on that note, it’s probably a good idea to try and sleep.”

 Logan snorts. “And here I thought you were supposed to be an actor.”

 He swats at him halfheartedly as he starts getting ready to go to sleep. What that means is just a matter of snapping his fingers to change out of the prince costume. He packs his other clothes away and crosses the room, keeping his footsteps loud but not too loud.

 Now that he’s paying attention, he can see how scared poor Remus is. He’s frozen under the sheets, barely moving. As Logan starts talking quietly to himself, he sets his bag down next to Remus’s and sighs, moving around to make a bit more noise.

 Remus still doesn’t move.

 When he’s made all the noise he can reasonably make, he walks a little closer to the bed and reaches to fix the curtains, unable to stop the soft noise when his shadow falls over the bed.

 “Hey, Re,” he whispers, leaning down and brushing the sheet a little further from his face, “it’s just me, it’s just Roman. Can you open your eyes for me?”

 It takes him a moment but his eyes do open. He smiles down at him and cups his face for a moment.

 “Hey, there, Re,” he murmurs, “can I come join you?”

 He barely nods.

 “Thank you.” He frowns when he doesn’t move over. “You gonna let me in?”

 He can tell by the way his eyes glass over that’s not a good idea unless he can convince him otherwise.

 “Come on,” he whispers again, “scoot to the other side for me.” He nudges his shoulder gently. “Logan misses you.”

 Loren doesn’t let his mumuring falter but he does reach across the small space between their beds to lightly pat the side closest to him.

 Remus moves, as skittish as the new dragon pups, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, his pillow gripped in his other hand. Roman swiftly takes the warm spot he’s vacated, wincing in sympathy as he shivers on the cold sheets.

 “Thank you,” he sighs, making a show of getting comfortable before reaching out for him, smacking his lips together in sleep, “now come here.”

 At his quickly stifled questioning noise, he drops the act and opens his arm wide.

 “It’s okay, Re,” he whispers, far too quiet for Logan to hear, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

 He stares at him a moment longer before he realizes that shit, he’s not going to be able to move on his own right now.

 “Can I come get you, Re?” Roman smiles when he gives him another one of those jerky nods. “Thank you, I’m gonna pull you over to me, okay?”

 He takes him into his arms slowly and carefully, wrapping him up in the sheets until just the very tops of their heads poke out. He relaxes just enough so that he can maneuver him to where he likes, but he’s far from the sleepy pile he expected.

 “Hey,” he whispers, tucking his hair behind his ear, “you want to stay here with me, Re?”

 He blinks sluggishly. Roman bites back a curse and leans down to rub his nose against his.

 “Hey, hey, Re, you just focus on me, okay? Stay with me here—“ he tightens his grip— “right here…I’ve got you.”

 He frowns when he makes a small little noise that sounds like it could be his name.

 “Yeah, Re? You calling for me?”

 He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He kisses Remus’s forehead.

 “Nonverbal,” he whispers, “or just scared? Or both?”

 A moment passes.

 “Both it is then.” Roman tucks his head under his chin. “Why don’t you go ahead and close your eyes, Re, I’m right here.”

 They stay there, wrapped in the blankets, Remus warm and snug up against Roman’s chest. He plays with his hair, one of his legs slung over his to hold him close, working to lull him out of his frozen state. After a while, Logan stands from the other side of the room and pats Roman’s shoulder.

 “Your turn, Roman.”

 Roman rolls over. “Huh?”

 Logan nods his head toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

 Roman sighs dramatically and presses another kiss to Remus’s forehead, leaving his brother dazed, blinking up at Logan. Logan watches Roman leave before he turns his gaze downwards. Remus tries to pretend the shiver that goes through him at the way Logan softens his gaze is just the cold.

 “Remus,” he calls softly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Remus, may I join you?”

 A pause.

 “Tap the bed twice if yes, once if no.”

 A pause, then Remus hesitantly reaches out to make two little taps.

 “Thank you.”

 He slides smoothly into the bed, reaching out to carefully slip an arm under his and pull him off of the sweat-soaked sheets—when did that happen?—and into his arms. Remus moves pliantly, tucking his chin into the space left between his chin and the pillow.

 “Hey,” he whispers, gentling his voice as he tucks his head closer to Remus’s, “hey.”

 Logan is warm. Is Logan—Logan said it made sense to be quiet. Logan knows. Logan understands. Logan always understands.

 “What’s the matter,” Logan calls gently, “can I help?”

 Remus swallows. “Monster.”

 “Are you afraid of the monster, Remus?”

 Remus nods. “Black eyes. Shadow. Kill you and Roman and Janus and then go find Patton and Virgil and Thomas. Bad.”

 “The monster isn’t real, Remus,” Logan says softly, running his hand through his hair, “it doesn’t exist.”

 Remus shakes his head. “We’re in the hotel on the island. It’s real. Roman left and the monster will kill him.”

 “Roman is just in the bathroom,” Logan corrects, moving his head to indicate the running water sound, “he’s alright. We’re not in a hotel, we’re in the mansion you two created.”

 “But the LED sign is buzzing outside.”

 “Would you like to look and see?”

 “No!” Remus wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’re not supposed to look out the window, the old man said not to.”

 “The old man isn’t here,” Logan says patiently, “I’m here. I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

 “He said—he—he’s not real?”

 “No, Remus, he’s not real.” Logan gives him a gentle squeeze. “This is real. This is real, Remus, I’ve got you.”

 “You’re real.”

 “I am.”

 “You said it’s safe to look out the window?”

 “It is.” Logan squeezes again. “Would you like me to show you?”

 Remus nods. Logan leans up and pulls back the curtain, peeking outside. There’s no bright red light from the hotel LED sign. Just soft moonlight.

 “There’s no sign, Remus,” he murmurs, “you’re not in a hotel.”

 Oh.

 “The scar,” he blurts, his hand flying to his chest, “from the stab, what if it’s already got us?”

 “I don’t have a scar,” Logan says, lying back down and taking Remus’s hand, “here…feel.”

 Logan presses his palm to his bare chest, pulling his shirt out of the way so Remus can see. There’s no scar.

 “You don’t have one either…may I?”

 When he presses his palms against Remus’s chest, there’s no scar.

 “We’re…not there?”

 “No, Remus, we’re not there,” Logan says gently, “we’re here, in the mansion, safe, there’s no monster.”

 The water stops. A moment later and Roman emerges, tossing a towel over his shoulder. He sees the two of them in the bed and pouts.

 “You stole my spot!”

 “I had Remus to comfort,” Logan says smoothly, waving him over, “though you are welcome to help.”

 Roman ruffles Remus’s hair. Remus leans into it.

 “Ro, are you real?”

 “Yes, of course, I’m real, Re, what…” Roman trails off and his eyes go wide. “Oh, Re, did we—did I push you into hallucination territory? I’m so sorry, yes, we’re real, we’re here, we’re in our mansion, we’re safe, Re.”

 “Safe?”

 “Yeah, Re,” Roman murmurs, getting in to cuddle his brother properly, “we’re safe.”

 “Real?”

 “This is real.”

 Remus buries his nose in his brother’s real neck and holds him close. Logan stays by his side, stroking his hair and murmuring that Remus is here, they’re real, they’re safe.

 After a moment, Remus takes a deep breath and pulls apart.

 “You know the rules, Ro-Bro.”

 Roman grimaces, his head dropping to rest against Remus’s sternum for a moment before he nods. Logan looks back and forth between the two of them.

 “What are the rules?”

 “When Remus gets pushed into hallucination territory,” Roman says softly, “he sleeps alone.”

 Logan frowns. “But surely it would help to have us reassure you and help ground you?”

 “Wouldn’t help for the intrusive thoughts and hallucinations to include you too.”

 Logan winces. “I suppose not, but—“

 “Lolo we’ve tried,” Remus mumbles, “we—this works. It sucks and I hate it and so does Ro but this is what works.”

 “I trust you,” Logan says, squeezing Remus’s hand, “and I trust you to know what works for you.”

 “We’re just overprotective.”

 “I’ll say.”

 Roman gives him one last hug before standing and pulling Logan to his feet. “You know we’ll come as soon as you call.”

 Remus nods. “I know.”

 The room feels empty when they leave.

 The night passes.

 During the witching hour, he startles awake.

 The sheets are soaked in sweat directly under him. His eyes are wide. His breathing is too controlled.

 The monster is not here but the shadows are.

 Somewhere in this house, he knows, something is here. He can hear the voice in the movement of the curtains, hear the step in the way the floorboard settles. Hands never meet his tender flesh, a mouth never bites his fragile throat, but something is here.

 Step. Step. Step.

 The fear clouds his eyes as it drips into his ears. The light flickers. Something brushes a knuckle up and over his cheek. Something pauses outside his doorway.

 Through the depths of the fear filling his ears, something knocks.

 The chill rips its fingers out of his mouth and smears them over his throat. Something knocks again. There’s something outside. There’s something outside.

 “Sweetie,” he calls as he opens the door, “Sweetie?”

 Janus steps inside.

 “You’re awake,” he says, shutting the door and sitting on the edge of the bed, “it’s quite late.”

 “I know,” Remus says as he sits up, wary, “sorry.”

 Janus hums, reaching out to idly brush his hair off his forehead. The chill curls and lingers around his fingers, the shadows diving to hide in the lea of him, greedily drinking the fear from Remus. Janus goes to pull his hand away only to notice the prickles on Remus’s skin.

 “Are you cold, my dear?” He frowns and lightly dusts his forearm with his fingertips. “You look it.”

 Remus shakes his head. Janus raises an eyebrow, pressing his thumb hard against his arm to reveal a white imprint. It takes long seconds for the chill to let blood color the flesh again.

 “Let’s not lie,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back up to catch Remus’s, “shall we, sweetie?”

 Janus reaches up to trace the air around the curve of his cheek, one finger lightly tracing his jaw. The electrifying tingle clenches his hands in the sheet. He tilts his head and hums softly.

 “What’s keeping you awake, sweetie?”

 The chill snarls, refusing to let go of his throat.

 “You can speak,” he encourages, lightly knuckling the underside of his chin, “it’s alright.”

 “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head a little.

 “None of that, now, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He closes his hand around his. “To be afraid is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie, you know that.”

 The shadows move slowly, wary of him, eager to taste his fear. The chill huddles around it, icing it in place, refusing to let him breathe without reaching its fingers into the pit of his throat.

 “Oh, my dear,” Janus murmurs, running his fingers along the side of Remus’s neck, “can I do anything for you?”

 He shakes his head quickly. Too quickly.

 “Sweetie…”

 “You’ll be annoyed.”

 “I’m concerned,” Janus corrects gently, “that’s all.”

 Remus risks a glance at the shadows.

 “And you know, Remus,” he continues, lifting his hand to press a chaste kiss to its back, “taking care of you is never annoying.”

 A different type of fear tingles along his fingers as they brush the curve of his jaw. This one reaches deep, deep along his fingers, up his arm, down to the curve of his shoulder, wriggling in between the cold knots to pulse against him. The shadows bloom in the corners of the room, shying away from the light flickering over his face, his shirt, his hand.

 Through the mouthful of fear, his tongue wets his lips. “You’ll find it stupid.”

 “Never, sweetie.”

 “The dark,” blurts shamefully from his mouth, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

 “The dark, sweetie? Is this about…”

 “I got pushed into hallucination territory earlier.”

 Janus makes a noise of sympathy, murmuring an apology for teasing earlier.

 “I can’t see anything but the shadows,” Remus whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, “and the noises, and how empty it is because I know it’s not empty.”

 “And what helps this go away,” he asks, still cupping his hand, “what makes the shadows leave my sweetie alone?”

 “S-stay? Please, with—with me?” Remus’s breath starts to catch again. “Don’t—don’t let them hurt me.”

 “Oh, sweetie, of course,” Janus murmurs, “of course I’ll stay.”

 The poor thing chokes out a sob. Janus reaches forward to lie him back down when his hand brushes the edge of the sheet. He frowns. Picking the sheet up between two fingers, he winces. He can feel his fingertips rubbing together, it’s barely warm enough.

 Remus’s breath still hasn’t caught when he returns with a thick quilt, spreading it over him to banish the last of the chill.

 “Hush now,” he soothes, smoothing the corners of the quilt, “hush, sweetie, it’s over, you did so well, shh…”

 Janus climbs into bed, pulling the shaking Remus to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly, tightly around the poor thing as he cradles Remus protectively.

 “Come here, my sweet,” he whispers, “come here, now, shh, shh, you’re alright now, sweetie, shh, shh…”

 His cries soften, gentled into mewls against his chest as he warms him against his skin. The poor thing is still clenched tighter than a fist. He croons, taking his wrist in his hand and pulling him flush against him.

 “It’s alright, sweetie, you did so well, it’s gone now, you did it, there you are, here you are, right here, sweetie.”

 The poor thing whines.

 “Oh, sweet one, shh, shh, shh, my dear, you’re alright…” He makes a noise of sympathy when he doesn’t stop. “What’s the matter, sweetie, tell me, say it, come now…”

 He brings his hand up to stroke gently under Remus’s chin.

 “Say it, sweetie, tell me what’s troubling you so, let me help, I’m right here, I’m right here.”

 “The shadows,” he whimpers, “the shadows, I can—I can hear them, they—they’re everywhere—I—they’re looking at me, they’re touching me, I can—I can feel them—I—“

 “I’ve got you, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Remus’s cheek, “I’m right here, nothing can touch you, here—“

 He pulls the blankets up and over their heads, creating a little bubble of intimacy in the dark room.

 “I’m here, sweetie, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you, you know I won’t. Shh, shh, hush now, sweetie, it’s alright.”

 They stay like that for a little longer, Remus sobbing out the rest of the fear as Janus hushes him softly, pulls him close, soothes away the last of the tremors with gentle hands and tender words.

 After a while, Remus pulls away.

 “…thanks, Jan.”

 “I promised,” Janus murmurs, “I promised that I’d do it when you need me to.”

 “I know.” Remus sniffles. “I just…wish you didn’t have to.”

 “Don’t ever feel bad about needing something,” Janus chides softly, chucking him lightly under the chin, “especially not when you really need it.”

 “Already sent Lolo and Ro away for hallucinations, you—“

 “They’re fine, sweetie, a little worried, but they came and told me what was happening.” Janus kisses his forehead again. “They’re not angry, they don’t begrudge you needing things, and they’ll be here for you. They always are.”

 “I know.”

 Exhaustion begins to seep into his eyes. He blinks sluggishly.

 “This is real, right?”

 Janus gives him a squeeze. “It’s real.”

 “Can I sleep now?”

 “Oh, of course, sweetie,” he murmurs, leaning back up to rest his head on the pillow next to Remus, “you go right ahead. I’ll be right here. I’ll keep the shadows away.”

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[thisaccisdead]

montreal - roman hurt/comfort

pairing: this was written to all be platonic prinxiety, but can definitely be interpreted romantically !

warnings: unconventional self harm, non-graphic descriptions of wounds/injury

summary: a post-POF roman hurt/comfort fic in january 2021? yes <3

word count: 3.2k

notes: large portions of this were salvaged from one (1) night last summer at 4am when i was having a . time. the rest has been mainly recently written before i go to bed, with some extra bits added during my history classes B)) also shout out to [REDACTED]. u may not read this but if u do, i hope u know who u are & ilu

Virgil had been trying to calm himself down for the better part of an hour, as soon as they got back from the wedding fiasco; and he was doing a relatively okay job. Considering the circumstances, at least. Or so he thought, when he registered a spike in Thomas’s anxiety. This only served to make Virgil more anxious, because he had thought he had been doing well—until, he realized it wasn’t anxiety, not exactly, not fully—and it wasn’t coming from him.

Once he'd figured that out, it wasn't hard to trace the feeling to the imagination. He paused at the door. If this was where the strongest negative emotions were coming from, he already knew which side this was about. And could he really be surprised? Roman had wanted that callback for so long. Even at the court case, even when Roman gave Thomas his sentence, Virgil knew it killed him. And Virgil didn't do anything. Because he was so fucking scared of Thomas being bad, or of Janus winning, or something, and now whatever was going on was his fault, and--

And now was not the time for these thoughts. He breathed in. He opened the door.

Immediately, he was coughing out soot, heat burned his cheeks, his eyes blurred with protective tears forming against the smoke. It was hard to see, let alone process, what was happening. Then, he caught sight of the Dragon Witch. And he caught sight of—

“Roman!” Virgil choked on the yell, coughing again.

Obviously Roman couldn’t hear him from the distance, especially considering the brutal roar of the creature. Adrenaline kicked in, and as Virgil began to sprint towards the prince, he took in the entirety of the scene with alarm. Roman was...fighting, sure, except that Virgil had seen him fight before, and this... wasn’t right. Roman bested manticore-chimeras like it was a breeze, he HAD bested the Dragon Witch herself in every form she took, “just for training.” He always moved like he was in a ballet, not a battle, like it was more for show than challenge, and now...

Virgil watched Roman fall to a hard swish of the creature’s tail, and stay there. He almost expected the Dragon Witch to take mercy, or at least, to accept an early victory. But he watched her rear back, raise a taloned hand, the magma-red in her throat glowing brighter and brighter—just as Virgil got close enough to let fight win over flight.

Virgil crashed into Roman; they rolled just far enough that the swipe of claws only ripped the edge of Virgil’s jacket.

