#I'm doing that summary of apple decapitation now

[reinemichele]

Re: the tags on this post I feel like I should say 2 things

Sorry if that example of abuse sounds too cartoony? I have . many examples . from my family . but I didn't want to put specific/graphic details in the tags for OP/other ppl to have to see and/or be triggered by, so I decided to make it vague and gender neutral. For whatever its worth, the whole jealousy -> physical abuse -> apology with flowers sequence Is something that happened, and might come across as cartoony bc our society doesn't take abuse seriously & makes it a frequent punchline

I'm not the kind of person to be like "😢 But guys we need to remember and acknowledge that X Character did something bad, otherwise we're Liking Fiction Wrong!" and I don't intend to make it a habit. But outside of the who lock of super, I'm not usually into popular things? So I thought it was worthwhile to say at least one time that I'm not the kind of ankn enjoyer to sit here pitying him, I'm the kind to be like "He is such a petulant annoying manipulative little shitstain and his canon love interests deserve better (affectionately, while pointing and laughing)", the same way I am when I'm laughing about the master turning the human race into cannibal murder spheres. It's pretty self-evident in how I talk and act, but... I keep getting recommended re/ader x ankn blogs who portray him as a sad, tortured dom and not, like, a gangly jackass one bad day away from committing war crimes even Before he completely fell. [Ta/tooine massacre, there's a scene in TCW where he suggests smth and Obwn is like "That's Terrorism . "] So like I said, it felt worth it to at least say once that he has Flaws and Was In Charge Of His Own Decisions. The tags I put on this post apply here, and to all of my favorite characters; generally speaking, I exclusively like characters who range from Asshole to Medical Malpractice/Unethical Scientists to War Criminal, not in spite of those things but because they're interesting and fun to me. They say a lot about human nature, the same way that real people with those traits/actions do, without any real people getting hurt from me watching an episode of doccy who

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Wordcount- 3.9k

Notes- okay so this has taken a lot longer than I thought it would but it’s here now finally. And I have changed my url so I’m sorry if you thought this was some random person tagging you

Chapter 6

I woke up the next morning sprawled across my bed and tangled in the sheets. I stumbled up and made my way into the dining area, only bothering to wrap a dressing gown around myself so as to not expose my arms. Unfortunately Lysander greeted me much too cheerfully the second I stepped foot in the room, with a wide grin and loud words.

“Good morning!” He trilled. “Sit, sit and eat. You have an important day ahead of you.” I slumped down into a seat and grabbed an apple, biting into the crisp red skin and sinking my teeth deep into its flesh.

“So what did you get up to with the lovely Megara last night?” He inquired as an avox served him a plate of toast piled with eggs and cheese and ham. I judged his choice in food for a moment and then almost snorted as his words registered in my mind. He certainly wasn't being subtle at all I thought as Finnick and Mags entered and seated themselves. I took another bite out of my apple and grinned.

I stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of silk pyjama shorts and a loose top. Megara was sprawled across my bed, shovelling ice cream into her mouth as fast as physically possible. She noticed me and smacked the bed.

“Sit.” I sat. “Now spill. You and Finnick flipping Odair.” I sighed.

“Pass me a cupcake. No, not that one. No, no, yes. Thanks.” I peeled the case off and bit into it, the rich chocolate and caramel spreading across my tongue. “I found out when I first got it.” I showed her my wrist and she inspected it closely. “We were, well we were friends I suppose. After I won that is. I saw his once, it was an accident. I don’t think anyone else really knows he even had one.” I took another bite of my cupcake. “We kinda stuck together for a couple of years. He helped me through the aftermath and the nightmares and everything.” She looked at me curiously.

“So what happened?”

“Annie Cresta happened. When she won everything changed. You know how the boy she went in with that year was decapitated and she lost it?”

“Everyone knows, though the Capitol tries to brush over it.” I laughed quietly.

“Well when she came back she was absolutely broken. She couldn’t function by herself. So Finnick helped her. At first I knew it was necessary, she probably would have offed herself otherwise, but the days passed to weeks and weeks to months. He had just,” I breathed, “He had just left me and gone to her.”

Megara's mouth opened in a shocked expression.

“You would’ve been fifteen?”

“Almost sixteen.”

“And he just, what, abandoned you?” I shrugged.

“Love is weird. It comes and goes at the most unexpected of times and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.” She placed a hand on her forehead.