Immediate danger out of the way, Virgil clenched his eyes tight, trying to do it how Logan taught him. He found something that didn’t make sense--the grass. The grass was dry, therefore it should have been burning, but it wasn’t. He took that foothold to dispel all the fantastical elements of the scene, Dragon Witch and all her carnage blinking from existence. The new calm of the scene was jarring.

That just left a great big field, Virgil, and one absolute dumbass.

"What the fuck, Princey?!"

Virgil’s voice was distorted with stress, and Roman stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure—even terrified in a way that hurt. Virgil quickly pushed himself up so he wasn't pinning the other. Roman tried to copy this movement, only to groan, start coughing, and fall back again.

“Shit, I—“ Virgil looked at his hands and found red on them, looked at Roman and saw the color painting his chest. “I thought I dispelled all the imaginary stuff, why—?“

“Left brain sides can only dispel so much of what right brain sides feel,” Roman said, voice rough and thin and upsettingly casual, “Since they feel so real to me, you can’t get rid of them.”

“They feel…? Christ, ok, you need a medical kit, uhm—“ Virgil closed his eyes again; he was notoriously shitty at summoning things, and he had to concentrate for this—

“That’s ok; I’ve got it,” Roman said, letting out a quiet hiss as he propped himself up on one arm, and summoned the medical kit with the other, “You can go now.”

Virgil gaped at him in disbelief. When Roman attempted to stand up, and Virgil could no longer deny he wasn’t joking, he exclaimed, “Like Hell am I going, idiot!”

Roman just stared at him, and Virgil cursed under his breath. “Ok ok, let’s just... we should do this in the bathroom, uhm—“

Virgil awkwardly clambered over to Roman again, taking his hand, so he could blink them over together. He knew it would probably be more comfortable for Roman to sink in and out, but considering Virgil wasn’t practiced at that, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

They apparated into the bathtub, and Virgil scrambled up, taking the med kit from Roman's hands.

Ok, ok, now Virgil just had to remember that one time Logan lectured them all on “Side Safety.” He took a shaky breath and washed his hands quickly, before turning back to Roman. He allowed himself to fully assess the prince this time and… Jesus. He was slumped against the back of the tub, having given up his attempts at composure while he thought Virgil wasn’t looking. His litany of scrapes, cuts, bruising, his shallow breathing, and--most of all--the wet, red patch slowly growing on his shirt, sparked renewed panic in Virgil.

“Ok, fuck, ok--let’s do this,” Virgil said, mostly to himself, as he knelt down by Roman to undo his already tattered shirt and take a wet towel to his chest. He had to suck in a breath at the sight of the jagged wound, a nauseous feeling catching up to him.

“You’ve already done a lot, you know,” Roman insisted. “You can--”

“If you tell me to go, Princey, I swear I’ll make these wounds worse myself,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest, which he would assume Roman knew--but the way Roman flinched and shut his mouth told a different story. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t mean that!”

Roman glanced away, and Virgil reached to cup his cheek, an instinct he didn’t know he had. Luckily, he caught himself in time to retract his hand. They both avoided eye contact for a second; Virgil cleared his throat; and he reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before pausing. He vaguely recalled Logan mentioning how strong alcohols would only cause more harm, and they should just stick to mild soap instead. He gave the cut a longer look-over—it was certainly not a pretty sight, but probably not as bad as it looked. It was large, but not too deep. Plus, as sides, it would heal itself without needing anything like stitches or professional medical work. The past scars littering Roman’s body were proof of that. Actually--had he always had this many scars? Virgil squinted. How often did he do this?

Virgil finished cleansing and bandaging the wound to the best of his ability, with little talk beyond the occasional, soft “sorry” at Roman’s winces. When he had finished, he gave Roman his hoodie (an action the Prince was too tired to take much notice of), since summoning a new shirt seemed like a waste of whatever energy he had left.

“Ok, Princey, all done. Uhm, are you—how, how are you?” Virgil mentally kicked himself.

A small, bitter smile tugged at Roman’s lips for just a moment. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally shrugged. “Thank you for your help.”

It hurt, Virgil realized. Roman’s quiet voice, where near-shouting was his usual speech. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead, where it was usually styled to be very lightly and intentionally ruffled. The bags beneath his eyes where there was usually concealer. All of it hurt.

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I hope you know there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving yet.”

“Virgil,” Roman almost said it as a whine, which was closer to his usual style, so Virgil considered it progress.

“Roman,” Virgil deadpanned back.

Roman huffed. “Maybe I need space to really explore my feelings, and you’re actually being a terrible friend right now,” he argued.

“Uh-huh, well being a terrible friend is always my favorite, so,” Virgil leaned down, fumbling slightly as he picked Roman up bridal style, “We’re gonna get you to bed, and you can explore your feelings by sleeping.”

“Great, now you’re damsel-in-distressing me,” Roman said sarcastically, but he leaned his head into Virgil’s chest as he did so, which kind of ruined his point.

“Yeah, yeah. Act more like Megara next time, and maybe it’ll be different.”

•••

Roman groaned upon waking up. His whole body ached, but mainly it was focused around a sharper pain in his chest. He let his eyes flutter open, only to find Virgil staring at him from his desk.

“Ah,” Roman uttered, a jumble of memories from the past few hours returning. They felt foggy and mildly icky, but mainly the pain in them was the numb kind of pain, the tired kind. Really, it was indistinguishable from the dull ache of his bruises and cuts.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, as though he understood, even though he couldn’t possibly. “Uh, wanna talk about it?”

It was clear Virgil felt awkward asking the question. It was unclear whether that was due to his tendency to be embarrassed by everything he said, or—far more likely—that he wanted to stop babying a stupid prince, and just go about his business.

Roman sat up, suppressing a wince as best he could. “Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do.” Virgil said it without an ounce of hesitation. Roman’s breath caught.

“Oh.” Roman shifted slightly over, and Virgil took a seat by him on the bed. “Okay. Uhm. I don’t know, I just—I messed up.” What else was new?

“...What did you mess up?” Virgil asked, with an inkling of suspicion, like he knew what this was about. But it wasn’t that; it wasn’t the callback—that was over and done and dead. Roman had created so many fantasies, so many crazy scenarios where they could somehow still make it in that stupid movie, and it had always filled him with hope or crushing pain or something, but as of this afternoon? He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.

So, Roman ignored the question, and instead commented, “Janus got accepted.”

“What the fuck.”

Roman observed Virgil’s stricken expression like an unsettling kind of mirror of himself when—

My name is Janus.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I didn’t take it so well either.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, seeming to go through several series of emotions, before he was able to ask, “...What happened?”

Roman inhaled sharply. “I was wrong about being wrong about the wedding. Patton was also wrong; Janus was right, and then Patton was right because he wasn’t a total asshole to Janus, and I’m evil; Thomas hates me; whatever, you get it.”

He thought he would break down, saying it, but he felt oddly… fine. He sat, staring at the same spot as he was before, absentmindedly annoyed at the way his bandages itched. The normalcy of the situation almost made it worse. This sucked. This wasn’t even bad.This was the worst he had ever felt.

“Oook,” Virgil said, clearly not knowing where to start, “I—you—what do you mean: Thomas hates you?”

“Thought that one was self-explanatory.”

“He can’t hate you,” Virgil said with a laughable amount of conviction. “You’re still his… y’know.. goals. Desires. Hopes. Whatever. Just because this one didn’t go… perfectly, doesn’t mean you won’t keep—“ he struggled to find the phrasing for a moment— “...fighting, uh, valiantly for Thomas’s dreams!” he attempted at the encouragement with a weak smile.

Roman just shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he wants.”

Virgil’s smile dropped into confusion. “But… you are his wants.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Virgil seemed at a loss, and Roman felt like an asshole. Here he was trying to help him, and Roman couldn’t even be bothered to put on a smile to dismiss him from the duty.

“Please go,” Roman attempted weakly when he couldn’t find a more convincing argument in himself. He was meant to be an actor, but he knew he couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted him to stay, of course he did, so badly. He hoped Virgil would just quit with the chivalry and go despite that.

Virgil sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I'm going about this all wrong.”

Roman knew it probably wasn’t really him Virgil was mad at, but it was hard not to shrink away anyway.

“Look, Roman—“ Virgil turned to him, looked at him seriously, took his hands in his— “To be honest? I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who was right or wrong—I mean, we all know I’ve been in the wrong more than my fair share. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Roman didn’t miss the ambiguity of the end statement. “But… look, you don’t get it. When you mess up, you’re still you. You’re still...,” Roman gestured vaguely, which upset his bandages, and when he looked down at himself, he took note of the black/purple hoodie he was wearing. He melted slightly. This was exactly the point he was trying to make, “You’re still... y’know. Important.”

“Wh—? Of course you’re important, Ro. You’re creativity—“

“Thomas has two of those.”

Virgil looked at him like he was stupid. “Right, as if you’re anything like Remus.”

Roman’s lip quivered at that, and he had to look away, which was so stupid. And suddenly he felt all of the embarrassment at once—of this situation, of everything that had happened before, of the way he was about to cry, in front of Virgil, after he said that, which must look so—

“Roman?”

A hand was on his cheek, softly turning his face towards Virgil’s, though Roman still refused to meet his eyes.

Virgil cursed to himself under his breath. “Shit, this is exactly what I was trying not to say.” He sighed, and Roman hesitantly looked up at him. “Look. Even if you weren’t creativity, if you weren’t hopes or dreams or any of it—if you were a completely pointless side, which you aren’t, but if you were—I wouldn’t care. What I care about is that you’re... Roman. That you bother me until I sing Disney with you, that when you put your heart into something, you do it to a stupid amount, that you make Thomas take trashy buzzfeed soulmate quizzes when he’s stressed, and that you fucking try so hard for everything, even when I’m being a little bitch about it,” he paused. With the hand on Roman’s cheek, he traced the line of a scar down his jaw. It was one of the ones Roman usually made sure to put an illusion over, he noted offhandedly. “I care, because you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Roman choked out. He couldn’t handle it if it was a lie, and part of him couldn’t manage hearing it as anything but exactly that. “Just—just—“

“Oh, Princey..”

Virgil held him as he broke. Roman didn’t know how long they sat like that as he let everything wash over him for a final time, let it all truly sink in at long last. He took heaving, messy sobs, no doubt ruining Virgil’s shirt in the process—he was quiet, though. He shook silently, save a couple choked breaths, in the other’s arms--that was a habit he had taught himself long ago.

When Roman had tired himself out, when all that was left was the pain in chest, (which was also suddenly duller—he was healing fast, even for a side—) he pulled back from the embrace. Virgil didn’t move by much, kept them so their fingers were laced together, as they sat staring at each other.

“Uhm. Thanks,” Roman gave a shaky smile, “You really—uh... I... I said some stupid stuff, huh?”

Virgil hesitated before he spoke, as if he knew he shouldn’t ask this right now, but needed to anyway. “...Roman, why’d you go to the Imagination?”

Roman felt ice stab at his chest upon the question. He didn’t want to do this. They had already talked about so much that he shouldn’t have gotten into; this was meant to be the part where they either parted or watched a stupid movie. And this, out of everything, was the conversation he most needed to avoid.

“Uh—I mean, to let off steam?” Roman gave a laugh as best he could. “Obviously, it didn’t go to plan—“

“Didn’t it?”

Roman’s face fell immediately. He struggled to come up with an answer, and even if he had had one, he didn’t think the sound would come out. This was enough of an answer in itself

“Shit,” Virgil breathed. Roman couldn’t help but be mildly annoyed by his surprise—clearly he had already known, he didn’t have to make it a big deal now.

“I… Princey—Roman…” Virgil looked him up and down, and Roman wanted to curl up and hide. “...how many times?”

“Not many,” Roman mumbled. Virgil must have known he was pushing the subject too far, because he just frowned and said,

“OK. I mean...it’s not OK, obviously, but you already know that, I just—“ he sighed. “Just… can you talk to me? Instead? Please? When you feel like… that.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Roman responded hastily, wanting an out from this topic.

Virgil gave him a look. “I’m serious. I mean—look, you don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want. Just, come to me first, yeah?”

Roman’s face burned; he was embarrassed; he wanted to shrug this whole thing off, or roll his eyes, or maybe scream in annoyance. But the rational part of him knew Virgil was right. “OK,” he agreed softly, “...Thanks. For everything.”

Virgil looked surprised, and then flustered, and then waved off the earnest reply. “I mean, it wasn’t--I didn’t--it’s not like I did anything really--”

“You did.”

Virgil’s face softened. “Yeah, well... you’d’ve done the same for me. You... have done the same for me.”

Roman smiled gently at him. “By the way, Virge--” He hesitated. He was about to sound like a real dumbass if Virgil had only been saying this stuff for comfort’s sake. But making a fool of himself was becoming a theme for him anyway, so he continued, “You’re my best friend too.”

I love you.

In the same beats Roman thought it, Virgil squeezed his hand lightly 3 times. A breath passed between them. An understanding. That Roman couldn’t say it out loud, and Virgil wouldn’t.

Instead, Virgil fell back across the bed, bringing Roman with him in the motion. Roman let out a startled gasp and elbowed him lightly. “Hey! I’m injured, that could have been a fatal impact for me!” he whined.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah, OK. So, do you wanna watch a stupid movie, or what?”

[lumosinlove]

Relic Keel

(warnings in tags)

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL

Marlene got into college and hasn’t told Dorcas because she’s scared of how she will react.

Lily and James had sex and obviously like each other, but Lily is scared to have attachments on Hogwarts when they’re going to college soon.

Leo and Logan question each other about their pasts without much progress. Logan finds out that Leo hopes to own The Lion restaurant one day, and that his father’s death has something to do with “The Voldemort.”

Saint and Sirius talk about leaving the island and how they met when they were eleven years old. They have sex and avoid more difficult topics.

James and Lily meet at the Gryffindor Club as promised. Lily tells James that she doesn’t want anything tying her to the island, that she hates the fake boundaries that Hogwarts has and that James isn’t crossing them as much as he thinks he is. James understands, even though it hurts.

Saint and Sirius are cleaning the Potter’s pool when James arrives with Remus and Luke. Remus and Sirius have a tense moment in the kitchen, Luke and Saint argue, and Sirius finds out that it’s Remus who sails the Wolfsbane every morning—Remus thus finding out that Sirius notices.

Logan returns to the Carrows to hand over his money and stock up on Crucio. We find out that he works for them in the hopes that they will help him get Finn out of Saint Clair, only the Carrows are angry with him for using their Crucio—they say that Logan owes them now.

Logan heads over to Saint Clair to watch Finn from afar, and swears again that he will rescue him.

part iv

Remus closed his eyes, soaking in the morning sun and the salty air. The wind pushed his hair back as he tightened the rigging, catching the wind. Sometimes his sails felt like his bare hands. Like he finally had something to hold onto, even if it blistered his palms. The sea made him feel alone, in the best way. Usually, it felt like people were always around. He couldn’t go anywhere without running into at least two people from school, or his parents’ friends. Yes, he’s excited for college, no, he’s not sure exactly yet, yes, he’s still sailing, yes, he’s still obsessed, yes, he remembers learning at Gryffindor Club, sure, I’ll tell my mom you say hi.

Solidarity was less exhausting.

The wind buffered and he sighed as he slowed down. he looked back towards Shack Beach. Saint had said they saw him every morning—that Sirius saw him every morning. He wondered if Sirius was watching now.

He couldn’t see anything from this far away. Part of him wondered if he could make this island disappear completely, just for a moment. But it was dangerous to stray that far. Even The Cradle, the small U of islands just off of Hogwarts’ southern coast, was pushing it. Remus huffed out a laugh as he managed the ropes to come about, back towards shore. If that wasn’t a metaphor, he didn’t know what was.

Things on Hogwarts had become complicated in what felt like overnight, even though Remus knew that wasn’t true. They were older now. They didn’t just care about summer vacation. There was college to think about, and then jobs. Hogwarts wasn’t the dream it once was. Remus wanted to see mountains, and huge cities, or snow—and not just for a week on vacation. He wanted to belong somewhere because he wanted to be there, and not just because he had grown up there. He was tired of knowing everything there was to know.

He tied up his Wolfsbane on autopilot, stroking his hand over the side before tugging his shirt over his head and jumping straight into the water. It was cooler from the night, but it was what Remus needed. He held his breath as he found the sandy bottom, his eyes closed. For a moment, he didn’t have to be anywhere. He got to enjoy the ocean and its predictable changes.

When he came up for air, he remembered why he loved this island. That still didn’t mean he didn’t want to leave.

“Are you headed to the museum, sweetheart?” his mother said when Remus came down to the kitchen, freshly showered. He preferred to let the salt linger all day, but he figured he should be fresh for his first day of work.

“Yeah,” Remus held up his keys. “Just looking for some coffee first.”

His mom held up a mug for him, laughing. “Ask and you shall receive.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks, mom.”

“How was it this morning?”

Remus poured some milk into his cup. “It was good. Sun’s going to be strong today. Went near The Cradle—not too far, don’t worry.”

“You know me too well,” Hope laughed, whisking some eggs into a lather. “Well, it’s pizza night. We’re ordering in so, if you want to have some friends over and take it to the den, that’s fine with me. But don’t complain if Jules crashes the party.”

Remus nodded. “Actually, I think we’re going out. If that’s all right?”

Hope nodded. “All right, sure. Be safe, though. Who, uh…”

“James and Luke,” Remus sighed. “Mom—”

“I wasn’t going to say anything—”

“It’s not Luke’s fault,” Remus continued anyway. “His dad, I mean. He didn’t know.”

“I know that,” Hope sighed. “But…Even I can see that boy’s hurting and I barely see him at all.”

“Then shouldn’t he be with his friends?” Remus said.

Hope raised her eyebrows at him, and Remus raised his own right back.

“All right, all right,” Hope said. “You’re gonna be late, I’ll see you later, baby.”

Remus knew he should take the car his parents had given him. He knew he should get used to driving, knew his dad wondered why it just sat in the garage. But here, on the island, Remus liked his bicycle. He liked the warm breeze. It reminded him of being out on the water.

Which, in turn, now reminded him of Sirius Black.

When Remus remembered Sirius, he mostly remembered bruised cheeks and nasty looking cuts. He remembered the hushed way people used to whisper about him, and how, even when he was loud, grinning and well-liked, he was still from Salazar. Sometimes he had eaten lunch surrounded by people, and sometimes he had eaten it alone with his brother.

Remus didn’t understand this island. Was Sirius really so different because he was born a few miles South rather than North? It made no sense—only it did, but only because it was all Remus had ever known.

The Hogwarts History Museum was a pride of the island. Remus knew it well from school trips, and from his own interest. He’d spent many Saturdays there as a kid, gazing at all of the small models of ships and dreaming about what it would be like to sail them, wishing they weren’t trapped behind glass—feeling a little like he was trapped behind glass. A ship in a bottle.

“Hi there, Remus,” Layla smiled at him, green eyes kind and skin a rich, dark brown against the pale pink scarf in her hair.

“Hi, Layla,” Remus smiled. “Having a good summer so far?”

“Sure,” Layla shrugged. “Lots of time here. I saw you win the sailing race last Sunday, congrats.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks. It was real fun. Sorry I beat your brother, though.”

“Oh, Lyle doesn’t mind,” Layla waved a hand. Her nails were painted pink, too. “Don’t worry about it.”

Remus had been friends with Layla since they were little, competing for best in class usually. She was wicked smart and mellow. Remus could always use some mellow, good conversation—especially with James being James and Luke being…well, whatever Luke was now. Layla liked history, and her family owned the museum, which meant Layla told tales that were, albeit tall, fun to listen to.

Remus leaned against the desk, looking around. “This place never changes, huh?”

Layla laughed, clicking a pen. “History doesn’t tend to change that much, R, and so neither do we. Unlike the world out there.”

“I don’t know about that. Nothing ever feels too different out there,” Remus laughed, too. “But I guess you’re right. I’m glad you’re here, though. Or else I’d be sitting behind this desk by myself.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Layla nodded. “What made you take the job?”

Remus snorted as he rounded the corner, picking up his name badge where Beatrice, Layla’s mother and the museum curator, said it would be. “Don’t pretend we didn’t see each other here when we were little all the time. Not to mention at Gryffindor Club. You, obviously.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “Me and your mom.”

Remus winced and Layla laughed.

“C’mon, we both know you’d be out on your boat all day if it was up to you.”

Remus laughed. “Fine. But seriously. You’re a perk.”

Layla nodded, rolling her eyes with a smile. “Just a couple of history buffs, I guess.”

Remus shrugged. “There are worse things to be.”

The day was pretty slow. A few tourists here and there, taking photo behind the cardboard cutouts that made you look like you were dressed as a sailor, or a pirate.

“Are there really pirates here?” one little girl had asked Layla.

Remus had smiled when Layla crouched down and whispered to her, “careful, there’s one there,” and pointed at Remus.

When lunch rolled around, Remus expected Layla to pull out a bagged sandwich like him, but instead she scoffed and picked up her bag.

“Come on. We have to get out for a bit.”

Remus shrugged. “All right, where to?”

“The Lion, of course,” Layla replied. “It’s the best food on the island.”

“The Lion,” Remus repeated slowly. “You mean—in The Hollow?”

Layla gave him a look. “Oh, you’re not one of those are you?”

“One of what?” Remus said. “No. I’m not, I just… c’mon, you hear things.”

“Hear things? You’ve never been?”

“Once,” Remus swallowed, thinking of the fight. “It didn’t really go well.”

Layla just shook her head.

“History is just one great field of stories, Remus. You’ll never get to the truth unless you listen to them all.”

And so Remus found himself riding alongside Layla on their bikes and right through Gryffindor. The Hollow didn’t have a sign or anything, but you knew when you were in it. Remus almost wished he had been able to see some sort of line to cross, but everything was just suddenly different. Low houses with open doors, people gathered together and laughing. Kids running with surfboards over their heads, towards Shack Beach. It had seemed even more vibrant in the dark the night of the party, even through the tinted windows of Luke’s car. String lights hung over cookouts, and music blasting from speakers. It had smelled amazing, and Remus would have to say Layla was probably right about the food. 

The Lion was just as bright as everything else. It was bustling with lunch-goers, and the doors were flung wide, letting the heat right in. Remus looked around at the people. Some tourists, obviously. Some not. Hollows. Some of them smiled when they caught Remus’ eye, and some narrowed their eyes.

“Hi, Leo, babe,” Layla said as she slid onto a stool at the counter.

There was a blond boy behind it wearing a tank top and a snapback. He smiled as he set some shrimp down in a frier. “Hey, Layla, babe, ça va?”

“Just working. At least I’ve got Remus for company now.”

Remus smiled awkwardly when Leo fixed his blue eyes on him. He really didn’t know what he was waiting for. Something terrible to happen?

Leo only held out a hand. “Leo, nice to meet you.”

“Remus,” Remus said, and took it. He tried not to look at the rainbow bracelet on Leo’s wrist for too long, but he could tell Leo had felt the way his hand tightened. “Yeah—you, too.”

Leo touched it briefly, like an old habit, as he pulled away, giving another smile to Remus.

It didn’t necessarily mean Leo wasn’t straight, but on such a small island, Remus tended to notice these things. He and Luke had figured each other out pretty fast around sixteen. They’d kissed. Once. And then winced, laughed, and shoved each other in the pool. Sometimes Remus wished he and Luke had worked. He didn’t see any other boys coming his way. Leo was smiling at him like he knew what Remus was thinking.

“What can I get you two?” Leo asked.

A boyfriend? Remus thought wistfully.

“Two of your specials, please,” Layla said. “Re, you’re going to lose your mind it’s so good.”

“What’s your special?” Remus asked.

Leo shrugged, but he was grinning. “Like a chef ever gives up his secrets—”

Leo had stopped mid-sentence, eyes going over their shoulders towards the door. Remus turned to look, and a moment later, a brown haired boy was slinging a backpack down carefully between his feet and taking the seat beside Remus.

“Well, look who’s back,” Leo said to him.

The boy glanced at Remus and Layla, then gave a small shrug. “Yeah.”

Leo snorted. “Yeah,” he parroted. “You’re just hungry.”

The boy shrugged again.

Leo sighed, and gave Remus a look that said, can you believe this? before turning back to the stove. “This is Logan guys. Apparently he doesn’t talk today. Three specials. Coming up.”

~

Logan didn’t recognize the boy sitting at the counter. He didn’t recognize the girl either. Then again, he didn’t recognize many people. He didn’t know anyone. Except Dorcas—if that even counted. And Leo. If that counted, either.

The Felix was heavy in his pack, wedged protectively between his feet, and he wished the strangers would leave so that Leo would talk to him. He hadn’t said two words that weren’t him making sure that Logan liked his food, and asking him where he’d been.

Logan was a little annoyed with him for asking that question. It wasn’t like Leo didn’t know what Logan did. Then again, Leo didn’t know why Logan did what he did.

“You guys get the new madness exhibit up yet, Layla?” Leo was asking the girl with the scarf in her hair. “The one you were telling me about.”

The sandy-haired boy looked up from his food. “The madness exhibit?”

The girl—Layla—cocked her head. “Remus, you…you don’t know?”

“Know what?” the boy—Remus—replied.

Layla sat up a little, looking suddenly awkward. “Your mom donated almost everything we have. I mean…it is your family that’s famous for…”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Losing their fucking minds?”

Layla winced. “Well, yeah, okay, poor choice of words on my part. But madness isn’t always a bad thing, you know. People say people are crazy all the time. Sometimes they’re just extraordinary.”

Remus looked back down at his food. “My family’s not extraordinary, believe me.”

“Usually extraordinary-ness belongs to one person, I’d say,” Leo said. “My mom’s pretty extraordinary. Doesn’t mean I am.”

“You want to stay on this island, don’t you?” Logan found himself saying. Then, he felt his neck heat and he turned down to his food.

“What’s so extraordinary about that?” Layla replied at the same time as Remus said, “You do?”

Leo just laughed, rolling his eyes at Logan. “I’m with Layla on this one, guys, sorry.”

“What about you, Logan?” Layla asked. “I want the museum after I go to college. At least I think I do. Leo wants The Lion, Remus wants to sail the world…” Remus blushed at that, and Layla’s eyes were very green. “What do you want to do?”

Logan found it strange that they were treating him like that. So normally. Logan knew his necklace was on display. It was easier than explaining why people hadn’t seen him around and pretending to be a tourist. That lead to questions. Being abandoned didn’t. And he was. He was abandoned. People didn’t ask. Most probably thought he had just aged out. People didn’t ask. It was better that way. Logan didn’t have any answers. All he had was the memory of that last night with Finn. Finn had returned to their room, eyes wild and voice urgent.

Come on, Lo, wake up. Wake up, Logan, we have to go. Now.

Logan had felt helplessly awake in the first weeks of being out. He was still sorting through what that meant.

Logan swallowed. “I don’t know. I’m—looking for someone first.”

Remus sighed and mumbled. “Aren’t we all.”

“You are?” Leo asked softly.

Logan nodded. “Or, not looking. I’m just…I’m waiting for someone.”

He knew where Finn was, but Logan knew that he could wait forever and he wouldn’t come. Logan had to take what he wanted. It was a lesson he was learning fast.

“Oh,” Remus replied. “Um…cool. I hope you find them.”

Logan just nodded.

“Well, we should head out,” Layla said, rising. “Gotta get back to work.”

“Sure thing, just pay up front,” Leo smiled. “See you later, Layla.” He nodded at Remus. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Remus smiled back. “The food was great.”

Logan watched Leo watch them leave, then snort. “That guy looked more spooked than a horse with a snake.”

“Isn’t that what Gods are supposed to look like?” Logan replied.

Leo shrugged. “Usually you can’t see their eyes behind their aviators.”

Logan laughed a little. “Right.” he looked back down at his food, realizing he had begun picking his fries apart, rather than eating them.

“I’m looking for someone too, you know,” Leo broke the silence.

Logan did. Only, he hadn’t thought about it like that. Leo’s dad and Finn. Leo’s dad was probably dead. Finn wasn’t.

“I hope you find him,” Logan replied. “Your dad.”

The Lion was in full swing now, the lunchtime rush loud and boisterous. Leo had a tank top on, and Logan thought he looked a little tired. Sleeplessness showed easily on his skin.

“Do you have to run?” Leo asked instead of responding. “And hide? Like, from the police?”

Logan sat up, instinctively looking behind him. “I assumed I would have to. But…it hasn’t been that difficult.” He laughed a humorless laugh. “I guess I keep overestimating how much people actually care about me. Maybe I should have learned something by now.”

“Maybe you’re just looking at the wrong people,” Leo said quickly, and looked up with a smile, a small one, then down again. “I know a few others who got out. They don’t seem to have trouble, so, you know, if you needed a job or something, you could work in my mom’s workshop. With me. Or here. I’m sure Celeste and Pascal would be all right with it.”

Logan felt taken off guard. “Oh. I…” he thought of the powder packets in his bag. Of the Carrows. How much do you think you owe us by now?

Others? he wanted to ask. What others? 

“Just think about it,” Leo said, and turned towards one of the stove tops to check on some boiling water.

“Yeah. Okay.”

They sat in silence for a long moment.

“It’s a boat,” Leo began suddenly, answering Logan’s yet unasked question. The Voldemort. What his father had been looking for. It was almost like Leo was thanking him for telling the truth about his situation. An eye for an eye. A truth for a truth. Logan sort of liked that consistency. “Was a boat. In the eighteenth century.”

“Oh,” Logan said.

“Biggest story on Hogwarts,” Leo said. “Ten thousand pieces of gold, all fallen to the depths of the ocean just off of Hogwarts’ shores…and never seen again.”

“But if it’s just off the shore…”

Leo smiled a little, shaking his head. “But you have to know where off the shore. Otherwise, you have a whole circumference of miles and miles of open water to work with.”

“And your dad figured it out?”

Leo shrugged, expression closing off a little. “He thought he did.” He cleared his throat as he put an order on the counter for a waiter to take away, and ripped another piece of paper down from the line up to look at. “The Cradle. You know it?”

Logan shook his head.

“It’s a sort of…horse shoe shaped cluster of islands, just off of our southern tip.”

“Salazar,” Logan said quietly.

Leo nodded. “Salazar.”

“Your dad was a treasure hunter,” Logan said slowly. “He was looking for a treasure.”

“Yeah,” Leo said, flipping a crab cake in sizzling oil. “He was.”

“And did he find it? Do you want to find it?”

“I don’t know,” Leo whispered, busy hands stilling. “He never came home.”

Logan nodded.

“He wanted to find it,” Leo said softly. “Really badly. And I… I feel like I should.”

“And was he close?”

Leo glanced up from his knife. “Yes.”

“Leonardo,” a voice came suddenly, entering the restaurant. “What does your mother feed you, you gorgeous specimen?”

Logan froze. He knew that voice.

Leo rolled his eyes, and looked at the newcomers. “Fuck off, Saint. Hey, Sirius.”

“Hi,” a second voice came, and it was closer, almost beside Logan at the bar.

Leo’s eyes caught on Logan’s again, probably meaning to introduce him, but he stopped instead.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked.

But Logan just shook his head, and then the newcomers—Saint and Sirius—were leaning against the bar. Logan felt the breath beside him catch just as his own had, and he turned to look.

Logan thought the boy standing beside him looked different. Older. More muscular. Squarer jaw. But the same. Same eyes. Same shock of blond hair. Same warm, brown skin.

“Logan?” Saint breathed, his eyes disbelieving.

Logan went to open his mouth, when Saint’s arms were around him suddenly.

“It’s Saint,” he said softly, just for Logan’s ears. He squeezed him tighter. “God, you’re here.”

“Saint?” Logan whispered into his shoulder. No one had touched him like this in what felt like forever.

“Yeah,” Saint said. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Logan shrugged. “I…yeah, okay.”

“Knutty,” Saint’s serious expression morphed into a grin. He leaned against the counter, keeping his palm on Logan. “Handsome as ever.”

Logan blinked at Saint, then at Leo. “Knutty?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“Oh, Logan already knows not to do that,” Saint laughed. He tapped his cross necklace. “We’re practically brothers.”

“Oh,” Leo blinked. “Right.”

The other boy—Sirius—looked just as taken aback.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Saint called in a sing-song voice, looking at Sirius. “Order for us, won’t you? And get us a table? Logan,” Saint nodded towards the door. “Come hither.”

Logan was so thankful to see Saint, he nearly tripped while getting up. A familiar face. A familiar anything. Saint had gotten out almost seven years ago. He’d been there one day, in his bed, in classes, in the courtyard, and gone the next.

“Sweetheart?” Logan asked, glancing back inside at the dark-haired boy, Sirius.

Saint just put his hands on Logan’s arms, eyes more intent than Logan had ever seen them, then on Logan’s cheeks. “Holy shit, how did you get out?”

Logan felt his heart slow, then speed up. He swallowed dryly. “Finn. How did you?”

Saint ignored the question.

“Finn,” Saint repeated, nodding. “Of course. When?”

“About a month ago. And he—he’s still in there,” Logan said. “He’s…And I’m—”

“I hear you,” Saint said. He jerked his head over to the table. “Not now. Let’s get back.”

“Saint?” Logan asked again.

Saint rolled his eyes. “Leave it alone. For now.”

~

Saint hadn’t been ready. He hadn’t seen Logan in nine years, but he’d know his face anywhere. All eyelashes and sad, green eyes. A smile he wore with Finn only. He looked spooked now, and tired. They’d sat at the bar, watching one of Leo’s shifts go and another one come, then moved to a table. Watching it get dark outside now, Saint wondered where Logan had been living for a month.

He eyed the backpack that Logan held so protectively close, and thought of the way Dorcas did the same thing.

Saint had a bad feeling.

“So, how’d you two meet?” Sirius said, gesturing between Logan and Leo with a fry when Leo brought over more water.

“Party,” Leo shrugged after a moment of hesitation. “Shack Beach.” He jerked his head at Saint. “You two were there, judging by Sirius’ shiner. Could hear that fight at my house, probably.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I didn’t start it.”

“True,” Saint said, wondering how he had missed Logan that night. “Some God—albeit a beautiful one—thought we were selling Crucio.”

Saint flicked his eyes over to Logan. Sure enough, he blushed.

Saint cocked his head. “The horror. Dangerous stuff.”

Leo looked at Saint quietly, and glanced at Logan, then back to him. Saint nodded. Got it, it said.

“Well, would you look who it is,” said a deep voice from behind them, and then there were two strong arms around Saint and Sirius. Pascal placed a loud kiss on each of their heads.

“Eck,” Sirius laughed. “You smell like grease, old man.”

Pascal Dumais laughed. “Grease that feeds you, maybe. And who’s this?”

“Dumo, meet Logan,” Saint said. “Logan, meet Pascal. He owns the Lion with his wife, Celeste.”