“Okay, sorry for interrupting. Please continue.”

“The nightmares came back, I spiralled, I spent I think two months here. Doing shows, staying as far away from them as I could. I mainly talked to Effie and Haymitch.” I smiled fondly. “They were really something. Always bickering and picking at each other like an old married couple. They made me laugh a lot, the only thing I laughed at really. Then it all changed again. But that’s not relevant.” I ignored her look and powered ahead. “I stopped talking to anyone, unless I had to, I wouldn’t say a word. I sang at shows but nothing more. And that was my life I guess. Not happy, not sad. It just was.”

Megara unexpectedly leapt across the bed and engulfed me in a hug.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that.” She pulled away. “I can't imagine if I met my soulmate and then had to pretend like they meant nothing to me.” I smiled back at her sadly.

“Like I said, love is weird. And why would he want me when he has her.” With that I flopped down in bed and curled up in a ball. “Goodnight.”

“We didn't do anything interesting. I ate a bit then fell asleep. I was tired.” I smiled tightly at Lysander, a glint of challenge in my eyes before my gaze slipped to my plate and I took a second bite out of my apple. It tasted like ash in my mouth. “What's on the agenda today?” With that his eyes lit up and he beamed.

“Training.”

As it turned out, training was in fact the only thing on the agenda. I walked into the room and was greeted by the sight of the majority of the other tributes already showing off. My eyes flicked around the room for a second, Finnick was already bothering Katniss, the girl looked extremely unimpressed at him showing her how to tie a knot in the rope and didn't even try to hide her disgusted expression as he pretended to hang himself. I made my own way over to the survival skills section, I immediately picked up two pieces of wood and began to rub them together to little effect. Just as I was about to give up a shadow appeared above me.

“You have to rub quicker, and lower down.” Katniss took the sticks from me and demonstrated. “See.” I nodded slowly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” With that she turned and made her way to one of the compartmentalised training rooms, grabbing a bow and a sheaf of arrows along the way. I watched from a distance as she put an arrow through each glowing hologram that appeared. I started as I saw one holding an axe and it immediately disintegrated, a small bolt of fear shooting through me. Were they supposed to represent us? My question was answered as another showed up holding a trident and resulted in the same fate. The closer I watched, I could see more similarities between the holograms and all the people stood watching. Johanna and Finnick were obvious, two appearing next to each other and reacting in sync, Cashmere and Gloss, one with long, sharp nails that none of the others had, Enobaria. A really burly one, Brutus and a couple of spindly ones, the morphlings.

Bile rose in my throat as Katniss annihilated them all. Then just as everyone thought the simulation had ended, a final hologram appeared. Smaller and thinner than all the others and it threw a golden blaze at her which she ducked and suddenly an arrow was lodged in it and it dissolved like all the others. It was clear that it was supposed to be. All the movements of the other holograms had been techniques the corresponding victors used in their games, the weapons they were most famed for using. And the Capitol had simply taken those moves and projected them into the simulation. But for me, the only moves I had back then were throwing that one knife and then my shoes. So that was what they had to use. I stayed frozen in my spot as the others stared at Katniss, contemplating looks in their eyes. I could see the cogs turning in their brains, they wanted her as their ally, who wouldn't to be honest. She was the favourite to win at the moment- perhaps also Finnick- and she would get sponsors upon sponsors. I watched her gaze pass over all of them to settle on me; I stared back at her blankly for a moment before she looked over to Peeta who stood watching her from the camouflage station, his arm covered in detailed paintings of rocks and tree bark. He smiled slightly and turned back to his work.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see a grinning Finnick.

“Quite the spectacle she's put on wouldn't you say?” He asked and I hummed in response. “She'd be a good ally.” I shrugged.

“I guess.”

“You guess?” He scoffed. “With an aim like that she could take out all of us in a matter of seconds.” My lip quirked upwards at his words. He didn't know just how true they were.

“I suppose, but if she was your ally, one wrong move and you'd be six feet under. But by all means, ally with the girl on fire; when she decides to kill you- don't say I didn't warn you.” I spun on my heel and strode away from him, my shoulder tingled where he had touched me and I felt a tug in my chest at the growing distance. It was as if the more time we spent around each other the more the- well I suppose the word that the Capitol used to describe it was a bond- the more the bond seemed to recognise us as soulmates and tried to drag us together. It was the only reasonable explanation for why he was talking to me.

I walked with my head down, stepping to the side to avoid bumping into other people. I made my way to a station where the two from district 3 had settled themselves at after struggling to light a fire and were fiddling around with wires and bolts. I sat myself down and picked up a few thin pieces of bronze metal. I twisted them together, intricately weaving them in a complicated pattern so they formed a pin of sorts. I twisted my hair up and stuck it through, the metal scraping along my scalp as I shook my head to make sure it was secure.

“The gamemakers won't be too impressed with that.” Beetee spoke quietly from beside me and I made a face.

“I don't really care. They're the ones hiding behind a forcefield.” His gaze sharpened.

“How do you know that?” I shrugged in response.

“The shimmer in the corners. Makes it look a bit like glass but they don't want us to know they're afraid of us and glass is too noticeable. Next best thing is a forcefield, I mean it uses a lot of the energy in this place. Zaps it like,” I snapped my fingers, “that, but most people won't know how to recognise it at all so they can keep up their pretences without worrying about one of us trying to murder them where they stand.”

Beetee stared at you for a second before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“A scholar I see.”

“Just curious.”

“Not even some adults back home would be able to tell me that.” Beetee murmured. “You've done your research.” I looked up to the gamemakers.

“Well,” I spoke softly, scratching at my wrist absently,”you never know what they'll throw at you and it's always good to be prepared.” He hummed in assent as Wiress tugged on a loose strand of my hair, babbling nonsense under her breath. I gently extracted myself from her fingers and wished them a pleasant day, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, before I left them to fiddle with their little toys.

I found myself wandering through the huge building, mindlessly gazing around. My eyes flitting over the white surfaces, shining brightly in the even whiter light from the ceilings. All of a sudden I heard voices. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, was that Finnick and Haymitch? Talking to Plutarch Heavensbee? I listened intently, pressing myself against the wall next to the tiny crack in the door to hear better. My eyes gradually widened with each sentence that left their mouths, I couldn't believe it myself, I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't been hearing it directly from the source. They stopped talking and I ran. I sprinted down the corridors and to the lifts, frantically pressing the buttons as I entered and running out just as quickly. I didn't slow down until I slammed the door to my room shut and launched myself onto my bed, clutching a pillow so hard my knuckles started to turn white. They were planning to get Katniss out of the games and start a revolution. A revolution. My mind repeated those words for minutes, my mouth moving to spell it out in disbelief. Slowly the disbelief I felt faded into determination. They clearly hadn’t been about to tell me anything about it, I wouldn’t be included in their alliance. But I could sure as hell help.

Throughout the next couple of days, I woke up as early as possible to train without anyone watching me. I would take my ballet shoes down with me and wear them as I threw knives at the holograms, rise onto my toes and dance around them in circles until my feet were bleeding and bruised. The pain only made me work harder, if I could fight with my feet broken beneath me then I could run forever and wouldn’t feel a thing. On the last day before the games would begin I did the same as I had been. But when I had destroyed the holograms a hundred times over I didn’t stop, I dropped the daggers in my hands and closed my eyes as I spun and leapt. For the first time in years no one was watching me and I could just dance. Even on the train there had been cameras pointed at me but in the interest of not wanting anyone to get mad and try to kill them the gamemakers had left the training room cameraless. So I danced as if I was a child again and my mother was watching me from the door of the house cheering me on. And then I fell. My ankle gave out beneath me and I crashed to the floor. I landed on my side, my arms crossed to hold my head off the floor. I pushed myself up and undid my shoes; pulled them off my feet and stood up. When I fell I had accidentally pressed a button and holograms had appeared again. I reached down to grab the daggers again as they advanced towards me.

“You wanna play?” One of them threw the knife they were holding at me. It skimmed my cheek; I lifted a hand up to touch it. My fingers came away red and I laughed quietly. “Fine, I’ll play.” With that something inside me cracked and I leapt forward. I was like a hurricane as they all rushed at me and I weaved through the gaps leaving bloody footprints wherever I stepped. I rained down blow after blow on them, if holograms could bleed I would have been covered. But they couldn’t bleed and they couldn’t die, they just disintegrated into orange sparks whenever my blade hit home in their rib cages only for more to take their place. I dodged and threw and stabbed until I thought the simulation ended and I stood in the centre of the room. The air moved and in the blink of an eye I spun and struck, the last thing I saw of the hologram was the trident in it's hand. Then I heard the clapping.