“The most beautiful woman in the world,” Pascal said, accent heavy. “Logan, it’s nice to meet you.”

Saint watched Pascal eye Logan’s necklace.

“We were together at Saint Clair,” he supplied.

“Maybe not so loud,” Logan said harshly. “Saint.”

“Oh?” Pascal said, and squinted at Logan. “Who are you with now, mon cher?”

Saint watched Logan open his mouth, frozen, and was about to speak up when—

“Me,” Leo cut in. He looked down at the carrots he was chopping as he said it. “Me and my mom.”

Oh, Saint thought.

“Oh, Leonardo,” Saint sighed. “Un ange.”

“Not my name,” Leo said.

“I know.”

“Yeah,” Logan replied to Pascal’s still questioning gaze. “Yeah.”

“I see,” Pascal nodded. “Well, I’m happy you and your mother will have a helping hand now. I miss your father dearly, mon fils.” He smiled sadly at Leo.

Leo just nodded. “Yeah.”

“Him and his treasure, eh?” Pascal said. “A wonderful man. I miss going out on that boat of his.”

Leo’s smile was small, but fond. “Those were some of his favorite mornings.”

“Treasure?” Sirius asked.

“Black!” a new voice shouted. “Thank fuck.”

Saint looked up when Sirius did. James and Remus were barreling towards them from the dark outside.

“Good lord,” Saint said. “Rain, from Olympus. Water my crops, why don’t you.”

“James?” Sirius said. “What are you—”

James and Remus walked right up to their table—Remus looking slightly more reluctant. “We have a question.”

“How did you know we were here?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I mean, just…it’s a little out of your way, non?”

“Remus came here earlier, and when I told him—well, you’ll see—he said maybe you’d be here.”

Saint watched Sirius’ eyes narrow at Remus, confused. “Okay…”

“Well, it’s good to see you again, tweedle-hot,” Saint said to Remus. “Up close this time. We actually though you were going to sail right out of sight this morning.”

Sirius stepped on his toe beneath the table.

“Excuse me?” Remus choked out. “What the fuck did you—”

James blinked at Saint, then shook his head, as if to right his thoughts. “All right, setting every strange thing that comes out of your mouth aside for a moment —where is Dorcas?”

“Meadowes?” Logan chimed in.

James’ eyes turned on him. “You know her?”

Saint raised his hand. “I have the same question.”

“Well,” Logan hesitated. “Sure.”

“And she sells Felix,” James said, as if trying to confirm the information.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Says you.”

James sighed. “I’m not here to turn her in, Jesus, I just have a question.”

“Do…” Sirius was looking at Logan. “Do you sell…”

“What kind of question?” Saint cut in.

Remus spoke up. “A does-she-deal-to-Luke type of question.”

Saint laughed. “Deveaux?”

“You know who Luke is, Saint,” Remus sighed.

“Well, yeah I do, Lupin, he tried to buy off me,” Saint shook his head with a tisking sound. “Turns out he’s a prejudice piece of eye candy. Who knew.”

“Come on,” James sighed, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “Please, Sirius, come on.”

Sirius shrugged. “We don’t know who Dorcas deals to. We’re not involved.”

“If you did would you tell us?”

Sirius smiled, just a little. “Probably not. But I really don’t know.”

James sighed, sagging away from the table. He looked at Remus. “Fuck.”

“What were you hoping to accomplish here?” Sirius asked slowly.

“We—” Remus said, then sighed, too. “We were going to see if she would agree to stop. If it was her, if she would stop giving it to him.”

“We’d pay her,” James added. “Obviously.”

Saint scoffed, and Logan laughed a little, too, from beside him.

“Obviously,” Saint mimicked.

“We just meant—” Remus began.

“We know what you meant,” Sirius said.

Saint popped a fry into his mouth. “If we’ll clean your pools for a few bucks, we’ll grant you three wishes, too.”

“Jesus, Saint,” James groaned.

“Mary. Joseph—”

James ran his hands through his hair. “We’re sorry, we misspoke. We’re just trying to help our friend. His dad got taken to jail, his mom pops pills all day and night.  That’s already draining what little money the bank didn’t seize and if he wants to do anything with his life he needs a straight head. Just—fuck, we’re just asking.”

Saint prided himself on gathering information, but most of that were things he didn’t know. Luke’s dad had got taken away. But the pills? The financial distress? All of that paired with that guarded snarl the boy always seemed to wear…it almost made Saint feel sorry for Luke Deveaux. He almost said so.

Instead, he said, while twirling the cross around his neck. “Wow, he must feel like an orphan or something.”

“All right,” Remus sighed. “James, let’s just go.”

“What does he look like?” Logan said suddenly before they could turn to leave.

James looked a him warily. “Um. Sort of blond-ish. More brown-haired, I guess. Big guy, built and tall and all that. Oh, he’s got this green spot in one eye.”

Logan nodded. James raised an eyebrow. Saint waited.

“How much will you pay me to stop selling to him?” Logan finally said. He rose as he did, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “That’s a lot out of my pocket.”

“Logan,” Saint said, but Logan didn’t look at him.

James blinked. “I—oh. Oh, uh—God, what do you want? Two hundred?”

"One grand,” Logan said.

James laughed. “Dude. Who the fuck are you? No, I don’t have that much just—on me.”

“Logan,” Saint warned again, and this time Logan did look at him. Saint shook his head softly.

“Fine,” Logan said through his teeth, and held out his hand. “Two.”

James took his wallet out and handed over the cash.

“Thanks,” Remus said from a little behind James’ shoulder. “Really.”

Logan just nodded, shoved the bills into his pocket, and headed for the door.

“Pardon,” Saint sent a grin to them all, and followed him.

Once they were outside, Saint gave him a wack on the back of the head.

“Fuck,” Logan swore. “S—”

“You get out of that shit-hole and you go around selling Crucio? To Gods?”

“I—”

“I mean, seriously, what the fuck was that? Do you know how not careful that was?”

“I don’t even know who that boy is,” Logan bit back.

Saint blinked. “What?”

Logan looked out towards the ocean where they could hear the waves crashing against the shore. “He offered to pay, and so I told him what he wanted to hear. When his friend shows up hallucinating next, that’s their problem.”

Saint scoffed. “Fine, okay, clever boy. But you do sell Crucio.”

“Felix,” Logan countered. “And yes.”

“Crucio. And no.”

Logan shrugged. “I need the money.”

“For what?”

Logan looked at him and, this time, his eyes were hard. Desperate. “For Finn.”

Saint froze. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. “Excuse me?”

“If I can get enough cash, I can get Finn,” Logan said.

Saint stared at him, and then Saint laughed. Then, he laughed louder.

“You’re shitting me,” Saint said. “You think that?”

“What do you…”

“You think you can buy Finn out?” Saint repeated incredulously. “You think you can walk back in there and buy Finn out.”

Logan took a breath. “He—”

“Logan, Jesus Christ,” Saint snapped. “You walk anywhere near that place and you are never getting back out.” Saint pressed a hand to Logan’s shoulder and shook him. “Do you hear me?”

“I need to do something,” Logan shouted back. “I need to do something, I can’t just leave him in there, he’s everything to me.”

Saint shook his head. “He got you out. Don’t waste that.”

Logan nodded, eyes bright with tears now. “And you know he got punished for it. You know he did—”

“Stop,” Saint spat, glancing around, as if anyone could hear. “Don’t.”

“You could help me,” Logan said, wiping his nose. “Bash, you got out once—”

“No,” Saint said, and turned away. “No. And don’t call me that. Don’t you ever call me that.”

“Please,” Logan begged. “Please—Saint.”

Saint whirled on him again. “I am never going near there, and neither are you. Finn’s still in there, fine. But he’ll need to get himself free like us if he wants it bad enough.”

“I owe money,” Logan began, then his breathing hitched. “I owe them, I took some of it to see—to see Finn and…Bash—Saint—”

“Them?” Saint took a step forward. “Them?”

Logan pressed a hand over his eyes, but Saint walked forward and pulled it away.

“Logan,” he said lowly. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Logan closed his eyes, mouth twisting against his tears.

“Tell me, right now, that you didn’t let the Carrows tell you they’d help you. And that you didn’t believe them.”

Logan shook his head, not in negation, but in defeat. “I need him. I need him, I’m so…I’m alone.”

Saint pulled Logan against his chest and let him cry. The sobs heaved out of him for a long while, until the collar of Saint’s shirt was wet. Until Logan was breathing softly again, exhausted, and until his voice sounded shot when he spoke.

“You’re really staying with Leo?” Saint asked, more gently this time.

Logan nodded.

“I have a place, too. Here, in The Hollow. If you want.”

“With the others?” Logan rasped.

“What others?”

“How many others are out?” Logan said softly.

Saint shook his head, fingers in Logan’s hair. “Just me, that I know of.”

“You still wear it,” Logan said, pulling back to look at him. “The cross.”

Saint let his hands drop with a last touch to Logan’s hot cheek. “So do you.”

They were both silent.

“I’m sorry about Finn,” Saint said rigidly. “I know how much he meant to you.”

Logan’s brows pulled together. “He’s not dead.”

Saint nodded. “Right.”

“Saint…” Logan began, and Saint heard the almost B instead. “Would you—just thinking about it—“

“No,” Saint said, and then turned and went back inside.

Sirius, back at the table, looked at his face, and then at his wet shirt.

“Okay?” he asked softly when Saint sat down.

“Just dandy,” Saint replied, and looked towards the door. Logan was gone.

[muldj0rd]

Hot When You're Angry || Logalex

Summary: In which Logan takes it out on Alex that he's not able to drive during the Australian Grand Prix

Warnings: anal, anal fingering, unprotected sex, hate sex, thigh grinfing, spit as lube, nipple play, making up, overstimulation

Masterlist || AO3

Logan was absolutely furious. Williams had taken Logan's chassis and given it to Albon, just because he couldn't drive and crashed

James had told him to suck it up and deal with, seeing that Alex was the better driver between the two of them, but how could he just let it go when Logan was now sitting the race out?

He wanted to take it out on Alex, one way or another

He walked out of his hotel room and next door on Alex'. He knocked harsher than indented, trying to catch his breath before the door opened

"What do you want?" Alex asked, still annoyed from the way they were fighting about it earlier the same day

Logan walked into the hotel room, pushing Alex back, closing the door behind him harsher than he wanted to

"This is all your fault, Alex. If you had just learnt how to drive and not crash, i would still be racing tomorrow" He was beyond angry "You're Williams' golden boy. Get's everything served to you on a silver platter. Not having to lift a finger to do anyth-"

He got cut off by Alex' lips on his. His hands on his jaw, pulling him in "You're hot when you're angry, you know that?" Alex said, smiling slightly

Logan's lips were slightly open, surprised by both Alex' words and actions. She looked all over Alex' face

"God, you're annoying" Alex didn't get to react to his words before Logan's hands were on his waist, pulling him in to kiss him

This kiss was nothing like the first. This one was hungry, wet, and sloppy, but none of that seemed to be mattering to both of them as Logan had pushed Alex up against the nearest wall

Logan's thigh was slotted in between Alex' as his lips traveled from his mouth, over his jaw and down to his neck, softly nibbling at his skin, pulling out soft sounds from the other

"Logan, please" Alex whimpered as he started grinding down on Logan's thigh, giving him friction he never imagined getting in this situations

"What, Alex? What are you begging for?" Logan asked in a teasing tone, softly sucking onto the skin below Alex' ear, drawing out a soft moan from him

"I want you to fuck me, please. Want you to take all your anger out on me. Please" He begged, his hips speeding up, his body shaking by the sensation

"Oh, that's what you want?" He asked in a teasing tone, soothing the mark he had made with the wetness of his tongue

"Fuck, yes. Want it so bad" Alex nails dug into Logan's biceps, hurting from his nails if it wasn't for his shirt

"Lift your arms" Logan said as his hands tugged on the hem of Alex' shirt. He pulled it over his arms throwing it on the floor. His lips immediately went to his now hard left nipple, tongue flicking over it as his fingers were on the other one, drawing whimpering moans from Alex

"Logan" He whimpered, his hips shuttering as his orgasm was nearing, just from grinding on Logan's thigh

"Alright, baby. I got you" Logan said, pulling back from Alex' nipples, instead he unbuckled Alex' belt, unbuttoning his pants and zipping them down, letting them pool at his ankles

Logan pulled Alex away from the wall, guiding him over to the bed, pushing him down to softly lie on it. He kissed down his body, stopping at the edge of his boxers. His fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling them down his legs, throwing them to the floor

"You got lube?" Logan asked as he started kissing the insides of Alex' thighs

"No. Why the fuck would i? Didn't expect to get laid this week" Alex said, fisting at the sheets beneath him, the feeling of Logans lips almost too much for him

"We'll have to do with spit, okay?" Logan said, his mouth getting closer and closer to where Alex needed him the most

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just- please" Alex' back was arched and Logan almost laughed at the desperation in his voice

"So needy" Logan chuckled, taking his fingers into his mouth, getting them nice and wet while holding eye contact with Alex, making the other man moan softly at the sight in between his legs "Fetch me pillow"

He took the pillow from Alex, putting it under his hips. Logan put his hand on Alex' hip, holding him still as the finger that was covered in his spit slowly entered him, drawing out a whimper from the man below him

He started slowly twisting his finger inside him, slowly getting him stretched out enough for him so that he could slowly start thrusting the finger in and out of him

When he could easily thrust his finger, he added a second, spitting down to where they were connected, giving it more ease to slip in and out

Alex had started whining at this point, wanting more from Logan than what he was giving him at the moment

"Logan, more please. Please, need more" He whined, his eyes closed while his head were rolled back into the pillow behind him

"Take it easy, baby. Need to stretch you out first. Wouldn't want to hurt you" He said in a hushed tone, too calm for Alex' liking

He curled his fingers once, hearing Alex loud moan as he pushed against his prostate, before he added the third finger, curling them at a rapid speed, watching as Alex' body shook beneath him, loud moans spilling from his lips which he was sure could be heard through the whole hotel

Logan gave Alex one last curl of his fingers against his prostate before he pulled out of him, earning a loud whine from him. Logan chuckled at this as he pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground, his hands immediately going to his belt, unbuckling it as well

Logan smiled slightly as he saw the way Alex almost drooled at the sight of Logan undressing himself, almost naked in front of him

Alex moaned softly when Logan was fully naked in front of him, in between his legs. Logan grabbed Alex' thighs, putting his legs around his hips before putting his hand up to his mouth

"Spit" He demanded. Alex hesitated, but did it anyways, wanting to feel all of Logan inside of him

Logan groaned as he felt the warmth of Alex' spit on his cock, stroking himself slowly, getting himself nice and wet, easing the slip into Alex

As Logan lined himself up with Alex' entrance, his legs tightened around him, pushing Logan closer, pushing just his tip into him, making him whine

"Fuck, you're so tight" Logan groaned, pushing all the way into Alex "Even after i stretched you out so beautifully" He smiled, hearing Alex' soft whimpers fall from his lips

The first few thrusts were difficult, seeing the lack of lube, but as Logan pulled almost all the way out, and spit down on his cock, the slip had gotten easier and less dry, giving both of them more pleasure

Logan readjusted his hips, now hitting Alex' prostate with every thrust, pulling loud moans from him as he did

He leaned over Alex' body, putting his hands beside his waist, making Alex grab his biceps, pushing his nails into his skin, most defiantly leaving marks for tomorrow to see and feel

"Fuck" Logan moan, barely able to be heard over Alex' moans "Feel so good around me" He chuckled, seeing the way the man under him was a trembling, moaning mess, all because he thought his teammate looked hot while angry

"Please, Logan. So close, please. N-need to come, please. Touch me, please" God, did he sound so good while begging, Logan couldn't possible say no to that

He spit in his hand, wrapping it around Alex' cock, seeing his hips now shutter at how close he were to his orgasm

Logan groaned as Alex clenched around him as he started moving his wrist, giving him pleasure that was unimaginable about an hour ago

"Logan" Alex whispered in between his moans "Gonna- I need… Please. S'close" He was pathetic. Unable to form any proper sentences

"Come for me, baby" He said in a teasing like tone, knowing damn well he was long from done with him

Logan's name fell from Alex' lips in a loud moan, his wrist speeding down as come dripped down it, as well as landing on Alex' stomach and lower abdomen

Logan kept thrusting into him, but at a slower pace, making Alex squirm, whine and whimper from the overstimulation

"Logan" Alex whimpered, his body shaking as he covered his face with both his hands "Can't- please. I can't- please, too much" Before he could realize Logan had pulled out, he had been flipped over, ass in the air, and Logans hands on his hips and pushed into him again

"Just let me finish, baby" He murmured as his lips were between the other's shoulder blades, pressing soft kisses into his skin

He had yet to move again, waiting foe Alex to confirm. He finally did with a low hum and a nod from his head, Logan wasting no time to start moving

Logan started moaning as Alex clenched down around him, making him move faster, but causing him to hit Alex' prostate at every thrust, making his body shake rapidly from the overstimulation, as well as whine

"Fuck, almost there, baby. Just a little bit longer" He managed a hand full of thrusts more before he was coming deep inside of him

He pulled out of Alex, letting him lay down, cuing Logan to lay down beside him. They both said nothing as they waited for their breaths to slow down and be back to some what normal

Logan was the first the get up. He went to the bathroom, getting a damp towel, and went to clean them both up. Alex whined as the towel made contact with his hole, making him grab tightly around Logan's wrist

"It's okay, baby. I got you" He said, softly cleaning him up before discarding of the towel somewhere on the floor with their clothes as well "Do you want me to leave?" He asked, looking at Alex who had almost dozed off into sleep

"Could… Could you stay?" He asked softly, just wanting to be held in Logan's arms. Just for now

"Yeah. Of course" He said, getting both himself and Alex under the blanket, pulling his naked body flushed against his

[canvas-the-florist]

Not Very Realistic

Ships: platonic prinxiety, platonic logince,

Warnings: Car accident, injuries, PTSD, swearing, food mention,

Summary: Roman considers his feelings about his car accident. This is basically a vent fic about a car accident I was just in, I’m okay, but that does mean it will be extremely full of angst and if that’s not your thing I wouldn’t recommend this specific story. AO3 Link

Word Count: 2.5K

-

    There’s something weird about trauma that Roman just didn’t understand. He knew that logically, that the car had crashed, but he wasn’t a very logical person. Even looking at the wreckage in full, talking about what happened to his family, part of him still refused to believe that none of it had happened. Despite looking at the cuts showing blood on his hands were right there as evidence. None of this felt real, but it was. How does he deal with that?

Roman ran his hands through his hair. It had been a few hours. His arm had gotten washed up. He was completely fine, except for a few bruises around his fingers. But was he fine? Roman had stopped crying a while ago and mostly just felt denial. Thoughts in the back of his mind were whispering ‘you wouldn’t crash a car, you wouldn’t make that kind of mistake’ and ‘you didn’t even break a bone, car accidents are worse than that.’ They were silenced when Roman breathed in, almost believing he smelt the smoke. Everything should have been fine, but he had gone and messed it up. He didn’t want to, he genuinely thought that things were going to be okay.

    But they weren’t, and they aren’t.

    It had been a few hours since the accident. Roman felt like he should be more phased. A car accident was an extremely traumatic event that he had experienced that same day! And all he could think about was the fact he couldn’t remember what it felt like. Roman knew what happened before; He was trying to make a turn on a green light and didn’t see the other car. And he also knew what happened after; calling Patton in a panic because he made a mistake he forgot that can just happen to anyone. Roman remembered the police officers and his family rushing to him, asking him what had happened, only for him to choke out that he didn’t know. He laid back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. Realistically, he had been extremely lucky and he knew that. Car related accidents kill so many people every day. And he just spent one afternoon watching his car getting towed before going home without saying anything.

    Logan said that it wasn’t productive to think about how past events could’ve better played out. But, Roman wasn’t a logical person. He couldn’t help but imagine it. Replaying how he reacted. He could’ve been looking better, he could’ve registered how the fucking rules of the road work. Hell, he could’ve been quieter instead complaining about whatever song Virgil was playing on bluetooth. He rolled over to the side that was less hurt and took a breath.

    Virgil. He bit the inside of his cheek. This entire event wasn’t okay, and was absolutely Roman’s fault. Virgil shouldn’t have been stuck with the consequences of someone else’s actions. Roman’s thoughts helpfully reminded him that he had been in an accident, something that his brain decided to forget to process once more. Roman felt so incredibly guilty for all the pain he put everyone in. He knew that he was hurt too, but did that matter? It was all his fault, anyways.

    The door creaked open and Roman heard someone clear their throat. Roman looked up to see the other victim of the car accident. Virgil seemed tired and awkward in the doorway. “Logan made food. Said eating and drinking water can help with the effects of everything.”

    “Okay,” The way his voice croaked out the word sounded like Roman’s mouth forgot how to form words and he hadn’t had water for a decade. He cringed at the sound of it. Roman started to say something, an apology maybe? But Virgil started closing the door. So he whispered another sentence. “I’ll be right out.”

            Time and time throughout the day Roman could go from joking about what had happened, to feeling bad about it, to almost completely forgetting about it entirely. He felt weirdly guilty about his own emotions about it. Like he wasn’t reacting necessarily as he should. Roman couldn’t even tell how he felt about it all, he was just tired. Too much had happened and his body was tired of experiencing all these things. So it wasn’t, not properly anyway.

    By the time the sun had set, Roman was sitting outside, watching the clouds go by, not really putting any effort into thinking. And still his mind was bombarding him with fear, pain, and guilt. So much guilt to the person in the other car, and to Virgil, who had to experience it with him. Mostly he felt guilty to everyone around him for having to deal with it because he was too busy being sorry that he couldn’t move or breathe. He wasn’t crying anymore, and his breathing was fine. But it didn’t feel like that. Should he be in more pain? Is that something that he deserves? If you’re going to wreck a car, why go for the simplest way to do it? Car crashes feel like a very dramatic experience so why does Roman feel underwhelmed?

    Everything was too much or too little for his brain and Roman wasn’t sure how to handle it. He held himself with his arms, wondering why this had to happen. If he hadn’t been overly ambitious for once, this wouldn’t have happened. Right?

    “How are you feeling, Roman?” Logan asked him. Roman had almost completely forgotten that he was there. Roman blinked and gave a huge smile.

“Well, specs, can’t say that I planned for any of this to happen.” Roman shrugged, his smile dropping as he looked down. His arms loosened up. Logan nodded, like he wanted Roman to open up about everything. Or maybe just to show that he was listening. “I was so sure that I wasn’t going to get hurt. Which isn’t true and I know that. Everyone can get hurt, I was caught up in some sort of main protagonist complex that I didn’t even realize that my mistakes matter. I fucked up and I don’t know if I can move on. My brain isn’t even letting me confirm that it happened, despite me knowing that it did. I blinked and the car was full of smoke.”

    Roman laughed bitterly, and Logan furrowed his eyebrows in concern, but didn’t say anything. “I didn’t even register what had happened until Virgil told me to get out of the car. I truly don’t believe that I would’ve moved without him. Which is pathetic. I caused that accident but Virgil had to take charge of the situation because my brain wasn’t able to process it. And now I don’t know how I’m going to react to having to drive again! What if I fuck up and this time it’s even worse? None of this feels okay but I don’t know what to do…”

    “Do you want advice?” Logan asked, calmly. 

    He decided to nod, focusing on trying not to cry instead of speaking. 

    “Alright. I believe that some of your thinking is similar to the cognitive distortion called ‘catastrophic thinking’. Catastrophic thinking is when after a person experiences a traumatic event starts reacting to every possible danger at the same level of the event they experienced. This is because it takes away the thinking that you’re constantly safe and not going to get hurt, so your brain is trying to make you feel safer by taking your ability to EVER get put into danger, which is not something that you can avoid.” Logan took a breath and stopped to make sure that Roman was still following. He was looking down at his fiddling hands, repopping his fingers repetitively. “You’re going to have to slowly break through this habit of thinking by giving yourself alternatives that aren’t just ‘safe’ or ‘dangerous’ because that is not how the world functions.”

    Roman nodded, mostly to himself while Logan was talking. “Okay.” His voice was smaller than he wanted it to be but he was too tired to attempt to change that. Roman stood up shakily, not from the accident, but from his own fear enveloping his head. “Thanks Logan, I mean that, I really appreciate this. I’m going to try going to bed now.”

    “Of course, Roman.” Logan responded, as Roman opened the backdoor back to the inside. He made no attempt to move, just watching his friend walk away from his sight. “I am here for you whenever you need me.”

    As the door closed, Roman could see that the sky had gone dark as the sun disappeared.

    Virgil had apparently decided to check on Roman one last time before going to bed. If him walking in after knocking a few times meant anything that is. Roman made eye contact with Virgil, wondering if that was going to be the end of their friendship. He would completely understand if it was, seeing as how badly everything had gone. Roman took a deep breath and got ready for any chastising that could occur.

    “Princey?” He tensed up, waiting for Virgil to finish. “Are you okay? Today was… a lot.”

    Oh, huh. “I mean, not really, but that doesn’t matter as much. How are you feeling? It wasn’t your fault that the whole thing happened. I’m so sorry.”

“Dude, I know you’re sorry.” Virgil stated, sitting on the bed next to Roman. “I didn’t ask about that. I know you didn’t mean to crash a car, that isn’t your thing. And the question was kind of a formality anyways. I just wanted to know if you were open to talking about it.”

    Roman groaned. “All I’ve DONE today is talk about it. It’s the only thing in my head and my brain is still trying to convince me that it didn’t happen.” He fell backwards onto the bed, while Virgil watched him without a readable expression. “It’s all so much but also just… Just not. Y’know?”

    “Yes,” Virgil said plainly. “I do know. Believe it or not, I was there. And I don’t blame you, man. You made a mistake. One that might traumatize us, but I’m not going to hold that against you. We’re both equally messed up here.”

    The two laughed, and Virgil laid down next to Roman. Roman took a breath, something he wasn’t able to do when talking to the police. While looking at the ceiling he decided to think out loud. “Can you believe how many people honked at us when we got out of the car? I mean I know it was in the middle of an intersection but also the car was like half destroyed. The audacity is unreal.” He vaguely remembered hearing some of those cars stop to call 911, and the words of what they said echoing in his mind. 

    Virgil rolled his eyes dramatically. “I know. Two cars, one on the sidewalk and the other in the road after the car crash, how dare we be focused on other things than what everyone else needs to get done? I’m actually surprised how well we held it together for a while, before we both started crying on the concrete, at least.”

    The room stayed silent for a while, both of them still processing what happened to them. Roman was tired of every moment of silence being interrupted with thoughts of the accident. He remembered yelling out as soon as he saw the other car and it was too late. One moment they were going to go shopping, and the next he blinked to see the airbags and smoke coming from everywhere. When Patton, Logan, and Remus arrived he was sobbing apologies into their shoulders, wanting to believe that none of this was real. It certainly didn’t feel like it. Roman wiped off the tears that were starting to form and looked at Virgil.

    “How do we move on from this? This is just… So much.” Roman asked. Virgil had been in a few car accidents as a child, some better and some worse. Still traumatic.

    “Well,” He started. “It took a while, and I mostly associated the fear of being in a car to the exact situation I was in. Like an icy road or something. But this just… happened. And there’s nothing we can do to change that. We… I don’t know what we’ll do, but we can figure it out.”

    Roman tried not to look discontented. “That’s not exactly as well thought out as I would like, I kind of just want to move on. How can I focus on the future when every other thought is reminding me that we could have died?! We could have killed that person and our future and their future would have been ruined. I should’ve waited, I should’ve looked, I should’ve-!” He sat up, and Virgil soon followed. Roman wasn’t crying but he looked like he was about to. Virgil held his arm and he fell limp onto the side of his friend. “I just wish it didn’t happen at all.”

    “No one wanted it to happen,” Virgil muttered. “It just did, and we have to accept that.”

    “I don’t want to,” Roman complained weakly. “None of this is fair.”

    There was no arguing that, and both of them knew it. Time kept passing by while the two considered everything. The topic could get distracted or happy, but eventually it would lead back to the car wreck. Evidently, it was going to be on their minds for a long time. Roman didn’t exactly enjoy the fact he couldn’t automatically move on, but tried to take what everyone had else said to heart. It was okay to acknowledge that the accident sucked without letting it control him, however long that took. Virgil left the room to sleep and suggested aggressively that Roman should do the same. He didn’t even notice that it was late until it was pointed out to him.

    Lights were turned out, and Roman curled up in a fetal position under his blankets. He still felt kind of sore, more so than he did a few hours earlier. That also wasn’t fair, but whatever. Roman was supposed to be accepting things, so he could start healing. He moved around to try and get comfortable with little success. 

    Trauma was weird to Roman. One moment everything was fine until it wasn’t. One moment you could be having an entire mental breakdown over a small mistake with big consequences, and the next you’re under the covers like nothing had happened. But all of this was normal, and he was allowed to be like this. Allowed to react to the events that occurred. It would take a long time, and maybe that was okay too.

Taglist: @ghost-in-haunting @logan-sanders-enthusiast @imjustvibingyaknow @hailcap85 @brilliant-and-a-bit-mad

[snek-snacc-ficc]

Snuggles, Science, and Sarcasm

Summary: The couples of the mindscape take the afternoon off to spend with each other.

Pairings: Moceit, Intrulogical, Prinxiety

Warning(s): Brief mention of blood

Words: 791

Patton yawned, blinking blearily up at Janus. The two had fallen in and out of sleepy consciousness on the couch too many times to count for the past few hours, and both had decided it was the best way to spend the day after having a breakfast large enough to feed the entire mindscape twice over. Patton shifted to glance down at his watch, a soft smile gracing his lips at the sight of Janus’s fingers intertwined with his own.

“Mm,” he hummed, “It’s two-thirty honeybee, we should really get up and...and do something.” His words were overtaken by another yawn and he fell back into the position he was in before, nuzzling further into Janus’s chest.

Janus let out a small hiss in response and, without opening his eyes, extended the rest of his arms out, wrapping them around Patton and pulling him closer.

“We did the dishes earlier,” he said, speech heavy and slurred with sleep. “We earned this. Self-care.”

He pressed a few lazy kisses to Patton’s forehead, who closed his eyes once more, perfectly satisfied to allow that as a good enough excuse.

The pair had nearly dozed off once more when they were abruptly shaken awake at the sound of Logan and Remus popping into existence in front of them. 

Logan’s usual attire was covered by a lab coat and Remus had on nothing but boxers and toe socks. Alarmingly, his bare chest was covered in blood and stitches, but neither seemed to pay any mind to it. 

Logan was furiously scribbling down notes on a clipboard, and immediately transferred himself to the table near the kitchen, opening up the laptop that sat there and typing just as quickly. Remus on the other hand slid into the kitchen, his tentacles bursting from his back and shuffling through every drawer and cabinet.

“Steak or fillet knife?” he called out, holding both up.

“Fillet,” Logan said, not bothering to look up from the screen.

Remus turned his attention to the refrigerator next. 

“We need something acidic,” Logan said, still glued to the document.

Remus shuffled through the shelves on the side of the door, knocking everything out of place.

“Will lemon juice work? Hey does something become more or less acidic when it expires?”

“Yes, that's fine.” Logan opened another tab on his computer, “And I’ll add that question to the list. Don’t forget to grab the salt, it helps draw out infections.”

A moment later Remus sped back into the living room, items in hand. He wrapped four tentacles around Logan as he continued to type. He reached out a hand for the clipboard he had dropped while being scooped up, and Remus grabbed it as well.

Janus and Patton had watched the scene play out with wide, concerned eyes on the couch, and it was Patton who finally spoke up.

“Hey kiddos, wh-what's going on?”

Remus and Logan answered at the same time.

“Science.”

“Nerdy shit.”

And as quickly as they had come in, they sunk out. Janus and Patton stayed silent after they had left, throwing each other an identical confused look. After a second though, they both decided it wasn’t worth thinking too hard about, and happily settled back down on the couch.

The noise had not gone unnoticed from upstairs. Roman sat up from his place at Virgil’s shoulder, startled at the sound of a large crash. 

“What is going on down th-” The sound of his brother’s shouting from below answered his question. “Nevermind.”

They turned their attention back to the movie they had been watching.

Virgil sighed. “Can we ever enjoy a movie without your sarcastic commentary?”

“Is his name Taran because all of these voices are tearing through my ears?”

“It’s not my fault you said you’d only watch a Disney movie if it was The Black Cauldron.”

“Hey, the movie would have been a lot better if Disney hadn’t been too afraid to scare kids a little and cut out all the cool parts of the Horned King’s army.”

Roman rolled his eyes, wriggling his way to cuddle into Virgil’s side like they were a teenage couple at the movie theater. 

“Is that what you’d wear to save me, my dark and stormy knight?” Roman asked when Taran imagined his warrior uniform in the water’s reflection.

“Pfft,” Virgil huffed, “Can you get any more sappy?”

“You love it,” Roman said smugly, leaning in towards Virgil.

“Shut up Princey,” he said, closing the gap between their lips. A look of satisfaction settled across Roman’s face, the movie becoming white noise in the background to both of them.

As the afternoon wore on, the feeling of content happiness, chaos, and love could be felt throughout every corner of the mindscape.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Hypothetically,

Ao3,   MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Intrulogical, Platonic Logince

It is about! Damn! Time! That I wrote some Intrulogical! Also, y’all already know my stance on platonic logince,,,, guys they ARE best friends i’m sorry I don’t make the rules.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending). mentions of stuff like autopsies and nuclear explosions in the context of like experiments- they do stuff in The Imagination, basically. Panic attack (?). Hurt/comfort. Pretty heated kissing; It’s more intense makin’ out than I usually write but it isn’t anything explicit at all, don’t worry! ADHD Remus and Autistic Logan. Cursing- like So Much Cursing. Mentions of space, deep sea, etc. Food mention.

Word count: 6,769

There was a conundrum. 

A., Logan needed to use the Imagination. B., He could not use it on his own, considering that he was Logic. C., Roman was nowhere to be found. The answer to what was frustrating Logan at that moment would be all of the above.

To be clear, he didn’t like going into the Imagination. It was simply the only suitable place to perform his ‘experiments’. His very necessary, very distracting experiments. But, as stated, Roman was God-knows-where doing God-knows-what. 

Logan sighed at the door, as though it was the inanimate structure’s fault. The cracks gleamed obnoxiously bright, golden light pouring out from behind the door in a somewhat eerie manner. It was a nonsensical, unrealistic, completely insignificant place, and he wanted in.

Logan was contemplating asking Janus for help (lies took imagination, right?) when, out of nowhere, an arm was thrown around his shoulders. Literally an arm, disembodied and oozing sick-smelling blood onto the carpet. Ah. Wonderful. 