I turned around quickly to see Johanna watching me. I quickly stepped outside.

“What do you want?” She grinned.

“Who knew you could fight princess. I’d actually be quite impressed if I didn’t think you’d payed for some poor Capitol bastard to teach you.” A hysterical giggle forced itself out of my throat and for a second an unreadable expression passed over her face like a cloud. I picked up my shoes by the ribbons and let them dangle by my legs as her eyes went to my feet. “Aww did standing up by herself for a moment make the princesses feet hurt?” I swallowed.

“You don’t know me Johanna Mason.” I spat. “You don’t know anything about me so do not make assumptions about things that you do not understand.” She watched me walk away, yelling after me.

“See you later princess.” I ignored her, focusing on not leaving a trail of blood back to the room.

A few hours later, after I had bandaged up my feet, I headed back down for the evaluations. The others were already there and I sat down at the end of a bench. Feeling eyes on me I looked up and locked eyes with Katniss, she stood up and made her way over to me. She sat down silently and I looked at the pin she had on her top.

“A mockingjay.” She looked up at me surprised.

“Yeah. How did you know?” I laughed.

“Some members of the Capitol have them as pets. Ones they managed to catch after the jabberjays bred with mockingbirds. They domesticated them and have them sing all day every day.” My voice turned sharp. “They don’t like being reminded of their failures so they turn them into spectacles.” My head turned as the robotic voice spoke ‘Y/N L/N report for evaluation.’ I stood up slowly and walked past Finnick who was exiting and into the training room. I was greeted by the sight of the gamemakers laughing and talking with each other, completely ignoring my presence as I made my way over to the weapons stand. One of them spared me a glance before dismissing me. They knew who I was and they didn’t think I was a threat. I took a step forward, narrowing my eyes and realised something. The force field was strong if it was concentrated, but it was only being held together by four balls that it was projected out of, one in each corner creating a screen. So it was strong at the outside but where it all met in the centre would be weaker. I grinned at my revelation and practically skipped back to the table with the knives on. I picked one up and balanced it on my finger, I quickly looked around and grabbed a long piece of rope, tying it around the handle. I twisted the end of the rope around one hand and pirouetted, as my head whipped to the front I let the knife fly through the air, right through the centre of the forcefield. It embedded itself in a piece of watermelon and then the wall. I gripped the rope harder and yanked towards me, I caught the knife and raised the dripping red fruit up to my mouth to take a bite as I curtseyed deeply, dipping my head and letting my foot slide as far behind as possible. I smiled sweetly at their horrified expressions. You can almost see the thoughts running through their heads I mused as I walked calmly out of the room, head held high.

I was waylaid by Lysander who dragged me back to the room and made Finnick and I sit until the scoring was announced hours later, I was almost falling asleep in my chair. Yawning widely and eyes drooping until the music sounded and I bolted up. The second Gloss’ photo appeared on screen with a score of 10 flashing under him my heart sank. My little outburst would probably not have gained me anything other than a low score. The rest of the careers had predicatably high scores, Brutus an 11 and Finnick the same. Lysander screeched happily at his score, patting him on the back furiously and I murmured my congratulations. Then it was my turn. My face appeared on the screen and a bright bold number 12 flashed underneath it. I spat out my water in shock and blinked rapidly as Lysander gaped at the screen. Mags patted me gently on the shoulder, giving me a small smile; Finnick leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“Congratulations angel.” The nickname shook me out of my trance.

“Angel?” He shrugged and gave me an easy smile.

“Yeah, you looked like an angel on the chariots and you certainly act like an angel, especially with that little girl.” His voice turned serious. “But something tells me you aren’t such an angel as everyone thinks you are.” My lip twitched and I forced it to stay in a straight line.

“Maybe you’re right.” I turned around, my back to him, his eyes searing into my skin as I whispered. “But some things cannot be determined with a passing glance.”

The next day was the day of the interviews. I was slumped in a chair, clad in a silk robe, as my prep team scoured my body. They perfected every imperfection they could find until my skin was like a blank canvas. All the while they chattered, asking me not so subtly about my evaluation score and even less subtly if I had a soulmate- thankfully they didn’t question my insistency that I covered my wrist while they ‘cleaned me up’. I ignored them for the most part until Priscilla began to waffle on about Finnick. I clenched my fists and tried to block her out, waiting for her to finish. But she wouldn't stop, she went on and on about him, his… relationships with Capitol women and then what a shame it was that he might die. My fingernails dug crescent moons into my palms until I felt pinpricks of pain and saw tiny specks of blood beading on my skin. I settled for fiddling with the robe until they left. The girls walked through the door giggling with each other as Quintus turned around to me.