“Hello, Remus,” he pulled the appendage from around him, holding it at arm’s length (no pun intended, dammit). 

“Hi!” Remus took his arm back and reattached it with a disturbing crunch, a grin stretching his face. He sidled up to Logan, imitating the side’s stance in front of the door. 

“Can I help you with something?” the logical trait tilted his shoulder away from where Remus had pressed against him. 

“Not unless you’re willing to get really messy- but I can help you!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re implying.”

The Duke rolled his eyes, promptly flinging the door to The Imagination open. An encompassing energy radiated into the common room, corrupting the usual neutrality of the space. It didn't last long before Remus grabbed Logan’s wrist and dragged him along through the entryway, movements as sporadic and fast-paced as everything else about the creative.

“It’s not very logical to just stand there staring at the door all day, in my opinion. I dunno what you need Imagination for, but whatever it is, I can help! My half is much more interesting, anyway.”

“Oh,” Logan blinked, narrowly ducking his head under a branch as he was pulled forward, “Thank you, I suppose.”

He politely didn’t mention that he doubted Remus’ capacity for helpfulness. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all. 

The door from the commons was quite a walk from the darker half of The Imagination, but at the pace its owner had them going they were there in minutes. The border was marked with tangles of densely thorned shrubbery, which parted for them, as if they sensed the approach. Logan just barely avoided snagging his shoe on one as they passed.

There was forest, twisted and shadowy, for only a minute. After that, they were in a city, with tall buildings and winding streets and dark alleys. Another switch, they came into what seemed like an amusement park. Nothing was consistent in theme, and none of the scenes held up for more than a minute or two. Remus shook his head and tisked. With a snap, a good portion of the ever-changing scenery was erased, leaving blank white space. The Duke turned to look at Logan with a satisfied smile. 

“Ta-da! What do you need?” 

Logan blanched for a moment, surprised at Remus’ willingness to completely delete Imaginings without a second thought. It usually took Roman ages to find a spot that he was okay with giving up on for Logan’s “projects”- which he always had thought was a little silly, seeing as he could bring it back when they were done. The change of pace was a pleasant one, though, so there was no need to dawdle for long. 

“I need a miniature fully-functioning model of our solar system. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, totally,” Remus waved his hand and the request appeared suspended in the air, spread out to be the size of a dining table. All was accounted for- sun, moons, eight planets plus pluto- orbiting and spinning around each other. Imagination, by nature, had no real limits, but the detail was still a sight to behold every time. Logic smiled, surveying the set-up, before gesturing to the edge of their blank section.

“Thank you for the help, you may go.”

“May I now?” Remus conjured a seat for himself, staring at Logan with his chin resting on his hands, “You’re not even going to tell me what this is for? That’s just rude.”

Logan glanced up from the tiny earth he was inspecting, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“You are welcome to stay, if you wish, but your brother usually leaves at this point. He says my experiments are-” he summons his notebook, “‘Bore-ifying’, which I assume is a portmanteau for ‘boring’ and ‘horrifying’.” 

“Roman’s a big baby!”

Logan shrugged, not disagreeing, and resumed his careful observation of the tiny model earth. Remus made no move to go, wheeling his chair even closer. The scientific side carried on before his new audience of one, hovering a hand over the little planet. Abruptly, it stopped spinning. Logan made a gesture with his hand that magnified the model significantly. 

The results were immediately catastrophic. Logan jotted a few observations down in his notebook, watching closely at the ways torrents of wind ripped up trees and buildings. In the back of his mind, he was faintly impressed by just how well-rendered ‘Dark’ Creativity’s earth was, down to the individual humans, brutalized by the storms. 

“Whoah, what the fuck?!” 

Logan looked up briefly to see Remus craning his head over the destruction of the stilled planet. His eyes were wide and bright with curiosity.

“Oh- I should probably explain. I come here, usually, to run some improbable scenarios as a sort of stress-reliever. Specifically, this one is what would happen if earth stopped spinning on its axis. As you can see, due to the earth no longer rotating at its usual speed, the wind would continue on at-” he cut himself off abruptly, sensing the beginnings of a ramble, “I’m sorry, I’ve been told that I have a tendency to ‘go off’ when a subject particularly interests me.”

Remus rolled his chair even closer, looking much like an excited animal (more so than usual, anyway).

“Well then, go off! Don’t leave me hanging! Is that really what would happen, just if it stopped?” He gestured enthusiastically to the way that the oceans had begun to crash against and consume shorelines. He looked interested- genuinely interested. 

Logan bit back a smile. He didn’t have to be told twice. 

 It was one of those particularly restless nights. For no foreseeable goddamn reason, Logic’s mind had become alight with enough half-formed thoughts and barely sensible ideas to fill a very, very weird book. The Imagination did wonders when he got like this, but it usually wasn’t two in the morning when he needed to use it. That wasn’t to say the circumstance was unheard of, but all times prior he could push the urge to investigate away with the reasoning that he could just ask Roman in the morning, and that the Creative side needed his ‘beauty sleep’, as he called it. There wasn’t anything he could do about that, was there?

Tonight was different. Logan could hear the occasional snap or tear or cackle from the room across from his. Remus’ room. 

It had been less than a week since The Duke let him use the darker half of the Mindpalace, and that was pretty much the only meaningful interaction they’d had in as many days. They weren’t close, Logan wasn’t even sure if they were friends (not that he was a good judge of that, given the first time Roman referred to them as ‘besties’ he had all but cried), but Remus was at the very least an option. He was also unlikely to mind, given that he was already awake and had exhibited excitement previously. 

Logan made up his mind after yet again failing to fall asleep. Quietly, he opened his door and took the few short steps across the hall, raising his fist. Remus’ door was open before his second knock. 

“Oh, hey! What are you doing, coming knocking at this hour?” he didn’t even try to whisper, accompanying his statement with an over-exaggerated wink. Logan didn’t waste his time trying to shush the side. 

“Good evening, I hope I’m not interrupting anything-”

“You know I don’t mind your ‘interruptions’, Twunk-y Megamind!”

“-But I was wondering if you would… Help me, again. I seem to be having a hard time getting to sleep, and I think that getting out some of my ideas could help.”

Remus’ face lit up dramatically. 

“Oh hell yes! Are we gonna blow up more planets?”

“Something like that,” he kept his voice monotone, disguising the relief and hint of pride at such a positive reaction. 

“Well, come on!”

Logan let himself be dragged into Remus’ room, barely having time to make note of the surprisingly organized layout before he was pulled through a sleek black door. 

“But you have to tell me about it,” he ordered, twisting them through narrow paths in his half of The Imagination. Logan suppressed a smile. 

“If you want to hear it, then I’m happy to.” 

Without warning, they stopped the breakneck pace that Remus moved at. The trait seemed appeased with their surroundings, though as far as Logan could tell it was just another piece of ever-shifting ominous landscape. 

Remus snapped his fingers. The scene remained intact. 

“Sorry,” he glanced around nervously, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Can’t get ‘em out. I’ll get it, I just-”

“It’s no trouble.” 

Logan rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t like using his ‘abilities’ much, as every side had some set of special skills, and all of them were much too ostentatious. But they were helpful, at times. He waved a hand, gesturing carefully so that he didn’t dismantle any more of The Imagination than was absolutely necessary. With a small stutter, the landscape shifted to a blank slate.

When he looked back up, Remus’ expression was not unlike that of a Cheshire cat.

“What was that?”

“I am Logic, therefore it follows that I am the antithesis to any Imagination creations. It’s very easy to erase them with just a bit of rationality.” 

“No clue what a lot of those words meant, but it’s still cool that you can destroy shit.”

Laughing was unbecoming, to say the least, and so the logical trait tended to avoid it at all costs. The snort that escaped him was entirely involuntary. 

If Remus noticed the noise, he said nothing about it. He was too busy bouncing from foot to foot, expectantly waiting for instructions. Logan cleared his throat of the outburst and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, let’s start with something simple…”

 At his request, Remus would construct immaculately detailed creatures, settings, and models, watching gleefully at the ordeals Logan put each one through. They tested various and progressively elaborate ways to sink populated cruise liners, they simulated the effects of falling from the Empire State Building, dissected approximations of obscure marine animals (a shared special interest of theirs, apparently), and any of the other unrealistic questions that occurred to the typically rational Logic. 

The only way to get such questions from his mind, he’d found out a long time ago, was deconstructing them one step at a time, to see them in their full ridiculousness. 

It was also, he was coming to realize, incredibly fun. 

Before the two knew it, the already late hour had turned unreasonable. Logan blinked owlishly at his watch, distracted from the tiny supernova that he’d created.

“Oh, I must have lost track of time,” four in the morning. Four in the morning! 

“Aw, does that mean we’re done?” Remus whined, yet he still began unmaking his small star system. 

Logan was suddenly very aware of the heaviness of his eyelids and a rubbery feeling in his limbs. God, was he tired. 

“I’m afraid so. I really should’ve gone to sleep hours ago.”

“Fine,” Remus dragged the word out with a groan, “But let me know next time you wanna fuck with space, or deep sea stuff, or anything like that.”

Next time. 

As much as Logan adored Roman, there was something very nice about having the more grim brother help him out with these experiments. For one, his creations were often much more accurate to the real world- likely because gore and destruction were that much more impactful when they were realistic. For two, he actually seemed to enjoy the work. 

Logan’s deliberation was brief. 

“I will.”

 As it happened, the night spent delving into dozens of ideas had purged Logan’s need to use The Imagination, for the time being. Clearly, Remus was not patient enough to wait for him.

He popped up, unannounced, in Logic’s room.

“Lo!!!”

The trait in question fell out of his office chair in a very undignified way. Not that there’s a particularly dignified way to fall out of a chair, but if there was, this definitely wouldn’t have been it. He ‘ate shit’, as the saying goes.

Out of pure embarrassment, Logan made no move to get off the floor.

“Hello, Remus,” he greeted, “How may I help you?”

The Duke laughed raucously, sprawling into the now-unoccupied chair and leaning over him. 

“You’re a riot, Dork,” then, added with glittering eyes, “Did you break anything?”

“No. Given that I am metaphysical, I’m not sure that I have bones.”

“I have bones!”

“Are they your bones?”

“They are bones and they are in my possession, yes.” 

Logan let the subject drop and repeated his first question. 

“Right, I forgot! I have an idea for an experiment!”

Logan thought that, despite his mild humiliation, it would probably benefit the conversation if he wasn’t lying on the ground, so he stopped doing that. Brushing mostly imaginary dust from his clothes, he shot Remus a bemused look.

“That’s nice. But I was asking you why you were here.”

The Duke’s face fell, almost imperceptibly.  

“I thought you’d wanna know, because of what you said last time. Isn’t this, like, a thing we do now? You know how shit works, and I know how to make that shit, and then you can tell me about it!” 

Oh. 

“Remember when you were talking about radiation the other day? You can’t just say stuff like that and then not expect me to want to try it out, so really this is on you. It’d be dumb not to let you in on it.”

Oh. 

He’d been listening to that rant? Moreover, he’d remembered it, and now had his own ideas and follow-up questions about it? 

Logan felt light-headed. 

“You’re probably too busy with work, huh? I guess my explosions don't have to be accurate, if you’re set on being boring,” Remus’ tone was nonchalant, but he was obviously lingering for attention. Logan then remembered that words are a thing, and people use them to communicate.

“No! I mean, yes- I mean, I’m not busy. I can join you, I- I’d like to, even,” the intelligent side heard a small voice in his head, his own miniature Virgil, screaming- what the fuck was that, get it together, Jesus, because he, despite what his fellow sides insisted, was absolutely nonfunctional when trying to form a friendship. 

Remus didn’t seem to notice or care much past his own cheer.

“Cool!” he, yet again, wasted no time in seizing Logan’s arm and yanking him away, “I wanted to see what would happen to animals and plants and stuff bunches of years after lots of radiation! Do you think they’d mutate? Get all twisted and fucked up so that they aren’t even recognizable as, say, a dog?”

Logan considered the question as he was led through the Mindpalace.

“Well, nothing would be able to live there at all. Additionally, anything within a little under a mile of the nuclear fallout- depending on a few variables- would be completely incinerated upon impact.”

“Like, flesh-melting incinerated?” 

“More like vaporized. The fireball would burn 10,000 times the heat of the sun.”

Remus went starry eyed, bringing them to a halt a mere five feet from the door. 

“I wanna see that,” he waved his hands around at their surroundings, “Can you do the white-out thing?” 

Logan, much less hesitant than last time, obliged. A small smile escaped him at the wondrous look on The Duke’s face. It was another form of expression he didn’t particularly care for, but containing his emoting was more trouble than it was worth by now. He couldn’t find it in him to care much either, for once. 

“Where do we start?” Remus prompted.

“You tell me. I will help you make it as accurate as possible, and provide any insight that you want, but it is your idea,” and he wanted to hear more about those ideas. Odd and violent, mesmerizing and clever. There was so much that he wanted to hear about, to talk about, to puzzle out together. 

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone to share such interests with. Maybe, despite how deeply he cared for his ‘family’, as Patton called them- maybe it was never.

Remus chattered as he worked, disrupting the train of thought. Logan almost tuned it out- after all, everyone had grown perfectly used to The Duke’s rambling- but he caught himself. That was hardly how he should treat the side that was so strangely considerate to him, wasn’t it? 

Logan listened from then on. He began to add on to the conversation, corrections and elaborations and actual questions, because he actually didn’t know some of it. He didn’t regret the choice. 

By the end, Remus and Logan were sitting together in the smoldering ruins of their make-believe test town, exchanging notes for different variables they could use in the next trial. They only stopped when Logan was abruptly summoned away by Thomas. He excused himself, a bit apologetic, promising to visit again soon.

As he helped Thomas (with what really should have been a simple task, honestly), Logic wondered briefly about the origins of the hollow feeling that grew in his chest. Something distracted, longing, and unfamiliar. 

And then the oven caught fire, and the only thing he felt was annoyance with the man that he was somehow a component of. 

 So, that was that- Logan and Remus were friends, now spent regular time together, and shared interests. By all accounts, it was a simple and obviously positive development. 

But then there was Roman. 

“What’s wrong with my work? You’d really prefer whatever edgy 12-year-old DeviantArt account nonsense that he thinks up?”

Logan set his book down with a sigh and looked over to his doorway, where Roman stood with his hands on his hips.

“Come in, Roman, and thank you for knocking,” he snarked. The Creative side made a vaguely sassy noise, trotting right in and flopping backwards onto the bed. Without closing the door, the monster.

“I thought that building your Weird Science contraptions was our thing.”

Logan made a show of standing up and manually shutting his door before responding. 

“You don’t like my ‘contraptions’, as you call them.”

“Yeah, but I still made them for you! Because we’re friends, but I suppose you’ve forgotten all about that!” 

He really should have expected the melodrama. And yet, Logan had lived in a delusional world where he didn’t care about the most Extra being on earth.

With an eye roll, Logic dropped down beside Roman on the bed- though he wasn’t half as flamboyant about it. 

“I can have more than one friend.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be your favorite! We’re supposed to hang out together! Do the friendship bracelets I made mean nothing to you?”

He flung his arm across Logan’s chest, a ‘friendship bracelet’ clearly visible on his wrist (a loose usage of the term, given that it was a solid gold band with inlaid sapphires, because of course it was).

Logan held up his arm as well, showing that his (silver with inlaid rubies) was still very much in use, despite his distaste for jewelry.

“We hang out plenty. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings by spending time with your brother. My reason for doing so is that he seems to take active enjoyment in building and learning about these things with me. He also makes very good conversation, in regards to the more, ah, eccentric experiments.”

Roman tossed his head to the side to watch Logan with narrowed eyes. After a pause, he linked their arms at the elbow. 

“Yeah, you would think that. You’re secretly just as much of a weirdo as him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh please, I can barely keep up with a word that either of you say,” Roman headbutted Logan’s shoulder in what was likely another of his odd displays of affection. He let his head rest there for a minute, a rare instance of peace before he inevitably resumed talking. 

“Anyways-”

“Anyway,” Logan corrected.

“Anyways, if you nerds wanna talk about your weird, creepy experiments, then I guess that’s fine. But he isn’t allowed to co-opt anything else that we do together that we both actually like- no making fun of movies together, no Crofters jams, and no poetry-slash-rap battles.”

“Of course not, Roman. You will always be my favorite person to disagree with.”

“Love you, too,” Creativity bumped him again, then sat up to stretch. Logan snorted a laugh and considered shoving Roman off the bed, watching as he raised his arms up and straightened his back. Before the trait had the chance, unfortunately, his friend was already standing. 

“Leaving already? Weren’t you just going on about spending time together?”

“Nah, that was all I wanted to yell at you about for now. I’ve gotta go help Pat with dinner.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Thanks, I won’t.”

“I hate you.”

“Ditto.”

Halfway out the door, Roman threw a glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, and whatever you two end up doing, do not give me the details. Please.”

Okay, finally, that really was that. Friendship established, blessings given, the end. A simple symbiosis.

Logan was thinking about the practical uses of medieval torture devices? Remus. He wanted to see exactly how long it would take your average healthy adult to succumb to drowning? Remus. Logan wanted to just rant, about anything and everything, his brain moving a mile a minute? Remus. They spent an inordinate amount of time together. 

Occasionally, when he didn’t even have the energy to converse, he would sit down with a book in the commons when he knew Remus was there and let the trait’s never ending word-vomit wash over him. It was an odd sort of intimacy, but that fit within the theme of their dynamic. Like he said, simple symbiosis. 

And that was when the not-very-platonic fondness grew. And Logan, to his own surprise, allowed it to. 

After deep consideration he had seen no reason not to; Remus wouldn’t judge him, not ever. It put a name to the hollow longing that occurred whenever he, eventually, had to get back to work and part from their talks. 

He hadn’t sorted out what to do about the feeling yet, but he felt no urgency. 

Logan’s book lay forgotten in his lap, that morning being one of the quiet ones as he reflected on his unfamiliar emotions. It was almost nice, letting such affection curl up in his chest and settle there.

His contemplation was broken by a sharp jab to his shoulder.

“Are you listening to me?”

He tilted his head at Remus.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“What were you thinking about?” his eyes lit up, very obviously hoping for it to be something disgusting. Logan glanced away, given that he didn’t even like eye-contact in the best of circumstances. 

“Nothing important. You have my attention now.”

Remus rolled his eyes with a huff, apparently genuinely irritated. 

“Well now I forgot what I was saying.”

“Let’s backtrack: what were you talking about before?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, we can talk about something else.”

The irritation had grown to something unrecognizable to Logan- frustrating, given how closely he tried to study body language. He felt a stab of guilt as Remus stood up from his spot.

“It probably didn’t matter. I’m gonna go annoy Janus.”

“Oh,” Logan’s voice was small, “Alright, then.”

He was already gone.

That was… concerning. Not to mention bewildering; Remus didn’t just pass up opportunities to talk! He didn’t just leave, not even when he wasn’t wanted! Logan really hadn’t thought his zoning out would earn such a reaction. 

But he was far from perceptive about emotional problems. There was no way to know if it was anything to throw a fit over. For all he knew, it was just an off-day. He couldn’t always expect his friend to be rambunctious and energetic, even if that was a big part of his personality. 

The issue would likely resolve itself.

 The issue did not do that. It did the polar opposite, speeding from mildly concerning to downright frightening at a whiplash-inducing pace.

Remus barely asked questions and almost never offered insight, as he usually did when they spent time together. In fact, his contributions had become rare and unenthusiastic enough that he could have passed as neurotypical, however disturbing the thought was. And that was when they did end up spending time together, which was becoming less and less often, much to the dismay of one significantly smitten smart side.

Something was very clearly wrong with Remus. Not the demented, destructive, mildly endearing and unhinged sort of wrong. It was the wrong sort of wrong.

Logan was hesitant to confront him outright. After a couple weeks of careful consideration, a more subtle solution occurred to him, as he idly flipped through a very graphic murder-mystery late into the night. Something bloody, and awful, and very much Remus’ taste. He set the novel down, knowing full well that his friend would be wide awake as he made his way across the hall.

“Remus?” he knocked at the side’s door, wearing a smile much wider than he usually liked. He was more than willing to express exuberance, if there was even the slightest chance that it would be infectious.

The door decidedly did not fly open. Rather, after a good deal of wrapping at it, Remus slowly pulled it back and poked his head out.

“Oh. Hey.”

Logan didn't dwell on the concern that reaction brought. He had something that would cheer Creativity up, of that he was sure.

“I have a test tonight- it’s going to be very messy,” he began, searching the impulsive trait’s eyes for any signs of interest. There was the slightest glint, but not much more. 

“So, you want me to make stuff for you?” His speech was monotonous. 

“Yes, that was the idea. It’s going to be gory.”

Hardly a reaction. All Remus did was open the door the rest of the way to allow Logan inside. Clearly, he had underestimated just how poorly his friend felt.

“Alright, I’ll set it up for you. Just don’t take too long, I was actually hoping to use my part of the Mindscape today.”

Logan nodded, very taken aback. He couldn’t ignore the slight hurt at the cold, dismissive tone (the irony of that wasn’t lost on him).

They stepped foot into The Imagination and immediately Remus stopped, destroying whatever had been in front of them- which was usually fine, it was just how he operated, but normally out of enthusiasm, not apathy. Maybe this was more than could be fixed with some blood and guts.

“What do you need?”

Logan conjured a tiny notebook, giving a tentative smile. Still, he was giving this plan a shot.

“Operating table,” one appeared before him, sleek metal with rolly legs, “A standard set of surgical tools,” he looked up to gauge Remus’ interest, but his expression still hadn’t changed as he continued to create, “A human corpse, and then we can get started.”

With a wave, a perfectly generic body fell onto the table, but Logan’s attention remained on The Duke.

“Great, have fun, let me know when you’re finished.”

Logan faltered, watching him turn to leave.

“You- you aren’t going to stay and do this with me?”

“You want me to?” Remus crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Logan with a gaze that could (figuratively) wilt flowers.

“I- Yes? If you aren’t at all interested right now, then I can save this experiment for another day?” Yeah, this wasn’t working, but Logan had no backup.

“No, no, don’t wait for me, you’ve already got everything you need, right?”

“I mean- technically, yes, but it- it wouldn’t be the same.”

Remus cackled, sounding quite like the cartoonish villain that he often acted as. It hurt to listen to.

“So that’s what this is about! Let me just fix you up, then!” 

He snapped, and a blank humanoid form appeared at his side. It tilted its faceless head curiously at Logan, who recoiled.

“Not good enough? Is a hunk of nothing too unrealistic for you?” he snapped again, and the being suddenly transformed to match its creator exactly. 

Nearly exactly: it wore an enthusiastic grin, eyes wide and sparkling, rather than the steadily building fire that raged in real-Remus’ eyes. It spoke in a disgustingly cheery tone.

“Wow, tell me more! Show me that again? What happens when you do that? You’re just so interesting, Lo!” 

Remus watched the creation, a look of one part pride and a million parts resentment.

“Is that what you want? It’s just like me, but without any of the hassle of being another person that you have to deal with! And this one, you really can get rid of whenever you want, isn’t that great?”

Logan looked between the two, a fearful understanding creeping up his spine. There was something he was missing here, wasn’t there?

“No,” he muttered, half to the fake-Duke and half to the real one. 

“No?” Remus spat, circling his mirror, “No, of course, you’re so right. This isn’t nearly enough.”

He made an elaborate gesture, and about a dozen more Creativities appeared, surrounding them. Logan stumbled back from them, nearly tripping on the operating table that they’d previously made. When he looked up, the real Remus was approaching him with an expression that fought its way between guilt and indignation. It was all at once heart-wrenching and frightening. 

Logan tried to right himself, tried to look unaffected and certain of himself, as he raised his voice. He would not let this go a step farther, despite his confusion.

“Stop,” and with that, a wave rocked across The Imagination, and all was erased. In the aftermath he stood before a teary-eyed Remus (just the one, though), uncharacteristically looking like a stiff wind would knock him right over.

“What’s wrong? I gave you what you wanted!”

Logan reeled.

“Why would you think I wanted any of that?” 

“You wanted an experiment, I gave you one! You wanted a willing audience, I gave you twelve! But I guess I just get everything wrong, right?”

“You know that isn’t true,” Logan felt choked, his words clumsy. It was foreign and horrible and disgusting, but he’d trudge through it all if it meant fixing whatever he’d done wrong. It couldn’t have just been him losing focus once? Could it? 

“Oh, of course, I do just enough to be useful. So I’ve got that right; I’m a good utensil. Is it so much to ask that people would care about me, not just what I can do?” he posed a rhetorical oozing with vitriol, but it quickly evaporated into something much more desperate, “What if it’s my fault? It was my idea, I wanted to help. I don’t know why I thought you’d care past all that, did I give you a reason to? I can’t remember. It might make more sense that way, if I were the problem, wouldn’t it?”

Logan was running out of time to fix this, watching Remus curl in on himself, barely keeping from falling to the floor. He had no clue how The Duke had reached the conclusion that he didn’t care about him! They spent nearly all their free time together: sitting next to each other just to have the company, throwing each other tricky and often troubling questions to answer, constantly toiling away at things in The Imagination. Sometimes, they didn’t even need to talk, they just worked together in rapt silence; Remus did the creating and Logan arranged his work just so, and- Wait. Wait. Wait.

Logan didn’t need to talk, or touch, for that matter. Perhaps it was a mistake to presume the same for such a needy, affectionate, boisterous side? 

No, not perhaps, it was a huge mistake. A major fuck-up, if you will. 

He’d thought, if the blunt side had needed such comforts, surely he would initiate it? He hardly shied away from anything, except, well. 

Except. Feelings. 

God, he was the dumbest smart person in the world.

“Oh, Remus…”

The Duke’s head jerked up, continuing his back-and-forth of desperation and rage. 

“I don't need your pity!”

Logan sighed, twisting the end of his tie in frustration. 

“That isn't what I'm offering,” he took a breath before continuing, linking the words together so it would come out right. “I'm so sorry, I didn't take into account how you would interpret our interactions. I thought it was obvious that I cared for you, that I didn't need to say it outright. Clearly… I was wrong. So, if you need more than what I previously expressed- which I'm now realizing was very little in the eyes of someone who is not me- then I am happy to provide that for you.” 

Remus was shaken, a good deal of his ire slipping away. Whether that was good or bad remained unclear.

Before it could be overthought, Logan crossed the remaining few feet between them and brought his arms around The Duke in his loose approximation of a hug. The trait froze, but he didn't pull away. 

Physical affection, check. 

“I value your companionship more than I'm entirely sure how to verbalize. You understand me in a way that most others don’t seem to. While your ability to make detailed creations is very helpful, it is hardly the only thing I appreciate about you. 

“For one, you make me laugh. A lot. More than I'm used to. Additionally, you can easily match the pace with which I speak, or change topics! And, you are so much smarter than you make yourself out to be,” Logan finished the spiel with a smile, genuinely proud at his ability to articulate such… sentimental things, with relative ease. Words of affirmation, check.

He snapped back to attention when Remus brought shaking hands up to Logan's chest. For a moment, he worried that Remus would shove him away. The fears dissipated when all he did was bunch the front of Logan's shirt in his hands and hold on tight. 

“Do you mean that,” his volume was low, “Or do you just want me to calm down?”

Logan tightened his grip around him and, following a motion that he'd seen Patton employ many times to great success, he rubbed up and down his back.

“I understand that it might be hard for you to trust me, but I promise I'm not lying to you. I would have to be pretty awful to do something like that, wouldn't I?”

Hesitantly, Remus nodded against his collar. A good sign, but there was one thing left he had to say. 

“And- If you need further convincing- then you should know. I love you.”

Remus stilled. He then unfisted his hands from Logan's shirt. It was an anticipatory second before he threw his arms around the logical trait and finally returned the hug. His hold was crushing, and it was the most comforting thing that Logan had ever felt. 

They were okay.

“I'm sorry I-” 

Logan didn’t let him finish the apology. 

“Don't be. You didn't know how I felt, because I hadn't communicated it in a way you understood. That is hardly your fault.”

Remus nodded again, remaining much quieter than he’d probably ever been in his entire existence.

They held each other for longer than either would like to admit, speaking softly. 

“Thanks,” was muttered against Logan’s shoulder. 

“Of course. Just so you know, I'm more than willing to do this again whenever you need reassurance.”

“It might be a lot,” his tone was turning more mischievous, more him, “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Absolutely.”

Logan hardly minded having an opportunity to gush about Remus to Remus. Not to mention, the physical affection was even nicer than he'd imagined it being. And oh, had he imagined it. 

Remus' face returned to his usual ever-present zeal, and he ended their hug to bounce in place. 

“Great! I'm good now! We can get on with that autopsy you wanted to show me- there better be buckets of blood!”

Logan shifted his weight. 

“Maybe we should save that for another day.”

“Oh,” Remus' face fell the smallest bit, “Okay.”

Logan was quick to amend:

“By that I mean, I have something better in mind.”

 Remus curled himself up in Logan’s lap, his eyes barely focused on the TV as the side carded his hands through his tangled mop of hair. Final Destination 3 played on the television (he had assured Logan that they didn't need to see the first two, and he was mostly right), serving as an excuse for the two to drink in each other's company. 

It was right in the middle of a particularly graphic rollercoaster scene that Remus took Logan's hands from his hair to hold them, twisting around to face him.

“Is something wrong, Remus?”

“You told me you loved me,” he stated blankly. 

“Yes, I did.”

“I didn't say it back!”

“No, you didn't,” it hadn't been the most important matter at the time, really. “You don't have to say it. It's perfectly okay if you don't feel the s- Mmph!”

Remus smashed their lips together, holding the sides of Logan's face (disrupting his glasses in the process) and pulling him forward harshly. 

Logan, for less than a second, was floored. And then Remus tilted his head to deepen the already heated kiss, and the situation properly clicked. Logan reciprocated, slightly uncertain in his movements, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. 

Remus smiled against him. He nipped at Logan's lower lip with sharpened teeth, eliciting a very embarrassing yelp. Logic let his lips part in response as his thoughts grew fuzzier by the second. 

The (somewhat clumsy) open-mouthed kiss lasted right until they absolutely had to break, separating for air. Neither moved very far, letting their foreheads rest against each other and all but panting for breath.

“I love you so fuckin' much, nerd,” when Remus spoke, their lips brushed ever so slightly, “Just so you know.”

“I picked up on that, yes.” 

“A little clarity never hurts, right?”

Logan chuckled at the reference to his own sentiments, but the sound was abruptly cut off when Remus kissed him properly again. 

When they broke apart, he explained how 'stupid-cute' that laugh was. And Logan, only half-joking (since when did he joke at all?), said that he’d have to do it more often.

Banter came easily to them, despite the raw undercurrent that still laced their conversation. Although, neither of them had ever found it difficult to talk; talk about the first thing that came to mind and the last thing that would come to anyone’s mind, talk about exceedingly simple nonsense and topics so intricate that they wound up sounding like nonsense, just talk.

So things would stay mostly the same. They would ramble to each other when no one else could stand to hear such disturbing things. They would sit, working side by side, running through plans and ideas and results at rapid-paced speech. They’d speak, and they would listen, when even their closest friends couldn’t manage such patience.

Only now, sometimes the rushed words might turn soft. Now, all that ranting might be more substantial than anyone would at first see. Now, they’d still listen, but leaned close together, gazes impossibly fond.

But then, on occasion, they would find that there were things far more fun than talking to do together.

@shrimp-crockpot

[starlocked01]

Nothing but the Truth

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: The twins throw a sleepover and everyone gets more revelations than they bargained for.

Content Warning: Anxiety, mentions of eating non-food items

Day 15 pre-Dukexiety/ pre-Rosleep/background Loceit- It is impossible to lie to your Soulmate

Virgil couldn’t stop tapping his foot as he watched mailboxes and telephone poles flash by the car door window. There were about one million things that could go wrong tonight and he was trapped thinking through every single one of them. Roman was his bestest friend in all of the second grade, and he didn't mind hanging out with Roman’s twin brother Remus or their friend Patton, but a sleepover? Away from his safe bed where dad checked the closet for monsters every night and left the hall light on to prevent vampires from sneaking in to bite him? Virgil almost wanted to ask dad to turn around now, but then he worried that Remus would find out and call him a baby.

Virgil was no baby. And he certainly couldn't let Remus know he was scared.

They pulled into the driveway and Virgil very bravely grabbed his purple spider backpack and favorite pillow and climbed out of the car. He took dad's hand and they walked up to the front door together.

"Go ahead and ring the bell, Virge," dad smiled at him and pointed to the doorbell. Virgil had to stand on tiptoes but he managed to hit the button. He jumped at the loud bell tone from inside the house and the subsequent scrabbling of running feet and a dog barking.

He'd forgotten all about their dog.

The inner door swung open to reveal Roman standing there with a huge grin on his face. Virgil could see the missing tooth that had "fallen out" earlier that week.

"DAD! VIRGIL’S HERE!" Roman shouted back into the house. Suddenly a dog nearly as big as Virgil came running up to the door, pulling Remus along with him. Virgil was very happy there was still a screen between them.

"Damn it, Nagini!" Remus swore, trying to hold the dog back, "Roro, help me!" Roman jumped to grab her collar as well and they both tried to pull her from the door.

"Virgil, if you pick up any swearing from Remus we're going to have to have a serious talk about your choice in friends," dad reprimanded as Roman and Remus' dad came into view.

"Logan! I'm so glad Virgil could come over tonight. Roman would not stop begging for a sleepover," their dad said with a smile, taking Nagini's collar from the twins and easily holding her back from the door, "please come in."

"Thank you, Janus. He needed more convincing than I did," Logan smiled at the other dad, ushering Virgil inside.

"The twins have been such devils lately," Janus sighed, "you're so lucky that Virgil is so calm."

Logan chuckled, "we have our fair share of quirks, I assure you. Kids, go ahead and go play. Your father and I are just going to talk for a bit."

Virgil looked up curiously, "Dad, why is your face so red?"

Logan flushed all the harder at the question and glanced at Janus, "because we're going to talk for a little bit. Don't worry about me. Go have fun, my little warrior."

Virgil smiled and ran off to the playroom with Roman and Remus.

"Nice save," Janus smirked.

"I wouldn't lie to my son even if you weren't in earshot," Logan quipped back.

"Virgil!! We're gonna have so much fun tonight!" Roman bounced excitedly, holding onto Virgil’s sleeve.

"Yeah! We're gonna make zombie slime that's gonna taste like braaaaains!" Remus grinned and rubbed his hands together like a movie villain. The twins were nearly identical except for the bright streak of silver hair Remus had and remarkably different personalities.