“I understand how you feel.”

“What?” I asked confused.

“You have a soulmate yes?” I nodded slowly. “But he either doesn’t want you or doesn’t know about you.” I nodded again.

“The second.”

“I had a soulmate once.”

“You did?” I mumbled.

“It was about 15 years ago. I had just started working here for the games and she was a tribute.” He laughed slightly and ran his hand through his hair. “She hated me, I tried to get her to run away with me before the games could start but she wouldn’t let the kid from her district die even if it meant she lived. They only lasted 5 days in the arena.” He smiled sadly. “But those last couple of days she was alive and I got to see her were the best couple of days in my life.”

“What are you saying?” I whispered.

“Don’t waste time. Every second with the ones we love is precious.” Just as suddenly as he had begun the conversation he left the doorway, leaving me in silence.

Soon enough Megara came in, laden with bags upon bags containing god knows what. She dragged a chair over and sat down opposite me. She pulled out a teapot and two cups before setting them down on the table ignoring my incredulous look. She poured tea into the two cups added a splash of milk and sugar to one and gave me an inquisitive look. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I poured milk into the cup and spooned 3 teaspoons of sugar into the cup.

“So honey, how are you feeling about the interviews?”

“Honey? Aren’t you younger than me.”

“Nope,” she popped the p,” I’m 24.” I sighed.

“They can only go so badly right.” She grinned; took a sip of her tea, placed it down, stood up and walked over to a huge bag hung up on the door.

“I suppose we’ll see then.” She unzipped the bag and I gasped.

Taglist:

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[virgil-my-emo-son]

I Will Deliver--Chapter One: The Apple Falls

Hi guys!!! I'm so excited to post this fic, I've been working on it for a while, and I'm super excited to share it. I wrote this for the @sandersidesbigbang event, and I have had the chance to work with the most incredible group of betas and artists on this fic! Thank you to @antisocial-xxxpert , @lemme-overthink-this , @kaythegay2022 , @bisexualoftheblade , and @talking4the1 for helping with this fic, I really admire and appreciate all of you so much!

chapter word count: 2911

summary:

Remus Rook is the best witch in the city. People come to him when they need results, and he’s happy to fulfill any murder requests at the right price. 

Logan Skye is a student at Thomas University. He’s writing his thesis on magical ethics. Naturally, he goes to the most ethically dubious witch he can find: Remus. 

So what happens when a friend of Remus hires him to kill the researcher fast becoming more than a colleague?

read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41628708/chapters/104418612

Chapter One: The Apple Falls

    Logan followed the directions he’d been given exactly: down the alleyway, up the fire escape, through the window, down the hall, down the stairs, down more stairs. He finally arrived at a heavy wooden door, carved with ornate patterns and sigils. 

Logan reached up to trace one with his finger. He didn’t understand the symbols fully, but based on what distorted runes he could make out he thought it might have been for warding. He knocked thrice on the door and waited. It opened a few seconds later, by some invisible force. He walked in.

The room was everything Logan had expected and more. It was long and dark, with a couple of mossy windows at the top of one of the walls letting in green-tinted light. A big metal cabinet sat next to the door, and tiny drawers and shelves lined the rest of the walls. The ceiling was painted with symbols and images Logan couldn’t even begin to decipher, and the wood floor had splatters of paint and some sort of brown-black stains. A counter ran along the wall opposite the windows, covered in bottles and alchemical tools.  And in the center of it all, in a crusty office chair with five little swivel wheels, sat the Duke of this wretched kingdom.

Remus Rook, the renowned head of Sanders City’s magical underworld. He was in a white wife beater and black cargo pants covered in patches, safety pins, embroidery, and chains. His brown, curly mullet had a white streak through it, and there was a cocky grin under his mustache. He held a black baseball bat between his legs, a baseball bat that was said to be his wand.

Logan couldn’t take his eyes off him. He was captivating. 

“Gonna say something, handsome? Or are you just gonna stand there staring like a decapitated head?” Remus’s grin grew even wider.

Well, that imagery certainly woke Logan up. 

“Were you anticipating my arrival? I only told one person that I was coming…” Logan trailed off.

“One person is enough for it to get back to me. I have eyes in the Skye.” His eyes twinkled at the pun.

Logan cleared his throat. “Well. You already know me, I’m Logan Skye. And you’re Remus Rook.”

“Yes, I am.” Remus raised an eyebrow. “What do you want, Logan?”

Logan straightened his glasses. “I’m actually here with a request.”

“Everyone is, what makes you so special?”

“Well.” Logan tried to remember what he’d rehearsed in the mirror. “I’m a student at Thomas University, and I’m working on my thesis right now. It’s on magical ethics, and I was wondering if–”

Remus began laughing. “Because–because I’m a very unethical witch! I get it, I get it! You want to interview me or some shit!”

“Actually, I want to work with you for a few weeks or so.” Logan was beginning to get irritated by Remus’s nonchalance. 

“Work with me!” Remus’s laughter died down. “Oh, you’re funny, Logan.” He winked. 

“So, are you willing to do it?”

“Am I willing to do it… I’m not sure. Maybe I should test you or something first.”

Logan’s stomach lurched. Test him? What exactly did that entail?

“I’m going to test you.” Remus repeated. “I have to know you won’t just hand me over to the police, don’t I?”

“I suppose so…” Logan was apprehensive about this. He had a feeling Remus’s next words were going to be something illegal.

He was right. “I want you to go with me on a hit. I want you to help with the hit. That way, you can’t turn me in without turning yourself in as well!”

“Remus–I can promise you I don’t want to turn you in. I am here for research purposes alone, that I can promise you.”

“Yes, but how do I know that? When you’re running a magical underworld, you’ve got to be careful, you know.”

“There must be a better way to test my truthfulness than having me help you with a murder.” Logan was getting nervous.

“Hm… let’s see.” Remus tapped his chin. “What if… you run a little errand for me.”

“What kind of errand?” 

“No murder, don’t worry. It is a bit… unsavory, though.” Remus’s eyebrows went up as he saw the expression on Logan’s face. “Can’t handle it?”

“I can–I can handle it. What’s your task?”

“Do you know who Roman Prince is?”

“The musician?” 

“The musician.”

“Yes, I know who he is.”

“I have a message for my twin brother.” A smile uncoiled across Remus’s face.

“You’re twins?”

“Duh.” Remus looked at Logan like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We look identical.”

“Well, I’ve never seen you before today, and you don’t have the same surname. Although it is common for those in the entertainment industry to take on new names, so I suppose I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Besides, I don’t follow Roman Prince.”

“You don’t?” Remus’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Nope, I’ve never been a huge…music person.”

“I like you already, Logan! Everyone just fawns over him constantly, it drives me insane.” He put on a mocking voice. “‘What a prodigy you are, Roman.’ ‘You’re so talented, Roman.’ Where’s my appreciation, Logan? Who will love Remus Rook?” He put the back of his hand to his forehead, leaning back in the chair.

Logan quirked an eyebrow. So dramatic.

“Anyway!” Remus sat up. “I need you to tell him this: ‘Fuck you, Roman. Also, I painted you. If you want to see it, come to the studio. Love, Remus.’”

“That’s it? How does that ensure that I won’t turn you in?”

“It’s code, dummy. And if we get caught, we can easily tell them that you were also involved.”

“Okay, okay.” Logan sighed. “I’ll deliver your message.” 

Remus smiled a huge smile. “Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow? But Roman has a huge concert tonight, I don’t know if i can get it to him—“

“If you can’t get it to him tonight, I don’t know if I can trust you to do anything for me, can I?” Remus raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t—“

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Logan.” Remus turned his swivel chair back towards the counter and began mixing a few ingredients. It was clear Logan’s audience with the Duke was over.

He sighed and walked out of the room.

How was he going to get this message to Roman in time? Luckily, the concert was in Sanders City, but there was no way Logan would be able to get backstage to see the musician, or even one of his assistants. He would just send a letter or an email, but neither of those options would reach him in time, and they probably would be treated as regular fan mail and would never reach Roman at all. The superstar was known for being somewhat vain, but he surely didn’t read every note a fan wrote him. 

Logan sat in his car for a minute, just thinking. He could come up with something. Remus was key to his dissertation, he had to come up with something. 

He snapped his fingers as an idea hit him. Press pass. He wrote for Thomas University’s newspaper. It could work. 

But would it work so close to the concert? He’d have to see.

He dialed the editor’s number and held it up to his ear. “Hello, Patton.”

“Hiya, Logan! What’s up?”

“I—“ Logan cleared his throat. “I need a favor.”

“A favor? What kind of favor?” Patton sounded amused. Logan assumed he wasn’t used to him asking for things, he usually tried to keep to himself. 

“I need to get into Roman Prince’s concert tonight.” 

“What for?”

Logan sighed. “It’s a lengthy tale, Patton, and one I can’t legally disclose.”

“Now I’m even more curious!” Patton laughed. 

“Do you have any way to get me a press pass?”

“A press pass? Do you need to get backstage?”

“Yes. I have to see Roman Prince himself.”

“Really? That would be incredible, I love him! If I’d thought of it, I’d have gotten a pass for myself!” 

Logan’s mouth made a tight grin, even though Patton wasn’t actually there to see it. “Yes, well, I need it as soon as possible. Is there any way you can get ahold of one for me, preferably within the hour? I can lengthen it to two if necessary. I need it soon, is what I’m saying.”

“I think I can do that! I’ve only done a press pass once before, and it was for a much smaller concert, but I’ll call Sanders Arena and see what I can do!” 

“Thank you so much, Patton. If there is any way I can repay this favor, please let me know.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Logan. I’m always happy to do something for a friend!” 

“You are–” Logan cleared his throat. “You are the best, as they say.”

“Aw, thanks! I’ll give you a call back in a few, alright?”

“Alright. Talk to you soon.”

“Talk soon! Bye!”

“Goodbye.” Logan said, sounding a bit stilted and formal, before he hung up.

Now all there was was to wait.

—

Three hours before the concert, Logan began to get nervous. He would need to get in soon if he wanted to see Roman Prince. He didn’t like feeling nervous, it was something he was relatively unfamiliar with. Twice in one day, no less. 

He picked up his cell phone and began to type Patton’s number in when the phone began to buzz. As luck would have it, it was Patton. 

“Logan! Great news, I managed to get you a pass! I just emailed it to you.”

Logan breathed a sigh. “Thank you Patton, so much.”

“No problem, Logan! Although at some point I want to hear why you needed it so last minute.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell you that story, it may implicate you legally.” 

Patton laughed. “Whatever you say, L!”

“‘L’?” Logan repeated. 

“Just a nickname.”

“A nickname? Logan is my name, although I suppose I could also answer to L.”

“You’re funny, L! I’ll talk to ya later, okay?”

“Alright, goodbye, Patton.”

“Bye, L!” And with that, Patton hung up. 

Logan signed into his email and printed off the PDF Patton had sent him, folding it and putting it into his pocket. He hastened (not ran, hastened) to his car. He was more reckless than he usually was. Logan was anxious, and his driving reflected it. 

He parked downtown, paying a frankly ridiculous price for a spot. Walking into the venue, he looked at the printout. It instructed him to proceed to the VIP lounge and from there meet one of the venue employees to be led backstage. 

He made it backstage with two and a half hours left to the concert. The backstage area was full of folding tables, a rack of clothes stood to one side, and there were cables everywhere. Crew members in black t-shirts walked around, stopping to talk to each other along the walls or in the middle of the room.

“Do you have Roman’s costume change for after Color?”

“That’s the third one, right?”

“Did Alex take that mic?”

“I’m not sure, but where’s the on-site alchemist? One of the sound tech’s throats hurts and he wants something for it.”

Logan just stood there for a second, taking it all in. 

“What are you doing?” A voice said to him. Logan turned to see a tall man with sunglasses standing beside him.

Logan didn’t even blink. “I have a press pass.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “A press pass, huh?”

“Yes.” Logan pulled it out of his pocket, showing the credentials to the man. 

“Hm. Well, are you here for anything in particular? I don’t see a camera.”

“I’m supposed to get an interview with Roman Prince.” Of course, this wasn’t true, the press pass wasn’t that specific, but Logan figured a little lie wouldn’t hurt. In fact, he was sure Remus would encourage it. 

“His dressing room is right in here.”

Logan couldn’t believe his luck.

He walked in and the man closed the door behind him. Sitting in a chair, facing away from him, was a figure in an iridescent silver shirt and what looked to be red leather pants.

And next to him sat someone Logan was not too happy to see. 

Logan cleared his throat. “Roman, Remus. I came to deliver a message, but it doesn’t look like that will be necessary any longer.”

Remus turned around, a smile uncoiling across his face. “Logan! You came! We were getting worried you wouldn’t show up!”

“Well, I went to some lengths to get here, but I now see that it was unnecessary.”

“Thank you for coming to see me, I hope you at least got free tickets to the show?” Roman said, smiling dazzlingly at Logan. He looked almost exactly like his brother, very attractive, but sans mustache.

Logan found that he liked the mustache better. 

“I got a press pass, I don’t think that includes tickets.” 

“You can watch the show from backstage! The sound is better back here anyway!”

Logan stared at him. “How would you know?”

Roman’s smile faltered. “Take my word for it. It really does sound much better.” 

Logan turned to Remus. “Are you staying for the show?”

“Not sure! I just wanted to see if you’d actually show up, so I had Roman let me in.”

“Must I still tell Roman your message, or have you already delivered it?”

“You can tell him!” Remus grinned. 

Logan sighed. “‘ Fuck you Roman. Also, I painted you. If you want to see it, come down to the studio. Love, Remus.”

“Hm. I… see.” Roman looked deep in thought, almost exaggeratedly so, his thumb and forefinger rubbing his chin. 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You are aware that I sped to get here, correct?”

“You’re worried about a little speeding? Oh, I went at least 15 over the whole way here! If the cops don’t catch you it’s not illegal!” Remus said with a huge smile bordering on manic. 

Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Well if we’re done here—“

“Wait!” Remus reached out to grab his arm. “You should stay. We can watch Roman’s show!” 

“You’re welcome to stay! I can even do a little pre-show for you!” Roman opened his mouth to begin singing, but Remus clapped his other hand over his mouth.

“No offense, brother, but I don’t think either of us want to hear you sing.”

Roman looked indignant. “Why do you want to stay at the show, then? Riddle me that, brother?”

“I probably shouldn’t.” Logan shook Remus off. “We won’t be able to see anything from back here, anyway.”

“There’s TVs back here, it would be fine.” Remus snapped his fingers. “Or! Roman, dearest brother, is there any way you could snag us VIP tickets?”

Roman sighed. “I suppose I could.”

“Perfect!” 

Remus picked up the black baseball bat leaning against the wall, and they walked out of the dressing room. The tall man who’d directed Logan to Roman’s dressing room, whom Logan assumed to be some sort of manager, walked them to the VIP lounge. This turned out to be a balcony directly facing the stage, with a few tables of refreshments and a bar to one side. It was already relatively full, and as Logan looked into the rest of the arena, he could see the seats beginning to fill up. 

The people in the lounge mostly avoided them, eyeing Remus’s baseball bat nervously. Remus didn’t seem to mind, putting it over his shoulder and walking to the front row of seats. Logan followed. 

They sat down in two of the seats, Remus leaning back and spreading his legs, holding his bat between them. He looked and acted like he owned the place. 

Logan, meanwhile, perched on the end of the chair, ready to get up at a moment’s notice. He was a little on edge, for some reason. 

Maybe it was the fact that he was at a concert for an artist he didn’t even like, with the leader of an underground group of witches known as The Duke.

But funnily enough, he didn’t mind Remus’s company. 

“Relax a bit!” Remus bumped his shoulder, and Logan shifted back a little in his seat. “It’s a concert, not a funeral.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know a single one of the songs Roman Prince is about to sing.”

“Oh, who cares about that! Concerts are fun.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been to one.”

Remus turned to look at him, eyes going wide. “Fucking what?”

“I’ve never been to a concert.” Logan repeated. 

“Oh my god.” Remus said. “Well, I’d really prefer if my brother didn’t take your concert virginity.” He winked. “You know, I can sing.”

Logan could feel his face go red. “Well, I–we already have VIP tickets here, and I do want to see Roman–”

“Calm down, you think too much.” Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You need to be less uptight. More impulsive!”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “More impulsive, huh?”

“Yeah! It makes things far more… fun.” There was a twinkle in Remus’s eye. 

Logan closed his eyes, sighing for a long moment. “I’m going to get a drink, I’ll be back in a minute.” Before Remus could say anything, he walked off, trying to calm his beating heart.