Virgil was decidedly less excited than the twins, convinced that touching zombie slime would turn him into the walking dead. He didn't want to know what brains taste like.

"When's Pat gonna get here?" Virgil asked with a half-smile.

"Oooh does Virgie have a crush?" Remus cackled.

"No! I do not have a crush on Patton!" Virgil pouted.

"Yeah, Remus, Virgil doesn't have a crush like you do," Roman stuck out his tongue and ran away as Remus tried to tackle him.

"Shut Up, Dirtbag!" Remus' tackle missed and he crashed into the toy box sending toys crashing all over the room.

"Are you boys okay in there?" Janus called from the other room.

"Yes," Virgil and Roman both called back in unison

"No," came Remus' muffled voice. The other two walked over to pull him out of the box as Logan and Janus both walked into the room.

"Christ! Look at this mess. Remus, what's broken?" Janus bent down to his son.

Remus sniffed, "my heart."

Roman took a not-very-discreet step backward and Virgil went to hug his dad's legs. He didn't mean to hurt Remus and he was sure it was his fault and he'd be sent away to never see his friends again.

Janus sighed and offered Remus a hug which the boy gladly accepted, "what happened?"

"Ro is teasing me," Remus mumbled, "but I'm okay! Don't send Virgil and Patton home just because I'm a baby!"

"Okay, no. You are not a baby for feeling hurt when someone is mean to you. Roman? Why were you teasing your brother?" Janus pinned Roman in the middle of his escape with a piercing stare.

"Ahm…. No reason," Roman lied.

"Roman…"

"He was teasing Virgil. I'm sorry please don't make Virgil leave," Roman blinked back tears.

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose, "none of this explains how Remus ended up in the toy box."

Virgil tugged on his dad's sleeve, "dad, are we gonna have to leave if we can't play nice?"

Logan shared a look with Janus then turned back to Virgil, "no, we are not leaving. You all have been planning this party for months and have worked hard to be well behaved. I don't think one little fight is going to negate that." Virgil nodded slowly.

"Daddy, my shoulder hurts," Remus whimpered.

"Alright, Roman, five minutes in the time out chair. Please consider why it is not fair to Remus or Virgil to tease each other. I'll be back when your five minutes are up. Remus, let's go get some ice and talk about why it's not nice to make fun of your friends. Logan, I am so sorry. You see what I have to deal with?" Janus chuckled helplessly, picking Remus up with a grunt as Roman sulked over to a chair in the corner. The doorbell rang and Roman swiveled around to jump up and get the door. "No! You're in time out! That must be Emile with Patton. Can you get the door, dear?"

Logan blushed and nodded, grabbing Virgil’s hand to walk back out to the front door. They opened the door to find Patton and his older brother standing there with a very frazzled looking father.

"Oh, Logan! I thought that was your car! How are you doing?" Emile gave him a weary smile.

"The usual. Virgil’s a little handful but nothing we can't work out together. How are you and the boys?"

Emile groaned as Logan ushered them in. Virgil waved at Patton who waved back excitedly. He was already wearing a dinosaur onesie even though bedtime was hours away. The adults talked in hushed whispers in the foyer that Virgil couldn’t understand.

"Hi, Virge! Where's Remus and Roman?" Patton asked Virgil quietly.

"Uh.. in trouble.." Virgil muttered.

"What?? How?" Patton looked crestfallen, "is their dad gonna send us home?"

"No, definitely not," Virgil smiled at Patton, "it was just a little argument."

"God, you babies are boring!" Patton's older brother Remy scoffed. He was in 3rd grade so Virgil figured he must know what he's talking about.

Janus and Remus emerged from the kitchen with the young boy holding an ice pack to his shoulder. Janus pushed Remus towards the kids standing in the hall and joined the other adults in conversation.

"Don't worry, V. I'm okay and Dad promised you guys can stay! Hi Pattycake! Hi Name Theif!" Remus grinned, the pain and embarrassment were already forgotten.

Remy rolled his eyes, "I'm older than you, twerp."

"Remy, be nice to my friends!" Patton whined.

"Why should I be?"

"Thank you again, Janus. We really owe you one this time. I'll go get his stuff from the car. You'd think with three adults in the house we wouldn't have scheduling issues like this," Emile quickly jogged back out to his car, bringing back two sets of sleepover equipment.

"Fudge! Dad's leaving me here too!" Remy groaned. Virgil was a bit intimidated but refused to show it.

"Alright let's go get Roman so your fathers can get on with their lives," Janus corralled the kids back to the playroom, winking at Logan as he and Emile left.

Roman immediately bounced up from the chair as soon as the others returned. He rushed over to Remus and wrapped him in a hug, "I'm sorry!"

Remus grinned, "'s okay!" he hugged Roman back tightly and Janus sighed a small sigh of relief.

"Okay, children, ground rules. One, if anything breaks or anyone gets injured you get me immediately. Two, and this is mostly for you, Remus, no eating anything that isn't food-" Remus grumbled at this but nodded, handing his dad the half-melted ice pack "-lovely. And finally three, bedtime is non-negotiable. You have to be quiet after bedtime. Other than that, just don't maim or mock each other and tonight will go just fine," Janus gave the children a sly grin and left the room.

"Ugh! Why am I stuck with you babies?" Remy moaned.

"We're not babies, Rem!" Patton huffed, "you're not that much older than us."

"Besides, babies don't get to play with slime!" Remus grinned, running over to a supply cabinet filled with crafts.

"Wow. I'm so not impressed," Remy made a confused face but shook it off, "why play with slime when we can play a grown-up game?"

"Grown-up game?" Virgil asked quietly.

"I don't trust it. It's bound to be something boring like taxes!" Roman pouted, kicking a stuffed animal.

"Let's play Truth or Dare," Remy smirked as the others looked at him with confused stares.

"How do ya play that?" Remus asked, intrigued.

"Can't we do something else like color?" Patton asked hopefully.

Remy rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder, cracking his neck audibly, "listen up, we're playing and I'm only going over the rules once. We all sit in a circle and take turns choosing someone to ask 'truth or dare?' and that person has to choose whether to answer a question truthfully or accept a challenge that they can't back outta. Once they pick, the person who asked them picks a question or challenge. Got it, babes?" the others all nodded solemnly, "perfect. Maybe this won't be a wasted night yet."

They all gathered in a circle in the middle of the room. Remus was clutching a stuffed squid and Virgil was chewing on his nails.

"Oh! Oh! I wanna go first!" Roman bounced in his seat and made a show of studying everyone before landing on his choice, "Patton, truth or dare?"

"Ummm truth!" The boy squeaked.

"Alright, uhhhh do you like cats?" Roman asked accusingly.

"Yes!" Patton beamed, "but dad and papa say I'm allergic to them."

"Noooo you have to ask juicy questions!" Remy whined.

"Oh uh, Patton do you like juice?" Roman corrected.

Remy smacked his forehead as Patton cheerfully replied, "yeah I like juice too!"

"Let me show you how it's done. Virgil, truth or dare?" Remy stared him down with piercing eyes and everyone else turned to watch for Virgil’s response. He could feel his pulse rise with the fear of being put on the spot.

"Uh dare?" Virgil asked, pulling his hood up over his head.

"I dare you to go eat some glue!" Remy smirked.

"Ooh, yummy!" Remus grinned

"But wait-" Roman started.

"Mr. Prince said not to eat anything that isn't food. That's an illegal dare, Remy!" Patton interrupted in protest.

"Truth or Dare doesn't play by house rules. You gotta do it, Virgil, or you're a loser baby," Remy continued to smirk, nodding over to the supply cabinet.

Virgil stood with a gulp. He would not let any of them call him a loser or a baby. He walked over to the supply closet and grabbed a bottle of white glue. The label said non-toxic, but what if it glued his mouth shut and he could never talk or laugh again? What if it just sat in his stomach forever and captured all the brussel sprouts he hated eating so they never left? What if he-

"Just do it we don't have all night!" Remy bossed him from the circle. Virgil took a deep breath and squeezed some glue on his finger before quickly shoving the finger in his mouth. He wanted to gag because the texture was so awful but he swallowed as best he could and showed the others his clean finger.

"Wow Virgil, you're so brave!" Patton smiled at him.

"Humph! I do that at least three times a week!" Remus smacked his hand over his mouth.

"You told dad you stopped! Liar!" Roman accused him. Remy just laughed at the small pool of chaos he'd created.

"Okay my turn, Remus, truth or dare?" Patton asked, rocking back and forth on his seat on the floor.

"Truth!"

"Okay, do you like dogs?"

Remus gasped, "Nagini! I wanna go get her!"

"No, Remus! Dad probably put her outside so she doesn't eat Virgil," Roman rolled his eyes and Virgil added a new thing to his list to look out for in his nightmares.

"No! You have to ask questions that people won't want to answer. Like about crushes or secrets or stuff like that! What fun is it if the person wants to tell the truth?" Remy groaned.

"Sorry, Rem," Patton whimpered.

"Well, it's my turn. Remy, truth or dare?" Remus grinned at the older boy.

"Truth. Do your worst." Remy stared back cooly.

"Have ya ever pooped in the bath?" Remus' smile turned wicked and the others gasped while Remy sputtered.

"N- n- how- yes," he looked mortified and buried his face in his knees as the others laughed. Remy had tried so hard to lie and save face but couldn't, and not because of the social contract of the rules of the game. He physically could not force himself to lie. Which meant his own crush was a lot bigger deal than he wanted to admit and he'd just told his soulmate one of the most embarrassing things in his life. "Oh my gawd, just kill me now."

"It's okay Remy, I'm sure it's happened to almost everyone at some point," Virgil was still snickering and realized it was his turn, "Roman, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" Roman puffed his chest out in confidence.

"Okay.. I dare you to climb that bookshelf," Virgil pointed to the shelves in question.

Roman popped up from his seat on the floor, "easy!" he scurried up until he could touch the ceiling but paused, clinging to the shelves, "I think I'm stuck."

Remus jumped up, "don't worry, brother, I'll catch you! Jump!" Roman let go and fell back. Remus caught and promptly dropped Roman.

"Oops… Ro are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Remy, truth or dare?"

Remy weighed his options. He wouldn't be able to lie if the question was too embarrassing so he scowled, "dare."

"I dare you to go sneak ice cream bars from the freezer for everyone," Roman grinned, dusting himself off.

"Whatever, that's so lame and easy," Remy stood and started out the playroom door.

"You won't be saying that if dad catches you," Remus giggled.

"Okay if Remy's gone I think that means it's my turn," Patton chipped in, "Virgil, truth or dare?"

On one hand, Patton couldn't possibly ask him to do anything as dangerous as Remy had. On the other hand, Virgil was starting to feel sick and didn't want to get up, "truth…"

"Okay," Patton furrowed his eyebrows with concentration. He didn't want to ruin the game anymore with baby questions, "um, have you ever kissed someone?"

Virgil felt frozen in time. His mind flashed back to a spring day on the playground when he'd just wanted to know if he'd like kissing and what it was like and Roman had volunteered to let him try with him. They'd agreed to never speak of it again. He could see Roman blushing and Remus and Patton staring at him with anticipation. He had to lie to protect his best friend.

"Yes," Virgil smacked his hand to his mouth. That was absolutely not what he had intended to say. He could see Roman panicking now too. Oh no, did Roman hate him? Remus looked upset and Patton looked shocked. Neither had noticed Roman's face yet but Virgil could see the next logical question forming on Remus' lips.

"Who?"

Virgil turned away from the group and started to cry. He didn't want to answer because he didn't think his mouth would let him lie even if he tried. He felt a weird tug in his gut compelling him to tell the truth.

Wait. Did that mean that one of these boys was his soulmate?

"I think it was Elliott," Roman lied shakily. Virgil nodded, relieved of having to tell them himself and willing to go along with the lie. That meant his soulmate wasn’t Remy or Roman.

Remus crawled around to sit in front of Virgil, holding Sir Squiggles the stuffed Squid out to him, "Virgil, it'll be okay. I'm sure your soulmate will understand," Virgil took Sir Squiggles and nodded, not wanting to make eye contact with Remus. Sir Squiggles felt sticky and Virgil’s stomach was aching already. This was supposed to be a lot more fun.

"Ugh this is getting boring," Roman whined, "Remus, truth or dare?"

"Dare," Remus answered without thinking.

Roman got a wicked gleam in his eye, "I dare you to kiss your crush."

Remus glared at his brother and tried to say that he couldn’t because he wasn't in the house, but found that he couldn’t say that. He knew full well Virgil was sitting right in front of him but he couldn’t bring himself to lie and save himself.

Uh oh. That meant Patton or oh please be Virgil was his soulmate.

Remus knew there was no way out of it so he decided to come clean. As he knelt there in front of Virgil, who was looking at him expectantly, he grabbed the other boy’s hand and kissed his knuckles. Both of them blushed.

"That's cheating!" Roman protested.

Patton laughed, "you never said where to kiss. I say it counts," his laughter died down into giggles and he started singing, "Remus has a crush on Virgilll!"

"That's not fair!" Roman whined.

"What's not fair?" The adult voice from the door startled all of them.

Janus stood there with a guilty-looking Remy. The other boys froze in place, Remus subconsciously shifting to put himself between his dad and Virgil.

"Okay, better question, who tried to trick Remy into stealing ice cream?" Janus looked around at each of their faces with a hard glare. None of them could look him in the eye.

"It was a dare," Roman sniffed, knowing he was going to get in trouble for the second time that day, but unable to lie and make up a cover story.

"Am I that scary that my own children can't ask me for ice cream?" Janus pretended to be offended before pulling out ice cream bars from behind his back. Everyone jumped up to grab one and Remy broke into a grin, giving Janus a high five. "You are one talented little actor. You all keep playing nice, okay?" Everyone nodded as Janus turned and left the room again.

"Oh my goodness, did you get caught?" Patton asked in a hushed whisper.

Remy struggled for a second before answering, "no I just went and asked for ice cream," he sighed and shook his head, "that's it I'm done with truth or dare. It's no fun if you can't lie and fake people out."

Roman gave an offended gasp, "how dare you?! You're the one who suggested it!"

"Wait, you can't lie? That would mean…" Virgil trailed off. What a weird coincidence it would be if both he and Remy were in the presence of their soulmates. Unless… no…

"Not that I wanted to lie to you guys, but I felt it too," Roman interrupted Virgil’s thoughts.

"Samesies," Remus chuckled.

Patton looked down at his slippers, "aww that's nice for you guys."

"So… who is who's soulmate?" Remy looked between the brothers. He definitely had a preference but that's not how soulmates worked.

Remus stood and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, heart beating wildly in his chest. He pulled him out into the hallway towards the front doors away from the others.

"What are you doing?" Virgil asked.

"Testing. Ask me something I wouldn't want to answer." Remus stated with determination in his eyes.

"Uh, do you still sleep with Sir Squiggles in your bed?"

Remus' eyes flashed with fear, "yes because I'm a baby who's still scared of the dark."

Virgil smiled, "me too. And I would never tell anyone else that."

Remus giggled, "wow, somehow I don't even want to lie to you… and I can't… did you really kiss Elliott?"

"No…" Virgil looked down at the floor. Of course, his soulmate would ask the one thing he really didn't want to admit, "it was actually Roman. I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

Remus looked sad but nodded, "I did say that your soulmate would understand. And I meant it. I understand. I'll just have to prove I'm better than him!" Virgil snorted, trying to hold back giggles. He felt much better.

"Um guys, we're gonna make slime now," Patton interrupted from the hallway, "and Remy and Roman are pretty sure they're soulmates."

Remus' eyes gleamed, "slime!" He ran back to the room leaving the other two behind.

Virgil smiled, "hey Patton?"

"Yeah?" Patton looked up and quickly smiled.

"We're gonna be friends forever, right?" Virgil asked.

Patton's smile broadened into a genuinely happy expression, "of course!"

Virgil opened his arms as an invitation for a hug which Patton gladly accepted.

"Now let's go make slime!" Virgil grabbed Patton's hand to drag him back to the playroom.

That night, Virgil lay awake in his sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling. No one had checked the closet or left a light on, and even with all the fun they had, he was still feeling pretty scared in the dark.

Something soft, squishy, a little sticky, and covered in tentacles landed on his face. Virgil tried to muffle his startled yell and quickly discovered Sir Squiggles was the offending toy.

"Psssst Virgil," Remus' whisper came from the bottom bunk bed right next to Virgil’s sleeping bag.

"What?" Virgil whispered back.

"Are you too scared to sleep too?"

"Yeah," Virgil sat up and could look Remus in his eyes.

"Get up here, we'll protect each other."

"What will everyone else say?" Virgil hissed.

"Who cares? Please?" Remus smiled and Virgil nodded in the dark. He slid out of his sleeping bag and grabbed his pillow and Sir Squiggles before climbing in the bunk.

"What are you scared of?" Virgil whispered as Remus shifted to give him more room.

"Ninjas. They can hide in the dark and attack when you least expect," Remus' eyes went wide but Virgil smiled.

"I'll fight 'em. I know karate," Remus smiled and gave him a hug.

"What about you, Virge? What are you scared of?"

"The monsters in the closet," Virgil couldn't make eye contact but Remus smirked.

"I'm scarier than anything in there!" Remus boasted, voice trailing above a whisper.

"Shhhh"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Thank you, Remus," Virgil smiled and snuggled under the covers. It had been a pretty great first sleepover after all.

Tag List: @tsshipmonth2020 @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit