#and remus has an eyepatch because i say so

[keter-class-anomaly]

I recreated the cover for remus's theme!

...with a couple little changes of course!

i'm REALLY happy with how this turned out!

i can't wait to hang it up on my wall when i get home TvT

just the line art:

they look better irl lol

[loganscroftersstash]

the eye of the storm.

platonic loceit/dlampr

—

hello gang

it has been… a while since i’ve written sanders sides content. i was into it for years before i dropped it and now i’ve picked it back up again. i forgot how much i loved this series. i’ve been rewatching it and remembered just how much i was so excited for the reveal of the super mysterious and spooky orange side, and i got a little pang of inspiration from the working through intrusive thoughts aside video. here is some really shitty angst/comfort; it’s been a while so my characterizations may be off, apologies in advance. and also my apologies for the spacing— i wrote this on docs and i didn’t realize the spacing would be so wide. sorry!!

scroll to v end for authors notes!

—

The date with Nico had gone so good! Thomas was reeling him in hook, line, and sinker; and Remus was able to be contained for the whole time! Sure, he had some moments, but nothing that none of them couldn’t handle. Now, as the sun set and shades of fuchsia and orange painted the sky above the exhibit, everyone decided it was time to go home.

The moment Thomas began to walk back all of the sides sank out, reappearing in his mind in an all too familiar routine. Remus was the only one absent for their outing, everyone else should have been here.

While Roman and Patton were happily reminiscing about the date, exchanging compliments and giggles, Virgil glanced around. He refused to glance in a certain serpent’s direction, but the room still felt empty.

Something was off.

Was it the coffee table? Couch? Maybe the blanket…?

Click.

“Where’s Logan?”

That seemed to break Roman and Patton from their conversation, and they both turned to look at Virgil.

“…Hey, yeah! Where’s our Logan?” Patton asked.

“Oh, who cares! He’s probably sulking because Thomas went out and had fun with the cutest frickin’ guy ever!” Roman proclaims, overly dramatic as always.

Patton puts his hands on his hips. “Now, Roman. Be nice to Logan! He was just trying to get Thomas to be productive— ya can’t argue the state of his home is a little…”

“Revolting?” Virgil finishes the sentence for him.

“I was gonna say icky, but that works too!” Patton grins at Virgil. “But anyway, don’t get mad at him for trying to help!”

“Pfft— help. Nerd.” Roman chuckles, earning a slight glare from Patton. “He could try to help by not getting in the way of our already non-existent love life!”

“You know, Patton’s right, Roman.” Janus murmurs from his corner. “Your twin gave him quite the bit of trouble today…”

Roman straightens his posture, almost defensive, as he glares at the slimy fiend. “What do you mean? What did that mangy mongrel do to him?”

Janus shrugs. “Oh. Nothing. I’m sure you wouldn’t care about that, Logan is just a speed bump on the road to love, and all that…” He says dismissively.

“Tell. Me.” Roman insists, moving closer towards Janus. “What did he do?”

Janus examines his glove, almost unbothered before he looks up at Roman. “Well…”

Roman glares. A silent message to get it the hell over with.

“When Thomas was up in the wee hours of the night, Logan and him decided on a new schedule. You know how those work out for Thomas.”

“Yeah. They don’t.” Roman murmured.

“Mhm. Usually it’s just because Thomas is more… spontaneous. Carefree, if you will. He likes to jump from task to task. Doing a list can be overwhelming, but Logan was just so dedicated to helping him stick to it. And poor Thomas even wanted to do it!…”

“…Jan. You lied, kiddo.”

“Whatever.” Janus shrugs. “Anyways. Remus decided to make Logan’s life a living hell by trying to kill or maim Thomas or Logan himself, but usually he ended up hurting himself.”

“Is that where the sparkly green eyepatch came from?!” Roman gasped.

“…Yes.” Janus murmured. “Anyways. Logan tried to reason with him and—”

“Is no one gonna ask why he knows all this?!” Virgil interjects.

Janus huffs. “Are ANY of you going to let me talk?!” He sighs. “And before you ask, I listen. To everything. Are there ANYMORE questions before I answer the first one?!”

Patton raises his hand for a moment before it shoots back down.

“Perfect. Great. Back to what I was saying… Logan confronted Remus after a few failed attempts and tried to reason with him, because this was one of the few times he’s actually gotten Thomas on a schedule and he tried to stick to it. So, you can tell why he’d be a little irritated about his incessant attempts at getting him off task.”

Roman raises a brow. “And…?”

“Logan screamed at him.”

“Oh.” Roman chuckles. “Yeah, he does that—”

“His eyes shone orange.”

A silence fell over the room. There was a silent, unspoken yet unified agreement that they all knew what that meant. And they knew it was bad.

Virgil was the first to break the silence. “…fuck.”

“…Did… Thomas? See? Do we have to have another confrontation so soon?!” Patton gasped.

“No. No he didn’t. Remus mocked him for the outburst almost instantly and as far as I’m aware, the interaction was over after that.”

“…What made Logan lose his cool that badly over something like that?” Roman hummed.

Janus rolled his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you all ignore him?”

“How dare you! I don’t ignore Mark Zucker-nerd; I just don’t listen to him!”

“…Roman. Buddy. That’s ignoring.”

Roman paused, looking down. “…so it is! But either way— we don’t ignore him, Janus. It isn’t my fault he never has anything helpful to add!”

“Oh, please. Logan is literally the embodiment of Logic. He’s resolved how many of these past issues? Logan does the most and gets the least reward, Roman. You have the most influence over our host, followed by Patton and Virgil. Maybe lately me and Remus have had a little fun taking the wheel every now and again— but when was the last time you let Logan make a big decision? You decided to skip the callback, you decided to go on the date. All Logan gets influence on is his little passion project, which he’s probably abandoned at this point because I seriously doubt there’s much passion left in him.”

Janus’ rant has left the other sides staring; Roman in disbelief, mostly at the audacity, Patton in shame, and Virgil in guilt. Deep down, they knew Janus was right.

“…Okay. Maybe I’ve been… a little… controlling.” Roman murmured.

“A lot.” Janus hummed.

Patton leans over to him, “Hey, Jan— kiddo. Small wins.”

“Right, Patton,” He whispers back, sighing. “Anyway. I suggest we try to make this up to Logan one way or another. After we make sure he’s alright.”

“I’m not checking on him. I love the guy, but if I step ten feet near conflict I’ll throw up and die.” Virgil mumbles, throwing his hood up.

“Logan doesn’t usually take comfort from me all that well. I think he finds it kinda patronizing…” Patton frowns. “But I’d be happy to try!”

“No, you're right… and he’d only think I was mocking him.” Roman murmured.

One by one, all their eyes drift to Janus.

“…You want me to go in there. Don’t you.”

“Well, yeah! You’re the most neutral with him! Logan doesn't know you super well and while I’m sure he didn’t appreciate your impersonating of him, I think you see eye to eye with him on a lotta stuff! That helps!” Patton grinned. “You might be the best candidate for this kinda thing.”

Virgil sighs. “….I can’t believe I’m agreeing with this… but yeah. Janus is the best candidate for this particular job…”

“…Of course. Fine. I’ll go check on him.” Janus huffs. He leaves his little corner in the shadows, brushing past the other three and making his way down the hallway. It doesn’t take him long to reach Logan’s door. Usually there’s light peeking from underneath the door, but that’s absent this time. Hmm…

Janus knocks three times.

Usually a “one moment” or a “come in” would follow. But there is silence.

Janus waits a moment, before knocking again, this time accompanying it with a “Logan? You alright?”

He’s met with silence again.

Janus sighs, placing his hand on the doorknob and twisting slowly. He pushes the door open, peeking in just a bit to get an idea of what he’s getting himself into.

The moment the door opens just a crack it’s blown open with immeasurable force, pulling Janus inside and slamming the door behind him. The room is barely a room anymore— more so a culmination of wind. Janus can make out a few objects— calendars with black and red marker scribbled over the dates, some books and some pages torn from them, blank sheets of paper, and a few pens and little knickknacks. Glancing around quickly, Janus realizes there’s a soft, barely there orange glow coming from the center of the room.

Fuck.

“Logan!” Janus calls, trying to push his way through but inevitably getting pushed back against the door. “Logan, let me in! I will help!”

There’s some sort of loud noise, but Janus can barely make it out throughout the pounding sound of wind against his ears.

Fine. Be difficult. It takes a lot of strength, and a lot of mental willpower, but he’s able to carve out a path directly into the eye of the storm. Janus heaves a bit as he walks, immediately taking note of Logan.

He’s… never seen the other so distressed. And honestly, it stings.

Logan is sat on the floor on his knees, hunched over and sobbing. Janus has never seen him cry, never heard it either. But this is just too much…

“…Logan?” He calls quietly, softly. Trying his best not to startle the other.

Said side looks up with a horrified gaze. His eyes gleam with amber tones and the best descriptor Janus has at the moment is overwhelmed.

“Calm down, calm down.” Janus shushes, kneeling to Logan’s level. Instinctively, Logan tries to back away, and Janus lets him. He gives Logan his space. “Deep breaths. Breathe…”

And he tries. All he can manage is panicked and shaky short breaths that can’t be delivering much air to his brain. Janus could see this plain as day. “Logan. Think you’re stable enough to talk?”

Logan glances up and after a moment's hesitation, he nods quickly.

“Five things you can see. Can you do that for me?”

Logan glances around quickly. “Books.” He murmurs, almost rapid as he speaks. “…Calendar. Marker. Pen…” He looks around again. “Cube.”

“Alright. Good. Four things you can feel?”

“…Clothes. Glasses.” His tone is almost robotic, despite it being watery. “Wind… and… and… and the floor.”

Janus can see and feel the wind slowing, even if just a little bit.

“Good. How about three things you can hear?”

“You. Me. Wind.”

“Almost done. Two things you can smell?”

“Um…” Logan panics again. Another question he can’t answer. Of course. “Cologne? Maybe… and… and…”

“Focus, Logan. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

“…Ink.”

“Good. Last one. One thing you can taste.”

“Salt…”

The wind slows to a stop. All the objects fall from where they were propelled. They could deal with that later.

“See? You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Logan looks up, eyes still watery and overflowing with tears. He’s shaking. The word that comes to Janus’ mind is helpless. He knows it’d make Logan worse so he decides to keep that thought inside.

“Now. Would you like to talk about this?”

“I don’t know how!” His tone is surprisingly aggressive, but it doesn’t seem like Logan. It’s out of character for him. He’s crumbling. “I don’t know how to… to talk about this! I’ve never— I’ve never felt so… so…”

“Breathe, Logan.” Janus offers. “It’s alright. Just—”

“LET ME TALK.” Logan shouts; the ferocity of the moment is only comparable to earlier when Remus had pushed too far.

And Janus falls silent. He doesn’t take it personally. He knows it isn’t— Logan is just so overcome with it all he’s lost control. He knows just how bad they can be.

And Logan realizes just what he’s done a moment after, and he falls back into helpless sobs, curling around himself. He feels so fucking awful. Not only is he useless, but he’s an asshole too. Another flaw to add to the ever growing list.

“Logan, I know you’re overwhelmed…” Janus reaches a hand out to touch, but he hesitates, and quickly lets it fall back to his side. “Tell me what’s going on. What’s got you so upset?”

Logan hesitates speaking, before he sobs out his words, “I’m so awful, Janus…”

“If this is about today, you’re not. Remus is especially heinous and you know that—”

“It isn’t just today!” He shouts. “It’s getting harder and harder to do my job and get through to him— I-I’m not good enough, Janus. I can’t do anything anymore! I used to be able to… to do everything, and it was fine. My calendars were in perfect order, I kept the others in check while maintaining a balance— I wasn’t a fucking emotional wreck!” Logan sobs, looking up at Janus desperately. “I’m useless. I can’t— I’m not—”

“Logan. You’re magnetizing.” Janus murmurs.

“Magnifying.” He corrects.

“See? You’re still capable of doing your job. And you still do your job just fine.” Janus puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, smoothing over the wrinkled shirt. “Everyone’s been in chaos these last few months… and that’s partly me and Remus’ fault. We haven’t been easy adjustments.” He sighed. “But,” And he holds up his finger with a dramatic pause, “You of all people have been the most versatile. You put forth your best effort Logan— more so than the other sides have. You know that.”

“But my best isn’t good enough.”

“It is. It is. You don’t believe it is, but it is.” Janus assures. “It isn’t your fault you’re getting overshadowed.”

“Perhaps if my methods were different, if my tactics were better—”

“Shhh.” Janus presses his finger to Logan’s lips, effectively silencing him momentarily.

“Logan. You’re doing nothing wrong.”

“Then why am I getting ignored?”

Janus didn’t have an answer immediately. And he could tell that upset Logan even further, despite the fact he was trying to conceal his tears.

“I don’t know, Logan. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “But I’ll never ignore you. You know that, right?”

He sniffles, nodding.

“…Do you want a hug?”

Logan hesitates for a long moment, as if weighing the pros and cons. Potential comfort and warmth, but also a huge dent in his reputation.

This was a pretty big dent too. Fuck it.

“…Please.”

Janus wraps his arms around Logan, hugging him tightly. “You’re alright. It’s alright..” He murmurs. “You’re okay.”

While Logan quietly cried into Janus’ shoulder, the scaly of the two silently wills the objects back into their places. He doesn’t need Logan even more stressed.

“Do you feel better?”

Logan nods, swallowing thickly. His throat feels scratchy…

“…I don’t think I’ve ever felt those… those feelings so… intensely.” He cringes at the word; it feels sticky and wrong on his tongue.

“I know… but it’s all over now. You’re calmer. Your room isn’t a tornado.”

Logan blinks, glancing up. “Oh. I was…” He looks around quickly. “Everything is in its place…?”

“I put it back. I know mess overwhelms you.”

Logan can’t help the microscopic smile.

“Thank you, Janus… I… apologize for all this.”

“Don’t mention it. It was out of your control. Now,” He pulls away slightly. “Do you need me to stay? I’m more than happy to.”

Logan thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head. “No. I believe some time alone would benefit me. I need to ‘recharge,’ if you will.”

Janus stands and makes his way to the door. “Alright. If you need anything else, you know where my room is.”

“I do. Again, thank you.”

“No worries, Logan. That’s what friends are for.”

—

(i wrote these authors notes as i wrote the story; i didn’t wanna stick them in as i wrote so i put them all at the end.)

authors note: i forgot how vividly i imagined their headspace; even down to the order of the doors. in case you’re wondering, the hallway of their rooms (which you enter from the right side) goes from left to right as such: virgil, logan, roman, and patton. the dark sides have their own separate wing (because of course they do)

authors note 2: i feel like sides have a lot more willpower and control in the headspace than we originally think— and the dark sides seem to be more powerful than the core 4 so they have an easier time doing stuff like that. obviously since deceit can transform into any of the sides— which i feel like the other sides can do but choose not to?? if they can become thomas’ friends they should be able to transform into each other,,— and remus can summon objects outside of the mind palace and headspace— we’ve seen other sides with fidgets or swords or little caps but never anything like super big i don’t think? it’s been a while hah

authors note 3: i’m trying to make up some shit about the orange side while also keeping it vague so it’s not too specific. mostly cause i want this to be logan centric but also i want this to have the best chance at holding up after he is revealed

authors note 4: logan may be the logic side but he is also the autism side

authors note 5: this just became a loceit fic but i’m not even mad. logan x anyone supremacy

authors note 6: this just became a self projection fic but i’m not even mad. logan x self projection supremacy

authors note 7: i didn’t know how to end this so have some weird janus and logan

okay hi!! finally done writing. got this done in like… two hours shockingly. i speed ran this fr

no beta read we die like men.

reblog if you enjoyed!!

[razielwriter]

Theory for "Working through intrusive thoughts" Sander Aside *Spoilers ahead*

Okay, I'm just going to say it. I think Orange isn't a new side. I think he's a new side of a side.

So there's been this theory I've seen going round about the "Orange side". The last Dark Side. He's been hinted at through things like the orange score that appears in "Putting others first" and that he may have been influencing Logan in "Learning New Things" to be more aggressive and throw his vocab card at Roman, and of course the Orange eyes that Logan gets when angry in "Working through intrusive thoughts" (And lets be honest the colour pallet of the characters could be gayer and make a full rainbow if they had orange.)

However I don't think Orange is "Influencing" Logan. I think he is another side of Logan. Another half. The same way Imagination was split into two halves within Thomas, making Roman and Remus, so is Logical and Illogical thought. The Ego (rational) and the Id (Primal) parts of the Brain.

*Spoilers again, but this time for the Murder of Roger Achroyd by Agatha Christy.*

We all know that "The murder of Roger Ackroyd" is Logan's favourite story, which he is seen reading in "Working through Intrusive thoughts" while Thomas is clearing up. But the big twist of that book, which maybe an interesting parallel to Logan, is the end. The murderer was... the narrator. Dr Sheppard, Poirot's assistant for this book, and narrator of the entire story.

So how does that apply to Logan? Remember in "Losing my Motivation" where Logan paints himself as the detective, but then turns out to be the cause of Thomas' problems? That is what is happening here.

If Logan has two sides within him, one logical and one illogical, he is both the problem and the solution. "The snake devouring its own tail in order to satiate its hunger". He is both the reason for Thomas' constant struggles, and his solution. This is different from his struggles with Patton (think "The Mind vs The Heart"), as that lies in intellectual vs moral. No, this is a fight between intellectual and mindless behaviour. Acting with and without thought. Control vs untamed. Prometheus and Epimetheus.

Also quick Aside (haha) but going back to the "Putting others first" episode, who's the only characters that we see entirely in digital form through that whole episode, and gets rather angry because of the constant interruptions and disregard for his words? Logan. When does the orange "Hello" turn up? During the "fighting game" part of the video, with character Thomas punching bad guys like a mindless brute. And the part in "Learning new Things" where he threw the card at puppet Roman and hit him in the eye, mirrored in "Working through intrusive thoughts" with Remus getting hit in the eye by the soapy knife and having to wear an eyepatch? V Interesting (okay, Aside over)

Logan is not Apollo here. He is Artemis. Blue, distant, only able to shine brightest with others light. Apollo is what is inside of him, and something he must come to terms with. He is Dr Jekyll and whoever Orange turns out to be will be Mr Hyde. Logan is Dr Frankenstein, and the "Scary monster dude. You know, the real Frankenstein" is Orange.

Logan is imperfect as logic, because all logic, however well researched and considered, is imperfect. He is an unreliable narrator. An unreliable, sometimes toxic logic. And both he, and Thomas, will have to come to terms with the fact that he must be listened to, but not all the time because of this. You can't logic your way out of that.

(this is only my indicial theory, and I am v tired (its nearly 3am here) but boy oh boy that was a good episode and I have so much material to work with)

[bilgisticallykosher]

Not going to tag every side, even if they were technically all mentioned but. I'm. Very screaming still.

Pre-episode. Squealing, so much squealing. Remus. I'm just. Remus, but intense. Remus 💚 Anyway, I see Thomas looking horrified- OH ARE WE GETTING TO THE DREAM THING? Are we dealing with The Thing from DWIT??? Aaaaa. Also, Logan? I thought it was supposed to be Virgil. Hm.

Okay, let's- hnnnnnng content warning I happy flapped. Frick I keep squealing, the green smoke and the bear trap in the A of asides. Omg omg omg.  FORBIDDEN FRUIT! Is it two am or pm? Gasp! NICO! No Nico, don't jk the date, please. I'm begging you, I can't. (Edit: legendsgates told the server that it was Thomas who texted Nico, not vice versa.) Oh no, he slept through the text notif? Oh no. Logan! Oh, it's two pm. I mean, I figured because of sunlight, but. FFFF 69TH! *snicker* Thomas smirked, too.  

Ooh, daily schedule. Degree a couple degrees! Five am Thomas is a bastard. Logan is… very whelmed by all the Thomases. Oh boy, this schedule is… not going well. Snort. Don't mention it. You don't have the time. Did he schedule time for scheduling? That's a lot of alarms. 

ARM!!!! Oh is that a bear trap? Oh. Yup. Whoops, that's- oh. Nope. He's fine. Old?? Aging? NICO IN REAL LIFE OMFG AAAAH! HE HAS A FACE!!! Oh. Aging. Hm. Okay, so he bear trap was less physical, more like Remus is trapping Thomas's thoughts. Neat! Also I have to take a break right, now I cannot handle the dramatic music and his face omfg. Aaaaaaaah. Okay I'm good maybe. Oh! That's the face from the thumbnail, nice. Green light in his hair looks nice. 

Aw, Logan is concerned about him. He's a good boy. And yikes that's a lot of um. Filth. Is that a nail? "Muck" is- Remus, points for effort, but no, dear. I mean, only if you say it outloud, backwards. K-Cum. Okay, you know what? I'll allow it. 

Remus. Rearranging his sentence is less intimidating than you think. I think he's putting back(?) Caressing? A book of Broadway… something. "You couldn't turn anything on, if you tried." WOW, WAY TO BE WRONG, LOGAN. I mean. You know. Uh. I'm just holding this attraction for a friend, it's not mine-

Thomas looks resigned. Hmm. Shiny green notebook, nice. Does that say "call updog?" Mmm. Yep. Yep it did. Lot of Updog on there, on the other hand, Remus's handwriting is gorgeous, wow. Dinner with Updog (can't cancel that again) I may have injured myself laughing at some point. 

This. This is that point. Oh my gosh. Who. So freaking close. The freaking tension! Did they censor damn? Yeah, sounds it. FFFFF LOGAN. Janus and Logan wine moms confirmed. Oh my gosh. He just freaking rips the cork out with his teeth. Chug. There's, like so much tension in this episode. Predicting that the screw is him "screwing" with his mind? Yep, nothing. Hmm. What if I choke. Is that Remus's influence? Or Virgil's? "I'd be screwed" Ha! Oh, wow, Logan! Look how much you're putting Thomas's mental health first! Wonder what was on Remus's second list…

Okay what's going on with the roomba. Ayyyy, Intrusive Thoughts! He's so good in this, Logan. WHAT KIND OF RUBE GOLDBERG GARBAGE- oh, garbage disposal, wow this was well set-up oh my gosh, the drawing attention to the garbage disposal, the book he placed there. Never stack your knives on top of anything, guys! 

The little 'yes!' Oh. Oh. Um. Okay. Wow. "I don't care about the knife, but the soap!" You guys, no, this can't be canon help. Oh he's cleaning! Ohhhhh, eyepatch. Love it. This feels very reminiscent of Dealing With Anxiety way back when. But with more Remus! Oh no he got his string caught in his weiner.

Bratwurst, whatever. I bet that was not originally in the script. I.e., accident. Hey, Kingdom Hearts! I know he is. Thomas, Logan, or Virgil? The chords before "He said you're wanting to be more honest"!!!!! 

Cue freakout. Yeah, it's Virgil. Man if Remus keeps setting these things up, he's like a genius, the physics involved, geez. Oh. Well, listen, not all experiments work the first time. Oh nope. There it- nope. Hmm. Pink panther-esque? Um, sir that's glowing. Sir, that's a keyblade. Oh, Nico again. Coffee, he says, after guzzling wine. Puzzle? Cognitive distortions!!! "It was a stab" Virgil!!! Logan's such a good boy, oh my gosh, I can't. Yeah. Sounds pink panther. I beg your pardon??? Whomst? Love the 'ooh~' in there. Haha, just stops at Logan. Oh, he's trying to get to Logan- ffffff, Remus, oh my gosh. Okay, why are there text alerts but no new texts? Remus, did you wear his shirt while getting stabbed? Rude. Ha! Got an ad for Anxiety/stress, that's funny. Aw, ketchup. Logan how can you be so wrong? Ha! Solenium lycopersicum again. "Yes. You. Am." Help I love him so much. Nico napkin? It's not me, right? He's not contacting him? (Edit: It was me. 😔) Okay, so the thoughts are being very tied up into anxiety, with like being alone, but he's also obviously scared to take a step towards relationship? Maybe??? Man, Remus is so good at these things. Okay, also stress about someone being in his house? Just high stress in general, I gu- !!!!!!!!! Oh hi. 

No, Remus, your puppet is being mean- oh, no, that's the, he's just stabby. Mutual stabby? You have no idea how hard I'm looking at his eyeshadow right now.!!!! MUSIC??? Song? Oh, okay, cool. Ahhh, what your momma gave ya. Remus, omfg he's so pouty at lack of stabbing. It's not lost on me that the lighting is purple. WOW, Logan. Willing to see his merit. Squeak squeak flick. He's not pretending he doesn't- yeah. Oh tongue lollipop. What was in his ear??? That he ate???

Manicure on severed hand. Ignoring dummies for dummies. Aw, does Nico have a carrot next to his name? WOAH WHAT!!!! Holy crap, fandom was right-

WAIT ARE HIS EYES ORANGE NO WAIT NO. 

THEY ARE! 

No, I wasn't ready for this theory to be right! Idk if…… rage/anger/wrath is orange through Logan or if that's a Logan thing or if he's turning into orange, gosh, I,,, really hope not. Nico calling! Ohhhhh, Remus likes that. 

Ahhh, Nico. Aww they're cute. Wait, is Logan supposed to be angry at Thomas? Oh. I really liked Procrastination as orange, and. Hmmmmmm. Oh man. We got some. Good, yet heartbreaking Logan there. 

Oh my gosh. I'm like. Almost shaking. Oh my gosh. I like. Don't know what to think. Love that totally real phone convo, though with Hello Fresh. Aaaa, what even do I think?! I'm so concerned! On multiple levels! But aw, Nico. I'm reeling. That angry Logan changed everything. Squints that seems lot a lot of paprika. Nico date! Patton!!! Roman!!! Virgil!!! Aw, Logan. Rome didn't fall in a day. "He's giving him permission," WAIT HE'S ANGRY ABOUT THAT TOO??? Okay, Logan's calming down, being okay. OH NO OH NO OH NO THAT WAS HELLA COOL WITH JANUS BUT THE EYES!!!! Crap, orange is anger. Damnit. Chills.

ALSO I had a belated realization at about Janus being in the tree and freaked out about it all day so expect something on that soon.

[beauty-and-passion]

I know you’re probably still riding that high yourself, but I also wanted to slide in here and say I was incredibly incredibly excited when I saw so many of theories come to light. Well done friendo 👏👏👏

Thank you! I am still quite happy - and surprised! - to see I got something right. The most surprising things were, without a doubt, Remus putting on a pirate-y eyepatch (because PIRATES) and Janus being on a fucking tree like I always wanted, since I learned about the mangrove snake.

And also the association between Orange and fire: like, in my personal headcanon Orange has some sort of pyrokinesis ability related to how much he "shows" his power (the more he shows it, the more his eyes/hair turn into blazing fire), so seeing those eyes while listening to the sound of crackling fire was truly something.

Now if it ends up he's also a pirate, I would probably die on the spot XD

[ethospathoslogan]

there will come a poet: chapter nine (a vampire sanders sides fanfiction)

A/N: can i just say, the reactions to virgil's flashback were some of my favorite things ever, and it's even more fun when u take into account that virgil's flashback is the tamest one i have planned :3 and also, as always, thank you to @bumblebeekitten for beta reading this for me!!! <3

summary: It was on Patton’s tenth evening in the castle—an evening where he could just see the pink-orange sunset through the drooping canopy of the trees—that Roman and Remus, after only fifteen minutes of being out hunting, threw open the large castle doors and came sprinting in.

ships: eventual moxiety and logince

WC: 4,690

TWs: shitty parents, crying, panicking, angst with a side of angst (part 2)

read on ao3

masterlist

spotify playlist (added new songs!!)

taglist: @iwillsithereandtrytocontribute , @glitchybina , @ab-artist , @daring-elm , @crazydemigod666

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It was on Patton’s tenth evening in the castle—an evening where he could just see the pink-orange sunset through the drooping canopy of the trees—that Roman and Remus, after only fifteen minutes of being out hunting, threw open the large castle doors and came sprinting in.

Patton and Logan, who had been coming down the main staircase, startled as Janus, who had been making his way into the parlor from the hallway, raised an eyebrow. “What? Are ferocious beasts tailing you?”

The cacophonous stream of jumbled words that came out of the twins’ mouths were near indecipherable, though the tension in the room thickened as, without a doubt, it was obvious that the twins were panicking.

Janus threw a gloved hand up. “Slow down!” he exclaimed, bounding towards his brothers. “Start over! What’s going on?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Patton caught a flicker in the candlelight and, looking over his shoulder, saw Virgil watching the scene, just as confused and on-edge as the rest of them.

“People!” Remus shouted, pointing towards the forest. “Coming this way!”

“Knights!” Roman added, his panicked brown eyes darting back and forth between Janus and Remus. “Hartt Knights!”

Patton’s stomach dropped so quickly, he thought he would vomit.

He imagined that the brothers felt worse.

Janus faltered, taking a step back, and, for the first time since Patton has been in the castle, he thought Janus actually looked scared. “Did they see you two? Were you attacked?”

The twins shook their heads. “We got away before they could see us,” Remus said.

“But we heard them coming,” Roman rushed out.

Behind him, Patton heard footsteps clumsily dart away and, when he turned, Virgil was gone.

When he looked back, Janus was nervously pulling at his gloves. “Well- well, they can’t get in-”

“Janus, what do we do?” Roman asked quickly.

“They have to know we have them!” Remus added, his green eyes shooting to Patton and Logan.

“And who knows what they have after a hundred years!”

“Or what they could do to us if they know!”

“Calm down!” Janus exclaimed. “It’s- it’s going to be fine!”

Patton could barely make out Roman’s “How do you know?!” and Remus’s “How can you be so sure?!” over each other.

“Because I do!” Janus threw his hands up. “This is just like before, okay? They couldn’t get through the wall then, and they won’t now!” He then released a deep breath, tugging on his gloves again. “It’s going to be… fine.”

“So then what do we do?” Roman asked quietly, tugging on his sash.

A moment of silence passed, with all eyes on Janus.

“We’re staying in here,” Janus ordered, firm, as he looked around at those who remained in the parlor. “We don’t know what they know and-” His eyes caught Patton’s “-And we have to trust that no one actually knows they’re here!”

“What are you saying?” Remus, raising an eyebrow, pulled at his sleeves.

“We hide.” Janus swallowed thickly. “And wait. They can’t get in. We just have to wait them out.”

Patton and Logan shared a look.

“Do you think they would know?” Logan asked quietly. 

“I don’t know,” Patton whispered.

“I think it would be best if we retire to our quarters.”

“I…” Patton trailed off as he looked back down at the three brothers, Janus quietly talking to the panicked twins. “I’ll be there soon.”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows. “Patton-”

“I just-” He bit his bottom lip “-I have to talk to Janus.”

Logan slowly nodded, though his apprehensive look lingered.

Patton forced a smile, though Logan probably saw right through it. “It’s okay. I just… need to talk to him.”

“Okay,” Logan said quietly as he nodded again. “Okay.”

As Logan finally headed back up the stairs, Patton allowed his feet to carry him down, catching the last bit of what Janus was saying to the twins as he locked up the main doors:

“-check on Virgil. But stay quiet, and hidden! Keep your rooms dark and- and not a lot of moving and- just... be smart, okay?”

“We’ll be safe, Jan,” Remus said softly before he and Roman rushed past Patton up the stairs, flicking off all oil lamps as they passed.

And then, Janus’s eye caught Patton’s.

“And you knew nothing of this, yes?” Janus asked, raising an eyebrow.

Patton raised his hand. “Swear on my life,” he whispered.

Janus nodded, wringing his hands. “Okay… okay.”

“But-” And Patton cut himself off, sighing shakily “-I really, really need you to believe me when I say that, because… because…”

“Because what?” Janus snapped, and Patton hoped it was just the stress that made his words so biting. “Spit it out!”

Patton looked down. “Is there a way I could… get to the wall without drawing too much attention?”

At Janus’s silence, Patton slowly looked back up at him.

And winced at the cold, hard look in Janus’s eye. He wondered if Janus held the same cold look in his other eye, behind the eyepatch.

“What are you planning?” Janus asked slowly.

“Nothing! I promise!” Patton pleaded as he took a step closer. “I just… those knights that are marching here were sent by my father. I… I need to hear what they have to say. If I can just get close enough...”

Janus studied him closely, his eye narrowing.

“Janus, I swear to you,” Patton whispered. “I have sworn before, and I will keep swearing. I will never bring any harm to your family. I just want to know.”

Janus was silent for another moment before sighing and nodding. “Fine,” he said. “There is… another way in and out of the castle. A secret entrance that will bring you out closer to the wall without any loud doors, and less of a chance of someone hearing you coming.”

Patton nodded.

Janus then took a step forward, jutting a finger at Patton’s chest. “This is the one and only time you will ever see this entrance, clear?”

He nodded again. “Crystal.”

Then, with little hesitation, Janus began his way briskly back down the hallway, and Patton quickly followed behind.

Though, as he realized Janus was approaching the throne room, his steps slowed. 

He remembered Virgil telling him how none of the brothers went into the throne room anymore.

He worried his bottom lip as Janus, from underneath his collar, pulled out a gold chain necklace with two small keys hanging off of it, one silver, one gold.

And, for just a moment, Janus’s hand froze as he went to unlock it. Patton stepped up alongside him, and saw that his eye was squeezed shut.

“Janus, if-” Patton was then cut off by Janus unlocking the door with the silver key and sharply turning the knob.

Patton couldn’t help but cough as a dust plume burst through the open doorway, and he held a hand to his mouth and nose as Janus strided in.

Waving his hand to clear the dust and hesitantly following Janus in, he realized that the best way to describe the throne room was still. Too still. So still, and so quiet, that it made his skin crawl. The room was dark, the velvet curtains collecting dust as they blocked out the windows. A long rug tread across the middle of the floor, and his and Janus’s careful footsteps left indents as they walked.

On either side of the rug, two rows of busts watched them. Past kings and queens, all immortalized in stone cold marble, watched their descendant and their new guest as they neared the front of the room. 

Patton couldn’t help but notice the empty marble plinth at the end of the row. Its plaque was scratched out, as if someone took a chisel to whatever name was once engraved. Livius Anguine was the king to precede it and, thinking back to the family portrait hanging in the dining room, he looked to Janus and wondered if it was out of grief or anger that he carved his own name out. Maybe it was both.

And then, at the end of the room, sat a throne. Or, at least, Patton assumed it was a throne under the white tarp that had been thrown over it.

Patton couldn’t help but look around at the room—the room that felt haunted with ghosts of past lives and remnants of what could have been—yet Janus passed through it coolly. He led Patton to the end of the rug, where its tassels met the step that ascended to the throne, and shooed him off. Then, stepping off himself, he lifted up the rug, revealing a wooden trap door in the midst of the tile.

“A secret passageway,” Janus murmured. “A safe exit for the royal family.”

“Oh.” Patton didn’t know what else to say.

Janus didn’t say anything and, instead, with the gold key, unlocked the trapdoor. 

“I will be waiting here for you,” Janus said. “Don’t even try anything.”

“I won’t,” Patton assured. “I just… I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

“Just don’t draw attention to yourself and we’ll be fine.”

Whatever momentary calmness Patton fell into vanished as Janus swung open the trapdoor and both of them were met with a steep staircase leading down into a dark hallway.

He never really considered himself scared of the dark, but he figured that there was a first time for anything.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive the darkness,” Janus said, eyeing him, “Seeing as we’ve had no reason to use this passageway for a century now.”

Patton nodded and swallowed his nerves. “It’s fine.”

He forced a smile, which Janus didn’t seem to believe.

Though, Janus still sighed and said, “You’ll be fine. Nothing’s down there. Just keep walking forward and eventually you’ll get to another staircase.” He then held out the gold key. “You’ll need this. Bring it back to me.”

“Okay,” Patton said quietly. “Thank you.”

Janus nodded and stepped back, gesturing to the descending staircase.

Patton, taking one final look down, took a deep breath and pressed forward.

The passageway, drowning Patton in the scent of damp earth, seemed to get darker as Patton’s feet carried him. Instinctively, he walked with his hands out in front of him, his right fist clutching the gold key. He kept his eyes trained ahead as he slowly walked, his ears attuned to the sound of each footstep, or an occasional drip of water.

And, when his foot finally hit a step immersed in darkness, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t let out a little yelp before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Ascending the stairs, slowly and carefully, he eventually reached another trap door and, fumbling for both the key and the lock, he let out a deep breath when he finally managed to unlock the passage.

It took three tries for Patton to push the trapdoor up and open, the door having been sewn shut years ago by the brush and bramble of the abandoned kingdom. 

And, when he did finally step out, everything was quiet. Quiet and still. Looking around, he was notably behind the castle, in an area with nothing but collapsing stone fences. Where the fence met the Vine Wall, the stone was nothing more than debris, with then various states of wear and tear around the rest of the area.

Listening closely, he heard nothing, no birds, no rustling of leaves, no footsteps.

Still, though, he quietly stepped over the debris as he neared the Vine Wall, and began to walk the perimeter.

It was when he reached the area that he himself came through over a week ago that he began to hear the steady thump of marching feet on the other side and, his heart cinching, he froze in his tracks.

“Perimeter in sight, Captain!” A soldier called out.

“Noted!” The Captain’s voice called back. “Prepare for an approach! Have your weapons drawn!”

Patton, with his knees shaking, nearly collapsed to the ground, and was thankful for the overgrown grass that muffled it. His stomach knotted and his throat tightened as footsteps marched their way around the perimeter, obviously fanning out to prepare for any type of assault or scouting on all ends. 

He believed Janus when he said that no soldier would be able to get through the wall, but Patton also knew that he himself was able to enter, which seemed to be a feat which no one understood.

So, he just hoped that whatever magic was at work within the castle was in his favor.

“Soldiers, report!” The Captain bellowed out. “Any signs of life, or way of entry?”

“Nothing here, Sir!” A soldier called out, far to Patton’s left.

Another voice came from the right, “Nothing here as well!”

When the Captain spoke again, their voice was turned away, as if they were speaking to someone behind them. Which, considering that situation paired with their words, Patton—over the sudden plummeting of his stomach and ringing in his ears—prayed that he misheard.

“Our soldiers have found nothing, Your Majesty.”

Because it couldn’t be. The King of the Hartt Kingdom, a man who detested the Twisted Wood and all creatures that resided in it (undead and not), would not have actually stepped foot within the forest, let alone bring himself to the Vine Wall. Not after he so clearly chastised Logan for thinking that Patton would wind up in the forest, nor with his adamant warning that Logan himself should not walk into the forest. Not at all, it couldn’t be, because-

“Nothing, you say?” Patton bit his lip harshly as his father’s voice boomed out. “Is that correct, Captain?”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Well-” And King Titus’s voice grew louder as he approached “-Are you then telling me that this trip has been pointless? Just like I told you it would be?”

“Well, we- I-”

“Have you tried slicing through the vines?”

A pause. Patton thought it would last forever. “Slicing through, Your Majesty?”

“Did I misspeak?”

“No! No, Your Majesty. It is just that… the legends say that-”

“I know what the legends say!” The King snapped. “I also know that you are disobeying my orders by questioning me!”

The Captain was silent, but the sound of something swiping through the air followed by a dull thud gave Patton the implication that their sword did nothing to the vines.

He breathed a silent thank you.

“My… my sword did nothing, Your Majesty.”

The King hummed. “So I see.”

“Is- Is there anything else you require of us?”

“Oh, require? What I require is to know why you coerced me into going on this pointless task?” At the silence that followed, the King snapped, “That is not a rhetorical question!”

“Oh, yes, apologies, Your Majesty. It is just… Prince Patton has been missing for ten days now,” the Captain explained (and Patton balled the grass in his fists in hopes of feeling stabilized). “Our soldiers in the surrounding villages have seen no sight of him. I believed that it would be… helpful to search out the Wood. If we cannot locate him here… I think it might be time to alert neighboring kingdoms that the Prince is-”

Patton winced as his father’s booming voice interrupted them. “The one thing we are not doing is alerting neighboring kingdoms! They will see this disappearance as a weakness, and then what would become of my kingdom? Am I to allow my kingdom to be seen as weak, as conquerable, just because my son wants to- what? Roam the countryside instead of learning how to be a true king?”

“Your Majesty, all of our troops have reported no sign of him in any of our villages.”

“Then order them to search again! To imply that my son would walk into these Woods- has anyone no respect for history? Has my son?”

“Your Majesty-”

“If my son truly wishes to show that he is not the fool that he has proven to be in the past, then he will get over this act of rebellion and return to the castle! I truly hope that I have raised a son who is smart enough to know that the Twisted Wood and all the things inside of it are to be avoided! He has always let these- these reckless emotions cloud his responsibilities, and now he is only harming himself as he shirks his duties! And to think that Logan has fallen manipulated to these impulses...”

“Should we not be concerned that Prince Patton was perhaps taken? Sieged? That a similar target was placed on Mage Apprentice Logan?”

“Our security at the castle would not simply let some criminal snatch my son from his quarters! No, no, this was my son’s doing. He has only led us on a wild goose chase.” 

“But, Your Majesty, what if the Prince and his Advisor are in these woods? In there?”

All was quiet, for just a moment.

And then the moment passed, and the King answered.

“Then I reckon they should stay in there. If they so willingly choose to walk into the realm of the monsters, after all the history and legends they know? They would not want to face me afterwards.”

Patton hadn’t realized he was crying until the tears were dripping down onto his hands. He had been too distracted by the sour taste in his mouth, the churning in his stomach.

Too distracted, too terrified, by his father’s words to pay mind to himself.

A reckless rebel, a manipulative fool.

His father was so close to finding him, so close to unleashing the wrath that he threatened… and yet he had no wish to. The Knight-Captain had to convince him to venture into the forest, the knights in their villages were the ones helming the search. 

To his father, alerting the neighboring kingdoms would be a sign of weakness instead of a cry for help…

To his father, this was all a tantrum. A bratty prince acting out. An irresponsible son ignoring his responsibilities.

(Responsibilities that clung to Patton’s neck so tightly, something he forgot how to breathe.)

Patton had no wish to return home but, in all his twenty years of life, he had never felt so unwelcome.

He had never felt so homeless.

With one shaking hand clenched tightly to his mouth, he placed the other on the tangled vines, and failed to sync his ragged breathing to the steady tempo of the knights marching away.

To be what his father wanted, to be a “true king,” he would have to leave. He could leave. He could ask Virgil, who has given him a way out before, or he could ask any of the brothers. Some of them probably wouldn’t even hesitate to see Patton leave. He could ask Logan to leave with him, and Logan would. And they could go back to the kingdom, tails between their legs, and all they could hope for was that they would be forgiven soon enough.

Patton, however, didn’t want to leave.

He might have no home, but he suddenly felt much more welcome in the Anguine Castle than he ever did in the Hartt Kingdom.

That thought—that sudden detachment from all that he has known—sent another chorus of sobs that racked through his chest, loud and painful and no longer worried about being overheard.

A heavy weight, one that he had hoped to leave behind, began to crawl back into its rightful place on his shoulders.

And perhaps it was that knowledge, the knowledge that he could never truly run away, that hurt the most.

When he finally calmed down, or at least managed to stop the tears from streaking down his face, he released a shaky, uneven breath. 

Pressed his fingers to his temples. 

Fished the golden key out from where he dropped it in the grass.

And, with the scraps of energy he had left, stood.

Patton barely registered his walk back to the throne room, didn’t even feel a spike in his heart beat as he strode through darkness. His feet simply carried him whilst his brain toiled in fog and tried to piece apart fact from fiction.

Maybe his father was wrong. Maybe Patton wasn’t irresponsible, wasn’t running away.

Or maybe he was the one who was wrong. Maybe he should’ve turned to face his problems, or should’ve sucked it up and pressed forward.

All he knew was that he couldn’t leave his problems behind, not truly. They would only come back to haunt him, and their cold hands would only entrap others in a web that held Patton tightly at its center.

Patton released another breath.

When he finally pushed open the throne room’s trap door, he was met with Janus sitting on the step before the late king’s throne, readjusting his gloves.

Janus didn’t even look up as he said, “So, should we be preparing for your departure? Have you decided to let your knights escort you home?”

Patton simply just walked over to Janus and held the key out to him. “No. I’m staying.”

Janus startled and looked up at him, his eyebrows furrowing. 

Slowly, he accepted the key and stumbled out, “Not- not that I wanted you to… leave… not exactly, I- I just thought- if they were looking for you-”

Patton wasn’t used to seeing Janus so lost for words, and if he was in brighter spirits, maybe he would have smiled.

This was not one of those times.

“It’s okay,” Patton said. “I’m not offended.”

Janus stared up at him for a moment longer.

Patton continued, “I’m going to return to my quarters.”

Janus, still watching him, nodded.

It was when Patton’s hand was on the door knob that Janus said, “Are you… alright?”

Patton didn’t turn back. “I’m fine.”

And he walked out.

The castle was cold and quiet as he traversed the stairs, and his body only ached more as he thought about the warmth his bed would bring, and how he hoped it would be enough to take the chill from his chest.

Yet, as he passed through the brothers’ corridor, he stopped at the sight of a figure down the hall, in front of Virgil’s door at the end. Even in the shadows, he could see the glint of red hair reflected in the candles that were still dimly lit. He had a fist pressed to Virgil’s door, not knocking but just resting, and mumbling something Patton couldn’t quite catch.

Taking a step forward, Patton winced when the floorboards creaked.

The brother jumped and spun around, and-

Where Patton expected Roman, he found Remus.

Remus stared at him for only a second longer with his mouth agape, as if he was weighing two options in his head, before his shoulders slumped and he turned back to Virgil’s door, his quiet murmurings resuming.

Patton, after a hesitation, began to walk towards Virgil’s door and, as he got closer, he could pick up on what Remus was saying:

“-you’re in there, Vi. Just- we’re fine, okay? You’re scared- I know you’re in there. You don’t have to- I’m here, and- I know things are bad but if you just let me- why are you being so- please, just let me-”

“Is Virgil okay?” Patton, his voice barely over a whisper, interrupted.

Remus tensed and clenched his fists, his clawed nails dragging down Virgil’s door.

“Okay?” Remus hissed, tilting his head towards Patton. “Oh, sure, he’s fucking great, with your family ready to bust down our doors.”

Patton winced and tried to ignore the stinging behind his eyes.

Whatever panicked version of Remus that Patton saw before was replaced by a ferocity that he has yet to see.

“I didn’t- didn’t know,” Patton fumbled, his voice shaking. “I didn’t want them to-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Remus snapped, whipping his head to face Virgil’s door again. “Virgil’s freaking out, and I can’t even talk to him, so maybe you should just go and-”

And then, both Remus and Patton froze as Virgil’s door cracked open and, through the opening, a single dark eye looked out.

And went straight to Patton.

“Patton,” Virgil whispered, or perhaps it was a gasp.

Remus, with a look on his face that Patton couldn’t quite decipher, took a stumbling step back as he gaped at him.

“V-Virgil?” Patton stammered, taking a small step forward.

Virgil, however, said nothing, and all Patton registered was a cold hand shooting out and grabbing his wrist before dragging him into the room.

The last thing Patton saw before the door slammed shut behind him was Remus staring blankly right back at him.

And then, when he turned to Virgil, for just a moment, he wished he was back in the hall.

In the darkness, Virgil was ghostly. His cheeks were so sunken in, Patton could easily see the definition of his cheekbones. The dark circles under his eyes were so prominent, they looked like they were artificial. His hands, almost skeletal, were shaking as they tightly gripped Patton’s hand, and the cold was that of the dead. His lips were thin, he seemed to drown in his clothes, his shoulders were hunched…

If Patton didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he was in the room with a corpse.

“Virgil,” Patton whispered.

“Told you.” Virgil’s voice was trembling as he forced a pained smile. “Bad things happen when I'm around.”

The rush of understanding brought on a guilt so heavy, Patton almost collapsed under it.

The Hartt Kingdom tried to break through again, and so Virgil was preparing to die.

And so Patton swallowed his feelings.

He had to be there for Virgil, wanted to be there for Virgil.

His own feelings could wait.

“Virgil,” Patton repeated, shaking his head. With his free hand, he placed it over Virgil’s and rubbed them, as if he could put warmth back in. “You’re- you’re safe, okay? Nothing is going to happen-”

Virgil’s face crumpled as he shook his head, though no tears came out. “No- no, you don’t understand! They’re- they’re coming and- and I should’ve known, I should’ve warned us and- and-”

“Virgil!” Patton repeated and, taking his hands away, he took a step closer and gently cupped his cold face. Virgil immediately grabbed for Patton’s hands again, clutching them as Patton held his face.

“Patton,” Virgil whimpered.

“I swear to you,” Patton said gently, “You are safe here. Those soldiers… my family… they’re gone. They left. I promise you, Virgil, you are okay. I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

Virgil ducked his head against his chest. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” Patton tilted his head up. “I would never.”

“I just- I needed- I really wanted you here and- I trust you and I just- I just thought- I’m sorry, I just-”

“Shh,” Patton shushed, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize, okay? I want to help you, Virgil. I want to be here for you.”

Virgil, in a motion so sudden Patton could barely see it, pulled him into a tight hug, his arms wrapped around Patton’s neck like he was his lifeline.

Patton, as if it was instinct, hugged him back.

“I can’t do it,” Virgil whispered. “Not again.”

“It’s not happening again,” Patton said. “It’s going to be okay.”

“This- this hurts even more when you can’t breathe.”

Patton’s heart cinched.

“You’re safe here,” he reassured, rubbing his back. “Nothing is going to happen to you. To any of you.”

Virgil clutched him tighter. “Thank you.”

Patton wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t be thanking him, that Patton was the reason the knights showed up in the first place. That he was a coward and a failure and a fool and no matter how hard he tried, things could never be good.

That Virgil deserved tranquility, and Patton wanted to give it to him but was so, so scared that he couldn’t.

But he didn’t say that.

Instead, he said, “I just want to be here for you.”

“Then just stay,” Virgil whispered. “Please.”

Patton nestled his head in the crook of Virgil’s neck. “I was never planning on leaving.”

[remywrites5]

14 Fluff with wolfstar? 😉 /casualmaraudering

           Remus Lupin was willing to admit that he was a little bit obsessed with Sirius Black. Sirius often came in to the Karaoke bar where Remus worked to sing better than most of the others that came in. He was mesmerizing to watch on stage no matter what he was singing. He tended to go for more of the 70’s punk rock but every once in a while he would switch it up with a little Panic! At the Disco, Hozier, Beyonce, and all sorts.

           The last time he had come in he had done a rendition of “Somebody to Love” by Queen and Remus hadn’t moved for the entire five minutes that Sirius was singing. He had straight up ignored other customers who had been wanting drinks because he couldn’t stop watching Sirius. His coworker Marlene had just shook her head at him and served the people Remus was ignoring, knowing better than to try and pry Remus’ attention away from Sirius.

           Remus’ crush had gotten even worse when he’d discovered Sirius had a youtube channel where he posted covers of songs. Sirius apparently played piano and guitar, switching it up between videos. Remus had drastically increased Sirius’ viewer count since Marlene had been nice enough to drop that tidbit of information to fuel Remus’ pathetic pining.

           It was fairly slow for a Saturday night and it was just after nine o’clock when Sirius came in with his friends Lily, James and Peter. They grabbed one of the tables towards the front and Sirius immediately began filling out a slip of paper with his song choice. After he dropped it off with the emcee, he walked over confidently to the bar and leaned his elbows on it casually. He had on tight black leather trousers and a Sex Pistols t-shirt that had been cut to be a crop top, hitting just above Sirius’ belly button. Remus knew getting through the night with Sirius wearing that was going to take every ounce of his perseverance.

           “What’s up, Marls?” Sirius said, nodding to her.

           “Hi Sirius,” Marlene said, grinning in response. “What are you serenading us with tonight?”

           “Thought I might do a little bit of Elton John,” Sirius said, sliding his fingers through his hair. “I’m feeling extra gay tonight.”

           Marlene laughed. “You’re feeling extra gay every night, Black,” she teased him. Remus stood off the side pretending he wasn’t listening in on their conversation.

           “Pot, kettle, black and all that,” Sirius said with a smirk. “Your better half here tonight or are you sparing Dorcas the pain of listening to yet another night of karaoke?”

           “She has to work early in the morning,” Marlene informed him with a shrug. Remus realized he’d been cleaning the same glass for way too long and quickly switched to a different one. He didn’t want it to be obvious that he was eavesdropping. “When are you going to get a better half?”

           “Excuse you, I’m clearly the better half, Marls,” Sirius joked, glancing over at Remus. “Hi there.”

           “Oh, um, hi,” Remus said, giving a little wave. “Did you want a drink?”

           Sirius flashed him a smile. “Gin and tonic, two lagers and a ginger ale,” he rattled it off from memory. “First round is on me.”

           “Ginger ale?” Marlene echoed.

           Sirius’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yeah, Lily’s pregnant. She’s off the sauce for the next seven months.”

           “Oh my god!” Marlene said, jumping up and down excitedly. “I’m going to go congratulate her! Can you handle the bar for a moment, Remus?”

           “Of course.” Remus gave her a quick nod and Marlene rushed off to go find Lily. Remus got to work making Sirius’ drink order, trying not to be distracted by the man himself. He quickly uncapped the two lagers and placed them on the bar before starting on the gin and tonic. He glanced up and found Sirius watching him intently, his head cocked to the side as if evaluating Remus. Remus couldn’t help the blush he could feel creeping up his neck the longer Sirius stared. He was so distracted that he overfilled the cup with soda water, spilling it all over his hand and the bar. “Shit.”

           Sirius laughed. “Am I making you nervous?”

           “Only always,” Remus said without thinking. He immediately wished he could take it back.

           Sirius blinked a few times and then smiled. He dropped his chin into his hand and looked Remus up and down. “We’ve never really talked before, have we?”

           Remus swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Not really.”

           “Pity.”

           Remus dumped out the gin and tonic and started over with a new glass. His hands were shaking from the knowledge that Sirius was watching him. He was so completely fucked that it wasn’t even funny. “I’m so sorry this is taking so long,” Remus said, wiping his brow and hands with a dishtowel. He was going all clammy from nerves. “I’m not normally this bad at my job.”

           Sirius reached across the bar and put his hand over Remus’ wrist. “Relax, mate.”

           Remus looked at Sirius’ hand and then his eyes flickered up to meet Sirius’ gaze. “If you want me to relax you really shouldn’t be doing stuff like that,” he said, wondering where all the word vomit was coming from. For some reason he just couldn’t stop. It was like his brain had stalled and any filter he had between it and his mouth was completely offline.

           Sirius snorted and took his hand away. “It is unbelievably cute that I can make you this nervous. It’s like finding out you have a super power.”

           “Yeah, except you’re using your powers for evil.”

           Sirius barked out a laugh at that. “I don’t think anyone would consider making adorable bartenders blush evil, mate.”

           Remus made a face at him and managed to finish making Sirius’ drink. It took concentrating on someone singing Maroon 5 badly to accomplish it.  He finished off by making the glass of ginger ale. He let out a shaky breath as he slid them across the bar towards Sirius. “That’ll be sixteen pounds fifty,” Remus told him, feeling slightly less anxiety-ridden now that he’d finished Sirius’ drink order.

           Sirius got out his wallet from his back pocket and gave Remus twenty pounds. “Keep the change.”

           “Do you need help carrying the drinks to your table?” Remus asked.

           “Nah, I got it,” Sirius said, putting the two bottles of beer in the crook of his elbow and gripping the other two glasses between his long, slender fingers with sparkly silver nail polish. “Thanks Remus.”

           “You’re welcome.”

                                                           ***

           Remus was outside smoking on his break, needing to take a breather and get away from the constant singing. The worst part of being a bartender was the later it got the more annoying and more drunk people got. Remus just hoped to get through the night without having to clean up someone’s vomit.

           The back door opened and Sirius stepped out with his hands in the pockets of his ridiculously tight trousers. “Here you are!” he said brightly, walking over to Remus.

           Remus took a long inhale of his fag and tried to think of something to say in response. He was slightly thrown off guard that Sirius had apparently come looking for him. “Hello again,” he finally settled on, blowing the smoke out slowly, careful not to aim it right at Sirius’ face.

           “So what did you think of my performance?”

           “You put Sir Elton to shame,” Remus said with a shy smile.

           “Thanks,” Sirius said, chewing on his bottom lip. Remus watched him as he continued to smoke, thankful that the nicotine was helping to calm his nerves. “You don’t sing?”

           “Oh god no,” Remus scoffed, shaking his head. “I’d rather put this cigarette out in my eyeball.”

           Sirius took a step closer to Remus. “Well we can’t have that. Not that I don’t think you could pull off an eyepatch.”

           Remus chuckled. “Thanks…I think?”

           “Give me your phone.”

            “What for?”

           “I wanna give you my number,” Sirius said, holding out his hand expectantly. Remus grabbed his phone out of his pocket and handed it over without thinking. Sirius pressed the home button and the screen lit up to reveal his own face. He glanced up at Remus, his eyes wide with surprise. “Am I your lock screen?”

           Remus’ face went bright red in embarrassment. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

           Sirius looked back down at the screen. “This is from one of my videos, isn’t it?”

           Remus nodded, taking another drag off his cigarette and letting it out shakily. He couldn’t believe he had done something so completely mortifying. Sirius was certain to think he was some kind of obsessed stalker. He couldn’t even say that Sirius would be wrong for feeling that way. In the video there had been a moment where Sirius had been singing while playing piano, his head bowed so his long hair hung in his face. You could see his reflection in the shiny black top of the piano. It would have been an aesthetically pleasing photo even if the subject didn’t enamor Remus.

           “The one where you did a cover of Le Vie En Rose,” Remus confirmed, dropping the end of his cigarette to prepare to run away if need be. “It’s my favorite.”

           Sirius passed the phone back and Remus felt his heart sank. That was it, he had officially blown it and Sirius didn’t want his number anymore. He took his phone back and tried to ignore that painful twisting in his stomach. “The passcode,” Sirius said with a small smile. “You have to put the passcode in.”

           “Oh,” Remus said, blinking in surprise. “I thought maybe you were having second thoughts.” He quickly typed in his passcode and handed the phone back to Sirius.

           “Well I mean I would expect my boyfriend to be my number one stan, so it seems like you’re already there,” Sirius teased, his thumbs flying over the screen as he added his contact information in.

           “I promise I’m not weird,” Remus said quickly. “I just really liked that picture of you and it’s basically art and no one would think I wanted to fuck the statue of David if that was my lock screen and…” Remus trailed off for a moment, something Sirius had said finally sinking in. “Did you say boyfriend?”

           Sirius laughed and held the phone out for Remus. “Trust me, Marls would have warned me if you were weird, and wouldn’t have encouraged me to come talk to you.”

           Remus rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You’re not just doing this because Marlene talked you into it, are you?”

           “Definitely not,” Sirius said, grabbing the front of Remus’ shirt and tugging him forward slightly. Remus stumbled over his own feet but closed the gap between them. “I’ve been meaning to chat you up for ages, actually. My best mate James and I had an agreement that if he could get his wife pregnant then I would talk to you.”

           Remus huffed in amusement. “You said Lily was already two months pregnant,” he reminded Sirius.

           Sirius’ eyes lit up mischievously. “Oh so you were listening in,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “I thought so. And they only announced the pregnancy two weeks ago. Besides, I didn’t promise I’d be timely about chatting you up.”

           “Will you sing something for me?” Remus asked, reaching out and cupping Sirius’ face in his hand, letting his thumb brush over his high cheekbones.

           “What are you Ursula the sea witch?” Sirius joked, tilting his face and biting Remus’ thumb playfully. “Go on and kiss the – “ Sirius began to sing but was cut off by Remus capturing his lips. As much as he wanted to hear Sirius sing some Disney classics, he was much more interested in kissing him senseless. He splayed his hand over the small of Sirius’ back, touching his warm skin and holding Sirius flush against him as the kiss deepened. Sirius brought his hands up and gripped Remus’ biceps as he sucked Remus’ tongue into his mouth.

           “So…” Remus said, breaking the kiss after a few moments of intense snogging. “You said boyfriend? “

           “Yeah.” Sirius smiled, looking slightly dazed as he held onto Remus. Remus took it as a point of pride. “I believe I did.”

[sanders-sides-theorists]

Orange Side Theory (very long, there's a TLDR)

Many people think that the Orange Side is the complete opposite of Logan, such as ignorance or irrationality. While this is a possibility, I don’t personally think that’s true. I was rewatching DWIT when I noticed another trend for the darksides, other that the -us name endings: The dark sides can all be seen as morally wrong (excluding Virgil).

In Thomas’ belief, lying is morally wrong, which is why Janus is Patton’s opposite, even if he’s not the complete opposite, as immorality would be. The same can go for Remus: he’s not the complete opposite of Roman, like as apathy or pride, but in C!Thomas’ beliefs, Remus is not only creatively wrong, but his contributions are also morally wrong.

This leads me to believe that Logan’s darkside will not only be logically wrong, but also morally wrong. Something that may go along with this is the wrath theories, or possibly even hatred, which is what I believe the dark side represents. My main source for this is the University of Cadiz’s paper “The Psychology of Hatred”, and another theory: the one eye theory. I even have a possible name, but I’ll get to that later.

I’ll start with why I believe the Orange side might be hatred. According to “The Psychology of Hatred” intense hatred can cause “a reversal in the moral code: killing the hated person or group is a right” this not only goes against morals, but logic, following the pattern of the other two dark sides. Another thing they bring up is that “Some people morally disengage from their actions and create excuses for the hatred they feel.” if they morally disengage, that goes against morality, and creating excuses instead of telling the actual reason they feel hatred isn’t logical.

Having hatred towards something or someone is something that Thomas wouldn’t want to believe about himself. So Janus would probably hide that far away from him, and preventing him from knowing about hatred until he believes Thomas is ready to know, or when he needs to know about this side.

Hatred can also cause physical outbursts, which is something we have definitely seen from Logan:

This being said (and shown I guess) Logan definitely has some pent-up anger/hatred. Another thing about this is that Logan’s next line after this was “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was.” Which is close to what Roman said after his line “May visions of sugarplums dance in your head and hopefully not visions of your naked Aunt Patty.” In the 12 Days of Christmas episode, which was a foreshadowing to Remus.

Those pictures can also be a good transition to the one eye theory, which would lead to my theory of what the Orange side might look like. The one eye theory is basically just that the orange side will probably only show one of his eyes, and it came to be because of these bits in Sanders Sides:

And what else do we know that may only have one eye?

PIRATES!!!

Another thing that could support this is when Thomas offhandedly mentions that people might think he’s talking like a pirate even though he’s dressed as a viking in his Raid: Shadow Legends promo at the beginning of “Are There Healthy Distractions?” Though that could be a bit of a stretch.

There is also the Embarrassing Phases poster theory: the 3 pumpkins at the bottom of the poster represent the 3 darksides. Janus, Remus, and then another one (Orange) peeking around the corner. In the poster, you can only see the orange side pumpkin’s right eye, which leads me to believe that the eye patch with be on his left eye.

There’s also the saying that someone can be “blinded by hate”, which is what happens when you blackout because you’re so mad at someone or something, and you act very irrationally and immorally. Someone usually “comes to” after they calm down, and don’t remember whatever they just did, or they just didn’t realize what they were doing while acting out of blind hatred. It also explains the “Blinding Rage” attack in the Putting Others First scene:

Finally, my name theory: Odious. Odious means “arousing or deserving of hatred or repugnance” according to Merriam-Webster. It is can also be found in the Bible, and if something is described as Odious in the bible, it means that it’s hateful. Odious is derived from the Latin noun “Odium” which means “hatred”. Of course, they may spell it differently. It could be “Odius” or “Odeus”.

You could also change a few things to make it fit the Orange is Patton’s brother theory. Janus is Logan’s darkside (lying is logically incorrect, it’s spreading fiction as fact). Also, the paper I used about the psychology of hatred called hatred a (useless emotion). Just thought I’d add this because I really like that theory.

TLDR: I believe that orange side is a pirate with an eyepatch covering his left eye, who represents hatred and is named Odious (or something like that), and could possibly be Patton’s brother. This has been my TedTalk, have a great day!

[aidanchaser]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero @magic713m @ccboomer @aubsenroute and @somebodyswatson special shout out to mcgregor_fi on twitter for help with research for this one

Chapter Three The Uninvited Guest

Harry rolled over and was promptly sick over the edge of his bed. His scar burned, and he was drenched in a cold sweat, as if he had just woken from a fever rather than a nightmare.

He pressed his hands to his head, instinctively hoping that the pressure might relieve some of the throbbing pain. It did not.

Hadn’t Dumbledore told him that Voldemort would not try to enter his mind again? Why was this happening, and why now?

Harry used his wand to Vanish the mess, then stumbled his way down to the kitchen for water. The cool evening breeze helped clear his head.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sick from a nightmare like this — probably not since Ron’s dad had nearly died. At least this time, Harry did not think anyone was in need of rescue, not anymore anyway.

As Harry approached the sink in the dark, he realised that the gentle evening breeze was not coming through the window, but rather the open back door. He tightened his grip on his wand and carefully stepped out into the garden.

The half-moon provided some light, but he didn’t see anything out of place nor any movement in the shadows. He wondered if an open back door was worth waking his parents for, or if he should run and get Robards. He didn’t think so, but in conjunction with his nightmare, perhaps…

Then he saw a stag approaching the house, moonlight glinting off of its antlers, and Harry relaxed.

Prongs approached slowly. Harry did not see his father change form often, unlike Sirius. Something about a full-grown stag galloping around the house did not have the same charm that an Irish Wolfhound did. Sirius had once joked that Prongs didn’t do well on the wood floors, and James had thrown a cushion at him.

Here, on the soft earth of the garden, Prongs seemed perfectly steady. Even though Harry stood at the top of the steps leading down into the garden, the stag still towered over him. He stood nearly eight feet high, not counting the heavy antlers that crowned his head. Harry met his father’s eyes, where the white fur grew in a perfect circular pattern, much like James’ glasses. One eye was missing, but the other looked Harry over as Prongs sniffed Harry’s hand. Then he nosed Harry playfully, and Harry tightened his hand in the thick fur around Prongs’ neck and pulled him close. He was warm and soft, like Padfoot, and he smelled like the earth.

And then Harry was hugging his father.

“Hope I didn’t scare you,” James said.

“You didn’t,” Harry said. “Just surprised you’d take the risk with Robards still here.”

James broke the hug and reached for one of the buckets leaning against the house. “What’s he going to do? Throw me in Azkaban?” He pulled his watch and eyepatch from beneath the bucket and began to fasten each into place. “I’m sure Scrimgeour would love that.”

Harry still wasn’t sure that being so cavalier with an illegal Animagus form while the Head of the Auror Department sat just a few rooms away was a wise idea, but the prickling in his scar didn’t give him a lot of energy to focus on an argument.

“Is everything okay?” Harry asked.

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing up at,” James checked his wristwatch then fastened it on, “four-thirty in the morning?”

“I came down to get water. What are you doing wandering in the garden at four-thirty in the morning?”

“I walked down to the willow tree and sat for a while, then just wandered, taking it all in.”

Harry glanced back at the kitchen. Though he knew their voices probably wouldn’t carry to the sitting room where Robards kept vigil, he was afraid to address their impending departure out loud.

James took a seat on the back steps. “Are you headed back to bed? Long day tomorrow.”

Harry considered lying in his bed, mulling over his nightmare in the dark against sitting up with his father and watching the sun rise.

“I think I’m pretty awake.”

James waved his wand and Summoned a kettle. He Refilled and Heated it, then Summoned two mugs for each of them.

“Sure you’re alright?” James asked as he poured a cup for Harry.

“Yeah.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Your pale face says otherwise. I could smell the sick on your breath, too, as Prongs. So I know you’re not well. If you don’t want to talk about what’s wrong, you can say so, but I really hope we’re all past lying to each other.”

Harry stared down at the mug his father had just handed him. He did not want to tell his parents he was having nightmares again, not when his father was clearly grieving Mellie and especially not when they could not go to Dumbledore for guidance.

“I had a nightmare,” Harry finally admitted. He remembered the pain more than anything else — not his own pain, though. He remembered Voldemort’s pain, and he remembered the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. This was the other reason he did not want to share his nightmare with his parents: he was fairly certain it centered around Horcruxes. What he didn’t know was whether or not Voldemort had successfully turned the sword into another Horcrux. The pain and the anger from the dream seemed to suggest something had gone wrong. Harry remembered what Sirius and Malfoy had each said about goblin silver — it only took in that which made it stronger. Perhaps a piece of Voldemort’s soul just wasn’t compatible with goblin silver, or maybe the basilisk venom imbued in the blade made it a poor host.

But whether it had worked or not, Harry knew for certain that someone was dead from the attempt.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it.” James took off his glasses to clean them on his t-shirt, and Harry wondered if he would always wear glasses, even though he no longer needed both lenses. “I have nightmares every night it seems. Your mum does, too.”

“She told me that once. Didn’t make me feel much better then, either,” Harry said, and James laughed.

“Yeah, alright. Sorry.” James looked down at his hands. His tea sat on the step beside him, untouched. “Does your scar hurt?”

Harry hesitated. “A bit. Dumbledore said it wouldn’t do that anymore…”

“Seems like Dumbledore got a few things wrong.” James sighed. “Has it been happening a lot lately?”

“No, just tonight. I think… I think Voldemort just got really angry. I think something didn’t work out like he thought it should. And I think someone else is dead.”

James twisted the wedding band around his finger. “Anyone we know?”

“I didn’t see who, I just…” Harry squeezed his eyes closed, trying to remember and forget all at once. “I think the snake was eating them.”

“I’m sorry — you shouldn’t be seeing that.”

“I can’t help it —”

“I just mean you deserve better. None of this was ever supposed to happen.” James leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Will you tell your mum and I if your scar hurts? I don’t know if we can really help, but…”

“Sure,” he said.

James ran his hand through his hair. “Are you packed?”

“Everything but my dress robes. Do I really have to wear them tomorrow?”

“Andromeda is insisting.”

“Do you know who’s going to be there?” Harry did not mean which of their friends would attend Remus and Tonks’ small wedding. That part had been decided by the Order.

James glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the sitting room. “You would think it’d be common decency to give us our own bodyguard schedule. I just hope it’s no one in the Order. We don’t need tomorrow to be more complicated.”

Harry didn’t know what the plan to slip the Ministry was exactly. It was hard to talk about in the house, with an Auror always around, and the Ministry seemed to know which Aurors were in the Order, because it was never any of the Potters’ friends on duty. But Harry did know that whoever was on duty when the Potters left was going to have a very difficult time explaining to the Ministry how badly they had messed up.

Harry also knew that this wedding hadn’t been Remus and Tonks’ choice — not entirely.

Remus and Tonks had arrived at the house just two days ago, and Remus had asked James to be a witness when he and Tonks eloped that night. Harry had not heard the entire conversation, because James, Lily, and Sirius had taken Tonks and Remus into the study, faces almost murderous. Harry had pulled Savage into a game of chess, but the focus on the game had been minimal on both sides. The more interesting match had been in the closed off study.

Though the discussion had been muffled behind the door, Harry and Savage heard one clear outburst from Sirius: “And you were planning to, what, just tell Ted and Andromeda after the fact?”

Harry did not envy the position Remus and Tonks had been in, but he also was very much on the side of his parents. If Remus and Tonks had decided to get married, Harry wanted to be there, war or not.

When they had emerged from the study, James had announced that they would be hosting the wedding out in the garden in just two days, Lily had kissed Harry’s cheek and whispered that he needed to be packed to leave before the wedding, and Sirius had disappeared for the rest of the day.

Packing to leave had been a difficult task for Harry. It was hard to know what he would need for the coming year, and he couldn’t really talk his plan out with his parents.

Lily had, over lunch a couple of weeks ago, made a biting remark that Harry was being childish by keeping Dumbledore’s request from them, that he was only doing this because they had kept the prophecy a secret. Harry had snapped back that if she thought he was being childish, it was only because she wasn’t ready to accept he was nearly an adult. James had interrupted and asked Harry to help him in the garden.

“She didn’t mean it,” James had said as he had handed Harry a trowel and hefted a bag of Herbert’s Herb Helper over his shoulder. “She’s hurt — we both are — but she didn’t mean it the way she said it. Sirius just riled her up today. You know how they both get when they’re stressed.”

Harry had understood, but he had still been angry. There was no reason for Lily to take her temper out on him, and there was no reason for Sirius to take his temper out on Lily. Harry had grabbed the dragonhide gloves and followed his father out to the small flower garden that Harry had only recently been allowed to work in.

The area was marked by beautiful iron-wrought gates, twisted into the shapes of vines and flowers. There were still tables and chairs, reminiscent of garden parties that had once been held out here, but Harry knew that this space had sat empty for the last decade, ever since his parents had added wolfsbane alongside the wisteria.

“Your mother and I are worried about you, and we want to help you however we can.” James had punctuated this statement with a loud thud as he dropped the bag of fertiliser onto a table.

Harry had cut the bag open with his wand. “It just feels like you both don’t trust me,” he had snapped.

James, unlike Lily, had not risen to meet Harry’s temper. He had stayed quiet as he had pulled on his gloves and knelt down beside the wolfsbane. He had waited until Harry was working beside him to speak again.

“We know you don’t want to finish at Hogwarts this year — and I think we agree, considering… everything. But we can’t understand why Dumbledore would ask you to keep a secret from us. You aren’t alone — you’ve never been alone. We’re here to help.”

Harry had kept his eyes on the flowers for two reasons. The first was that an accidental brush of his skin against the wolfsbane could leave him very ill for the rest of the day, and the second was that he was afraid of the guilt that would fill him if he looked at his father.

Here, on the back porch with his father in the greying dawn, it was tempting to spill all his fears. It would feel good to talk to someone about his plan — or lack of a plan. He wanted advice on Horcruxes, ideas on where to start looking for them, and suggestions for destroying the diadem.

But Harry bit down on his tongue and said nothing. He couldn’t tell them, and it wasn’t just because of Dumbledore; it was because of the prophecy.

Harry understood now just what that weight of being “The Chosen One” meant. Cedric may have pointed out that the prophecy had never said that the fight against Voldemort had to be a lonely one, but Harry knew, deep in his gut, he could not involve his parents in this fight.

James and Lily — and Remus and Sirius — had helped him, over and over again. They had dueled Voldemort more often than he had, and if the opportunity arose, they would choose to die before they let Harry risk his own life. They had already placed themselves between Harry and Voldemort, years ago, when he was just an infant, and he knew that they would do so again.

As long as they were alive, Harry’s family would put themselves between him and Voldemort. And if the prophecy was true, that only Harry could defeat Voldemort, then the only chance Harry’s family had of surviving this war was if Harry finished it on his own.

He imagined that when he did finally tell them he had to finish this without them, he might get a pretty good idea of how Remus and Tonks had felt announcing plans to elope.

“You know,” James’ low voice pulled Harry back into the present, “Remus, Sirius, Peter and I used to sit out here during the summer. Sometimes we stayed up all night, just sitting and talking.” He sat up straighter and stretched. “Don’t remember it hurting my back nearly so badly, though.”

Harry knew it was difficult for his parents to leave home to go into hiding a second time. It was no wonder James was thinking about Peter.

“What was Peter like?” Harry asked.

James rubbed his jaw and kept his gaze on the graying sky. “Guess your mum and I don’t talk about him much, do we?”

“I could probably count on my fingers how many times you’ve said his name.”

James stared at the dark horizon as if he might see Peter Pettigrew standing there. His hands were steady on his mug, none of the lazy drumming Harry was so used to seeing when his father was pensive. Grief, it seemed, stilled James in a way nothing else did.

Finally, James said, “Peter was quiet, like Remus, but loved a good prank as much as Sirius and I. Never took much to Quidditch, but came to all my matches. Quite a few of the practices, too. Never had the reflexes for the sport, but he was a decent duelist. Brilliant chess player, and a creative strategist. Really knew how to think outside the box. Sometimes I think we pressured him to join the Order… He was always the cautious one, more cautious than Remus most of the time. But he was brave when it counted. You, your mum and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

“Voldemort wouldn’t have been there at all if it weren’t for him, though,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t have this scar or anything.”

“Lily and Sirius blame him, but a lot of things went wrong that day. Voldemort’s at fault, surely. But Sirius made the decision to trust Peter and not Remus. We all made the decision not to tell Dumbledore about the switch. Snape told Voldemort the prophecy in the first place. And Peter told Voldemort where we were hiding, but he also chose to protect us even though he knew that it would kill him. I don’t know if it makes him a hero, but I know that I’m grateful for what he did.”

Harry thought of all the guilt he carried over Dumbledore’s death. If he had not gone to the tower, if he had not been convinced that Malfoy had a Horcrux, if he had listened to Cedric and Neville and Dumbledore…

Blaming Snape had helped, for a while. Blaming Draco had been more difficult, especially knowing that Draco had lowered his wand before the Death Eaters had arrived. But didn’t the fault rest with all of them, in some way?

“What did he say to you?” James asked.

“What?”

“When you saw Peter in the graveyard… do you remember what he said?”

Harry swallowed hard. The graveyard was not a place he willingly remembered much of. “He called me by name. He knew who I was. He told me I was brave, like you and mum… Then he told me to run, so I did. But he wasn’t — he wasn’t real, you know. Dumbledore said he was just an echo.”

“Sometimes I think that just might be enough.”

Harry remembered the photograph that Moody had shown him and Neville of the Order during the first war. He wondered just how many friends his parents would like the chance to see again. He thought that he wouldn’t mind talking to an echo of Dumbledore, either. Maybe he might go back to Hogwarts, just long enough to talk to Dumbledore’s portrait. He still had so many questions…

“You don’t think Dumbledore would become one of the Hogwarts ghosts?” Harry asked.

James shook his head. “I don’t think he would choose that, even with You-Know-Who still out there. To pick an eternal existence over a temporary problem… I think the real problem will be waiting to see if You-Know-Who decides to become a ghost.”

Harry did not think that someone whose soul was as divided as Voldemort’s could sustain any existence after death, but he couldn’t explain that to his father. So instead, he asked, “Why do you always call him You-Know-Who?”

James shrugged. “My mum always did. She said it was polite, and she worked very hard to teach me to be polite.”

“Her lessons didn’t take then?” Harry grinned, and it felt good to watch his dad smile, too.

“They took well enough. I’m not Remus by any stretch, but I can be polite when I want to be. You’ve seen me at the Ministry. Besides, I always thought the nickname was kind of funny. Bloke already renames himself something grand like ‘Voldemort’ only to forbid everyone from using it? Always thought it was a bit silly. Don’t know how his followers ever took him seriously.”

Harry laughed, glad to be a part of this family. He wasn’t sure there was anyone else who could joke about Voldemort the way James did, except perhaps Tonks, but she would be family soon enough.

“Harry, I…” The smile on James’ face was gone suddenly. He let out a deep breath. “What you did for Picksie yesterday was incredibly kind. I wish I had thought of it. It’s the sort of thing my mother might have done. I — I’m sorry you didn’t know her, and I want you to know… whatever happens tomorrow and after… Your mum and I love you, and we’ll do everything we can to protect you and help you through this —”

“Dad…” Harry swallowed down the lump in his throat. He thought it might be made up of all his fear, sorrow, and secrets. “I don’t want to talk about this today. Can we just have a wedding? And not worry about Voldemort until it’s over?”

“Sure thing, Snitch. But we will talk about it, okay?” He checked his wristwatch and got to his feet. “Speaking of wedding, there’s a lot of work to be done. Tonks and Andromeda should be here in a couple of hours. I’ve got to turn the study into a bridal suite before they get here.”

“Why are they coming so early?”

“Andromeda insisted. She seems to think it will take most of the day to get Tonks ready, and I seem to remember your mother doing the same thing.”

And just like that, James switched from quiet mourner to excited wedding planner. He cheerfully enlisted Robards in helping him drape the study in white linens and place tasteful floral arrangements on flat surfaces. Then he dragged Robards up to one of the guest rooms-turned-storage-room to find a full-length mirror. The two of them also had a time of it moving a vanity set from upstairs and into the study.

Harry started on breakfast, though he didn’t get any further than counting how many eggs they would need before Picksie appeared and insisted on taking over. She said she needed to do something with her hands, and Harry couldn’t deny her that. She gave him a list of things to get from the garden, but told him to get upstairs and put on proper clothes first. It wouldn’t do for him to be in pyjamas when company arrived. He wondered if she knew just how much she sounded like her mother.

Lily was not asleep much longer; no one could sleep through the noise that James raised moving furniture — no one except Sirius, who did not make an appearance until after Andromeda and Tonks had arrived via Floo, and he happily greeted company in his pyjamas.

While Picksie made certain that Tonks and Andromeda were who they said, Sirius dipped a spoon in the mix of fruit and rum Picksie had soaking. Before the spoon quite reached his lips, there was a white spark in his hand and he dropped the spoon.

“There is toast and fresh fruit, Sirius,” Picksie said, and gestured at the kitchen table. “Picksie is quite certain that James is saying that drinking is off limits today.”

Sirius only grinned at her and held his hands up innocently. “I haven’t got anything to do until after lunch, so put me to work or I’m only going to make trouble.”

Picksie sniffed, in a strikingly similar way to her mother. “Sirius could start by getting dressed.”

Once Sirius was dressed, there was plenty to keep him busy. James filled Sirius’ arms with linens, insisting that all of the furniture needed to be draped for photographs. Harry offered to help, too, but Lily handed him a lengthy list of flowers from the garden that needed picking for centrepieces.

When Harry returned from the garden Levitating three full boxes of flowers, Picksie was clearing the kitchen table so James could put a white table cloth over it.

“Excellent timing, Harry,” James said. “Your mum’s just set the vases up in the dining room.”

Harry slipped past his father in the kitchen and into the dining room, where Lily was carefully Transfiguring an old, cracked clay flower pot to match four other glass vases on the table. Harry set the boxes down near her feet and waited for her to be done concentrating.

The terracotta changed shape first, reforming with roses and vines in relief, then slowly, the clay began to disappear. It seemed to burn away until there was nothing but a perfectly shaped glass, identical to the others on the table. Lily smiled and put down her wand.

“I’d like to see your father or Sirius do better,” she said proudly. “Now let’s take a look at those flowers.”

Lily sent Harry to see if Tonks wanted a smaller bouquet or a larger, cascading arrangement, and though Harry thought he already knew the answer, he did as his mother asked.

When he knocked on the door to the study, he was surprised to hear Sirius say, “Come in!”

Tonks sat at the vanity while her mother carefully applied makeup to her eyes. Harry didn’t know anything about the stuff, other than his mother occasionally used it, but he’d never seen so many different cases of it in one place before. He had a feeling that these cases did not belong to Tonks.

Sirius was stretched out across a chair that had been draped in white. He grinned at Harry. “Lots of work, isn’t it?”

“Wouldn’t know it by looking at you,” Harry said.

“I told James and Lily —” Tonks started, but her mother shushed her.

“I said hold still,” Andromeda said. “No talking until I’m finished.”

“Mum, I can literally change my face any way I want. I don’t need —”

“Did you want me to poke your eye out? I said hold still. What did you need, Harry?”

“Er — Mum wanted to know how big a bouquet you wanted, Tonks.”

“Oh, I don’t need — Ow! Mum!” Tonks swatted Andromeda’s hand away and looked at Harry. “Tell her it’s alright. I really don’t need one at all —”

“Not even a small one?” Andromeda asked. “You’ll want something for the photographs —”

“No, Mum, I don’t want something for the photographs. I don’t even want photographs, really. With all the trouble that’s already going into this —”

“What about the rings? You’ll want —”

“We don’t even have rings! This wasn’t supposed to —”

Sirius yelped as he leapt off of the chair. “What do you mean you don’t have rings?”

Tonks frowned at him. “There wasn’t exactly a proposal. I sort of asked him how he felt about getting married and he said we should do it. You and James are the ones who decided to make a fuss about it, and dragging Mum in like this. It’s just a bloody piece of paper, and I don’t see how —”

“Have you any idea how furious Regulus would be to hear you say those things?” Sirius put a hand over his heart in mock horror. “He absolutely adores weddings, and I bet he’s right put out that he can’t be here today.”

“Well when Regulus gets married, he can make a grand gala out of it, but it’s my wedding, and I don’t care about rings or a bouquet.”

“Nymphadora!”

“Mum!”

Harry backed up towards the door. “Right then. I’ll tell Mum just a little one and leave you to it then.”

Tonks plopped her elbow onto the vanity and dropped her head into her hand. “Yes, fine. I suppose if I have to walk down an aisle, I might as well hold something. Just promise me there’s no bright red carpet.”

Harry had not seen one yet, but if Lily was Transfiguring vases, there was no telling what else might appear.

A gentle chime floated through the house, and Sirius glanced at the clock and said, “That ought to be the Weasleys with the tables and chairs.”

“Or Hagrid with the thestrals,” Tonks said.

Andromeda frowned. “Thestrals for a wedding? That’s terribly unlucky —”

“They’re not for the wedding! But I suppose they could be. I could ride down the aisle on a thestral.”

“You will not!” Andromeda said.

Harry did not wait around to see how this played out. Instead, he headed out to the garden, and met Fred and George as they approached the house, Levitating pallets of tables and chairs as they walked.

As Fred waved, the tables he was carrying slipped. Harry waved his wand and caught them before they hit the ground. Together, the three of them worked to turn the garden into a proper wedding venue.

Just as Harry was trying to figure out the maths for the seating arrangement — he did not know how to evenly split fifteen seats across the aisle — Lily came out of the house, carrying one of the centrepieces. She set it on a table and surveyed the boys’ work.

“Do we have tablecloths and chair covers?” she asked the Weasleys.

George scratched his head. “Er — Mum didn’t give us any.”

Fred rubbed his hands together. “I’m sure we could Conjure something.”

“No need,” Lily said. “I’m sure James has something in mind. Harry, go let him know we need linens outside. Fred and George — help me set up the archway.”

Harry headed inside and found James halfway down the stairs, arms burdened with a box labeled “silver cutlery.”

Harry helped him get it into the kitchen and conveyed Lily’s message.

James stuck his head out the kitchen window and looked at the setup in the garden with a frown. “I think there’s one of Grandma Lavinia’s summer table cloths in the attic. I don’t know that I could Duplicate her work, but maybe I could cheat it…” He glanced down at his watch and swore. “Harry, can you find Sirius while I look for it?”

“He’s with Tonks and Andromeda. I don’t want to go back in there. Can’t you do it?”

James sighed. “Fine. I’ll get Sirius, you get up into the attic and find the tablecloth. I don’t know if you remember it. It’s been so long since we had a garden party —”

“I’ll figure it out, Dad. I can find something nice and floral.”

Harry headed up to the attic, and though he did not know exactly where all of his great-great-grandmother’s fabric was, it was not hard to find. There was a clear cut path to the linen storage, since James and Sirius had pulled most of it out already to cover the furniture in the house. It was a neat trick, to blame the wedding, so the Aurors were less likely to suspect they were preparing the house for vacancy.

Harry was no expert on seasonal fashion, but he guessed that the darker colours were for autumn, and dug around for something light. He thought of his mother’s centrepieces and the flowers he had picked for them: iceberg roses, jasmine, tuberose, rhododendron — all of them white. The only colour was in those blue gentians she’d asked for…

Harry grabbed one decorated in blue forget-me-nots that danced along lacey edges and carried it downstairs. He was surprised to see his father and Sirius standing in front of the fireplace arguing, and set the cloth down to see what was wrong.

“Why are you complaining to me?” James sighed. “Complain to Remus.”

“I’m not complaining,” Sirius snapped. “I’m asking for help.”

“We’ve got enough else to do.”

“It’s not that complicated — easier than the map.”

“The map took us years.”

“To work out the charms! This won’t be hard. Just look at it.” Sirius shoved a piece of parchment into James’ hand. “Please? It’s important to me.”

James shook his head, but Sirius was so rarely earnest in this way, it was hard for Harry to imagine that James would deny him.

“You’re a right bastard sometimes,” James grunted.

“I wish I was a bastard,” Sirius smiled. “Instead I’m just a son of a bitch.”

“You’re an hour late son of a bitch. Get out of here. With any luck Ted’s already got him half-ready and you’ll just be an escort.”

But as Sirius turned to use the Floo, it lit with green flame, and out stumbled Proudfoot the Auror.

James smiled pleasantly. “Ah, Proudfoot. How are the kneazles?”

“Shifting their spots daily,” Proudfoot said, but he was distracted as he answered the predetermined nonsense question. He eyed the draped furniture uneasily, and Harry’s stomach tightened.

James, however, seemed unconcerned. “Robards was doing a perimeter check, last I saw. We expected you earlier this morning, actually. He’ll be glad to see you.”

“Sorry.” Proudfoot stared at the tablecloth in Harry’s arms. “I — er — it was a last minute change. I didn’t — I mean — Thicknesse thought I was best suited for the job today.”

“Well you’re in for a treat! Lily’s in the garden, finishing up the decorations. Sirius was just on his way out, so if you don’t mind moving…”

Proudfoot apologised and stepped aside, eyes still roving the house as if it were his first time visiting. Harry had met Proudfoot once already this summer, and the Auror had moved through the house easily then. Most of the Aurors were familiar with the Potters’ estate by now, and the Potters were unfortunately familiar with most of the Aurors. He wondered why Proudfoot looked so uncomfortable today.

As Proudfoot headed out into the garden to relieve Robards, Harry whispered, “Do you think he knows?”

James raised his eyebrows. “I should think that Scrimgeour would have arrived himself if the Ministry was worried. But you’re right. Proudfoot is behaving oddly, isn’t he? Keep an eye on him for me. Sirius has given me a bit of extra work, so have your mum finish the linens, and if she needs me, tell her I’m doing a bit of alchemy in the laundry room.”

“Alchemy?”

“Well, I suppose I’ll be Transfiguring lead to gold, but alchemy sounds cooler, doesn’t it?”

Harry could not imagine what James meant, but he couldn’t ask for clarification. The fireplace roared green again, and this time Ron stumbled out, followed closely by Hermione. Both carried enormous trays of food.

“Harry!” Hermione said. Her wide smile and awkward shifting in stance told Harry she very much wanted to hug him, but it was difficult to do with her arms full of food.

Harry wanted to take the tray from her, but he had his own hands full with the tablecloth. So he led her and Ron into the dining room table. They set aside Lily’s centrepieces to make space, but when Arthur Weasley came through the Floo, too, also bearing trays of food, they hastily cleared breakfast from the kitchen.

Picksie took the time to make sure that Ron, Hermione, and Arthur were not disguised Death Eaters, something Harry felt a bit guilty for not doing, but he also thought the Death Eaters would not have arrived with armfuls of food if they were intent on killing him.

Once Hermione’s hands were free, and Picksie had confirmed that she was indeed Hermione, she pulled Harry into a hug and kissed his cheek.

“We’ve missed you!” she said. “How have you been?”

“Alright,” Harry said, and hugged Ron — though Ron did not kiss his cheek. “How’s the Burrow?”

Ron grimaced. “I liked it better when Mum didn’t like Fleur. Now it’s all wedding talk all the time. It’s nice to get away for a minute.”

“Yeah, no wedding talk here,” Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

“No wedding talk about <i>my brother</i>.”

“Put us to work, Harry,” Hermione said. “How about that tablecloth you’re still holding. Does it go somewhere?”

While Arthur went back to the Burrow for more food, Harry took Ron and Hermione into the garden. Lily took one look at the tablecloth he had brought out and directed him to put it on a small, square table with two seats. Then with a wave of her wand, she Summoned what Harry thought were bedsheets from the house, and set Ron and Hermione on Transfiguring them into tablecloths to match the head table.

“Don’t worry about making the flowers move,” Lily said. “It’s an old trick even I don’t know. But make them match in colour, and I think even Andromeda won’t complain.” She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the garden.

The chairs had been arranged into rows of four, with an aisle cutting through the middle that led from the kitchen door to a small archway decorated in white roses and jasmine, filling the garden with a pleasant aroma. Proudfoot wandered around the corner of the house, keeping watch with a distracted look on his face, nothing like how alert Robards had been. It was a bit early in the day for someone to have Confunded him, and Harry wondered what the Ministry had been thinking, sending Proudfoot to keep an eye on the wedding.

A chime flitted over the garden at pace with the afternoon breeze, and Harry and Lily both turned towards the orchard.

“That’ll be Hagrid,” she said. “Hopefully Moody’s with him. I’ve got to finish the bouquet. Harry, have your father finish the aisle, and the music —” She muttered a curse under her breath. “Sirius was supposed to put out the record player.”

“I got it, Mum. Dad’s er — busy, with something for Sirius. I can do the records and the aisle.”

Lily frowned. “I thought they finished their best men speech last night after supper. How could they possibly have more trouble to get into?”

“Something about alchemy. Dad wouldn’t say.”

Lily frowned but did not press Harry for more information. “Music, then. Arthur can do the aisle, and Fred and George can set the —” Lily looked at Fred and George, who were tying a series of white balloons over the archway with an unusual amount of caution.

“Should I be worried those balloons might explode?” Lily asked.

“Probably.”

Harry let his mother deal with the Weasley twins, and hurried into the parlour to retrieve the record player. He tucked a handful of records under one arm and with the other, Levitated the record table, grateful he did not have to guide it down any stairs. He had not expected, however, the sitting room fireplace to light up bright green and Cedric Diggory to stumble out.

Harry yelped and dropped the record table. It crashed into ground and Cedric jumped, nearly dropping the camera he was holding.

“Sorry,” Cedric apologised quickly. “Sorry — easy fix, though.” And with a wave of his wand and a muttered, “<i>Reparo</i>,” the record table was set right.

“Thanks,” Harry said, and though he was sure that Cedric was Cedric, he asked, “What do a snake, cup, and diadem have in common?”

Cedric’s face turned grim. “I’d like very much to see all three of them destroyed.” He glanced around the sitting room and lowered his voice. “Speaking of, your last letter said you found something before leaving Hogwarts.”

Harry had so much that he wanted to talk with Cedric about, so much that he had been afraid to put into letters, even as protected as their letters were. He wanted to show Cedric the diadem that was hidden in his trunk, and he wanted to tell him about his dream last night, but he knew that now wasn’t the time.

“Later,” he said, and pointed at the door to the study. “Tonks and Andromeda are in there. Fair warning: they can’t seem to agree on anything.”

Cedric wrapped the strap of the camera around his wrist. “I don’t think I’ve used this thing since I was thirteen, but I’ll do my best to capture only the best parts for Andromeda’s sake.”

Harry left Cedric to take pictures of the bride, and he finished getting the record table set up in the garden just as Hagrid finally walked out of the orchard with a wooden crate in his enormous arms. Mad-Eye Moody was a few paces behind him, struggling to keep up with Hagrid’s stride.

Greetings were exchanged and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were given Hagrid’s crate and put in charge of setting drinks out. Hagrid had brought champagne, which, while fitting for a wedding, did not seem particularly fitting for Hagrid. There were three bottles of Firewhiskey, though, which did seem more appropriate.

“You’re the only one underage, Harry,” Ron teased as he and Harry set the bottles out on the table, while Hermione cast a Cooling Charm over the champagne.

“Only for four more days,” Harry shot back. “Besides, my parents wouldn’t care —”

Hermione slapped their hands as they both reached for a bottle of Firewhiskey. “You two are going to want to have all your wits tonight. I wouldn’t dare.”

Ron made a face at Hermione, but did not reach for any more alcohol. They instead helped Fred and George finish setting the tables with glasses and cutlery. Most of these dishes Harry hadn’t seen since his eleventh birthday, which may very well have been the last time his family had hosted a garden party. Each summer since then had somehow seemed busier than the last, and the traditional garden parties had fallen to the wayside.

Though this wedding was not the same by any stretch, had been planned hastily, and had a very different guest list than their usual parties, there was something strangely familiar about hosting a summer event like this. He wondered if, as stressed as his parents were about the day going perfectly, they weren’t also enjoying the chance to throw one last party before they all left the house.

Another chime carried over the garden and into the house, and Harry froze, hand still on a champagne flute he had just set down. He looked around the garden and ran a quick count of the guests.

Arthur was just finishing the aisle. Fred and George were setting cutlery out. Cedric had emerged from the study and was snapping a photo of the table arrangements. Hagrid and Moody stood together at the kitchen door, Ron and Hermione were right beside Harry setting out plates, and he could hear Picksie working in the kitchen.

Harry made eye contact with Lily across the garden, where she was tying the last of the tulle around the chairs. They shared the same thought: If James was working in the house, and Sirius was bringing Remus and Ted by Floo, and Tonks was in the study with Andromeda, then who had just arrived?

“Someone’s here who shouldn’t be,” Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione, as Lily whispered something to her wand, and a silver doe glided into the laundry room. James appeared moments later, wand drawn and a grim look on his face.

The pleasant, busy atmosphere turned cold quickly. Arthur hurried over to Harry, Ron, and Hermione and tried to usher them inside. All three of them drew their wands and refused to leave.

“We’re here to help,” Ron said, “so if there’s trouble —”

“You’re here for a wedding,” Arthur reminded him, and glanced over at Proudfoot, who had at least picked up that something was wrong, “and one of you is still underage. Inside, now. And don’t bother Tonks until we know for sure what’s happening.”

Reluctantly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went into the kitchen, but posted themselves at the window looking out onto the garden.

“Do you think it’s Death Eaters?” Ron asked. None of them had put their wands away. “Do you think they know what we’re up to?”

“It could be the Ministry,” Hermione suggested.

“Picksie, do you think you could find out what’s happening?” Harry asked.

Picksie wiped her hands on an apron smeared with flour and pink streaks from cake fondant. “Oh, yes, Harry, Picksie will be right back.”

She disappeared with a pop. Harry had just turned back to the window when the fireplace roared to life and Sirius, Remus, and Ted Tonks stepped through. Remus adjusted the cuffs of his jacket and brushed soot from his shoulders.

Sirius didn’t bother to clean himself up, but he frowned at the three crowded around the window. “What did we miss?”

“Someone’s here,” Harry said, “someone who wasn’t invited.”

“Wait —” Hermione leveled her wand at the three of them. “What was wrong with the grandfather clock in Grimmauld Place?”

“Kept throwing bolts at our head, didn’t it?” Sirius said as he drew his wand. “Remus and James fixed it. Now can we focus on —”

Picksie reappeared with a pop and announced, “Lyall Lupin has arrived.”

Harry was not sure he had ever seen Remus go so pale. Not even after a rough full moon, and not even when he had seen the form of Tonks’ patronus for the first time. He staggered, and Sirius helped him into a chair.

“Alright, son?” Ted asked, placing a careful hand on Remus’ shoulder.

Remus hardly seemed to notice his soon-to-be father-in-law. He looked between Sirius and Picksie as if they were about to tell him it was all a terrible joke. When they didn’t, he licked his lips and asked, “But… why is he here?” His voice was weak, and Harry hurried to get him a glass of water.

“I imagine it has something to do with his son getting married today,” said Sirius. “We didn’t exactly keep the event as private as you’d wanted.”

Remus gave Harry a grateful smile, but when he turned back to Sirius, his face was sour. “No, instead you’re using me and Tonks —”

Remus stopped himself as the kitchen door opened, but it was only James, face grim. “Did Picksie tell you?”

Remus nodded.

“I told him to clear off,” James said. “He said he had to talk to you first, and to Tonks, but I told him that was out of the question. Groom’s not allowed to see the bride before the wedding and all.”

“What is that?” Sirius asked. “Some rubbish Muggle superstition?”

“It worked out for Lily and I alright,” James said defensively.

“Really? I always assumed she stayed for your enormous —”

“Padfoot!”

“— fortune.”

“Enough,” said Remus, “please. I’ll see what he wants. I don’t expect he’ll stay long.” He finished his water and stood. James and Sirius followed him out to the garden.

Harry watched from the doorway as Remus approached an elderly gentleman in worn dress robes. He had a rather large nose, but his wispy white hair and generally thin form made Harry think he might fall over in a stiff breeze. Harry wondered why he had never met Lyall Lupin if the man really was Remus’ father. He had always understood that Remus and Sirius didn’t really have family outside the Potters. Andromeda was an exception, and not really a Black anyway, and Regulus was only a recent addition to the family. Harry was instantly suspicious of this person who had suddenly appeared and shocked Remus enough to make him nearly faint.

Lily walked alongside the petal-strewn path, and when she reached the kitchen, she pressed a bouquet into Harry’s hands. “Can you take this to Tonks and tell her what’s happened?”

Harry glanced down at the bunch of flowers. “Is Remus alright?”

“I think so. And if he isn’t, he has back up. Just ask Tonks if she approves of the bouquet, and where she thinks Mr Lupin should sit.”

“Remus said his dad wasn’t staying.”

Lily’s smile was gentle. “I think Remus isn’t the only one who’s decided to stop running away today. Now will you go and talk to Tonks, please?”

Harry didn’t see why Lily couldn’t be the one to take the bouquet to Tonks and ask about seating arrangements, but he knew better than to make his mother ask a third time. Harry took the bouquet back to the study and knocked on the door.

Once he got the all clear, he pushed the door open and froze. Tonks had finally put her wedding dress on, and she was stunning in a way that caught Harry off guard. The sleeves were entirely white lace, decorated in rose vines that climbed her arms and neck. The lace was interrupted by a sweetheart neckline and a close-fitting dress. Its plainness only made Tonks’ personality louder. Tonks herself was so vibrant, with her bright pink hair and uncontrollable grin, and the simple dress let her be the standout piece in the ensemble, rather than it. She was positively glowing with joy.

“Not bad for two days of work, eh?” Tonks said, twirling for Harry.

“You mean my two days of work,” Andromeda said. “I still think your hair works better with the veil if it’s to your back.” She picked up a plain band with an enormous length of tulle attached.

“Oh, give it a rest!” Tonks snapped. “This is why I wanted to elope, you know. I knew you’d make my wedding all about you —”

“Forgive me for caring about how my daughter looks on her wedding day —”

“I know you’re upset that you didn’t get a wedding, Mum, but this doesn’t mean I get to be your do over.”

Harry suddenly wished he were anywhere else and considered running back to Lily to make her come ask about seating arrangements and bouquets. But it was Andromeda who left. She dropped the veil onto the vanity and pushed past Harry. Tonks sighed and fell into a linen-draped chair.

“Should I —”

“Let her go,” Tonks said. “She’s been sniping at me for little things all day and I can’t apologise for what I said just yet. Dad’ll smooth it all over when he gets here. Sorry you had to see that, though. Is that the bouquet?”

“Oh — yeah.” Harry handed over the cluster of iceberg roses and jasmine, interspersed with lacy white flowers and forget-me-nots, and a bright blue gentian at the center.

“I’m sure Mum would find something wrong with it, but I think it’s perfect.” She set it down on the table. She put her hand to her face and started to rub her eye, but quickly pulled it away. “Shit — Mum spent two hours on my face.” She checked her reflection and grumbled something about, “What was the point in being able to change my face to whatever I want if my mother was just going to paint over it?” as she tried to clean up the smudged makeup.

“Er — my mum also wanted me to ask you about seating stuff,” said Harry.

“Is there a problem?”

“Sort of. Remus’ dad is here.”

Tonks blinked at Harry in the mirror. “I… don’t think I knew he was alive.”

“I didn’t either.”

“Remus never mentioned him when we were talking about family, he just said James and Sirius were it — and you and Lily, of course — but he never said anything about parents. Merlin, what do I do? I’m not ready to meet his dad.”

“You’re marrying him, though.”

“Yes — but — what if he’s awful? What if that’s why Remus didn’t mention him?”

Harry already didn’t have any fondness for Lyall Lupin, but he remembered his mother’s kind smile when she had said Remus wasn’t the only one who was done running. “I don’t know, but if Remus wants him to stay, he can’t be all bad, right?”

“I suppose, but that means he’ll have to sit up front, and that moves everyone around and — oh, Harry, when it’s your turn I cannot recommend eloping enough. This whole thing’s a mess.”

“I’m sorry — it’s my fault you’re doing this —”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that at all!” Tonks abandoned her attempt to fix her makeup and took Harry’s hands. “Remus and I are happy to do this for you and your parents. I know you’ve all done so much for Remus, and I’m sure this will be worth it. It’s certainly made my mum happy.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

“She and Dad didn’t get a wedding, and she’s the sort who always wanted one, but Dad’s Muggle-born, you know, and, well, you’ve at least met my great-aunt in portrait-form. I hear she wasn’t any better in the flesh.”

Harry had met Walburga Black in both portrait-form and boggart-form. He’d also seen the scorch marks on the Black family tapestry and the inkblots on the Black family tree that should have been Sirius and Andromda’s names. It was no surprise that Andromeda had run away from her family to marry Ted Tonks.

“But,” said Tonks, “if this is what it takes to smuggle you out from under the Ministry’s nose, then we’re happy to do it. Which Auror is here anyway? Which of my coworkers do I have to avoid eye contact with for the next six months out of fear of laughing in their face?”

“Some bloke called Proudfoot.”

Tonks scowled. “What the bloody hell is Proudfoot doing here?”

“Er — is he that bad?”

“He doesn’t get a seat,” she said. “I don’t care how tired or hungry he is, he doesn’t have a seat at my wedding.”

“Oh — are you —”

There was a knock on the door and Ted Tonks’ muffled voice said, “Dora? Can I come in?”

When Tonks gave him her permission, he pushed the door open and froze, much like Harry had.

“Jesus, Merlin, and Joseph,” he breathed.

Tonks’ anger disappeared and she laughed. “I don’t think that’s how that goes, Dad.”

“Well — you’re quite lovely,” Ted smiled. “Can I hug you or will I wrinkle it?”

“Mum put an Anti-Wrinkle in the dress, but I might smear my face all over your robes.”

“I’ll wait until Diggory’s got all the pictures your Mum needs then.” Ted turned to Harry and said, “Mind if we have a minute alone?”

Harry was happy to give them that.

In the sitting room, Harry passed by Andromeda weeping into Sirius’ shoulder, but Sirius gave Harry a wry smile that indicated it was alright, so Harry went looking for his parents. He found them in the garden, debating where to add a chair for Remus’ dad, and Harry was happy to inform them that Mr Lupin could have the chair that had been set aside for the Auror on duty; Proudfoot did not need a seat.

“I always thought he was alright,” James said, “as far as the Ministry’s lackeys go, anyway.”

“I’m sure Tonks has her reasons,” Lily said. “I’ll put a drink in his hand to smooth the whole thing over.”

As Lily swung by the untouched drinks table, James sighed and slipped something into his waistcoat pocket.

“I suppose Sirius’ project is a bit of a waste then.”

“A waste?”

James opened his other hand to reveal a silver wedding band with a single diamond set into it.It wasn’t especially large, but it was lovely in its simplicity, much like Tonks. “Remus’ dad came to give him his mum’s ring, so they didn’t need rings after all.”

“You made them rings?”

“Sirius’ design. It was a nice gesture of him. I suppose we’ll save them for another time.”

“You could at least give Remus his?”

“They’re more of a set…” James pulled his own wedding band off of his finger and handed it and the diamond ring to Harry. “We’ll sort a band out for Remus another day, when we have time. Can you give them that during the ceremony?”

“What? Why am I doing rings?”

“Who else is going to be the ring-bearer?”

“I don’t know — Ron?”

James shook his head with a small smile. “You don’t have to walk down the aisle or anything. Just hand them to Moody when the ceremony calls for it.”

Harry looked down at the two rings in his hand, then put them in his pocket. “So Mr Lupin is definitely staying?”

James glanced across the garden to where Remus and his father were still talking quietly. “It’s a bit uncomfortable, but Remus seems to be glad he’s here. And Lupin wasn’t scared off by Sirius’ glare, either, so that’s something.”

“Why have I never met him?”

James ran a hand through his hair. “The short of it is that Remus’ dad always blamed himself for what happened to Remus, and seemed to find it easier to avoid his son than deal with his guilt. Sound like anyone we know?”

The kitchen door flew open and Sirius shouted across the garden, “Bride’s ready!”

There was not exactly a bride’s side and a groom’s side of the aisle, since, apart from parents, the wedding guests weren’t especially partial to one over the other. There also wasn’t much of a procession to be had. Moody took his place in front of the small gathering, and Harry thought he looked rather unhappy for what should be a celebratory occasion. He had also been surprised when, during the hasty wedding planning two nights ago, James had suggested that Moody perform the ceremony. Harry did not think Moody made for a believable officiate of anything.

But if Proudfoot was suspicious of Moody or the strange ensemble of guests — half the Weasley family, a few of Harry’s friends, a half-giant, and a house-elf — he did not show it.

Remus helped his father into a chair in the front row then watched anxiously as Sirius walked Andromeda to her seat. Andromeda was still weeping, but Harry thought that no longer had anything to do with her fight with Tonks, or Sirius would not have let the wedding begin.

Harry moved to sit in the second row, but Sirius caught his arm.

“You’ve got the rings, right? You’re in front.”

Harry didn’t know much about wedding etiquette, but he thought it a bit unfair to both him and Sirius that he got stuck sitting next to Lyall Lupin in the front row, and Sirius got moved to the second row, but there was no time to argue. Tonks stood at the kitchen door, holding onto her father’s arm, and everyone got to their feet.

The veil was nearly as long as the dress, but it did not completely hide her face. Her hair was still short and pink. Despite Tonks’ complaints about having a wedding at all, she was grinning as her father walked her down the aisle.

When Harry looked at Remus, he saw that Remus was stunned, the way both Harry and Ted had been when they had first seen Tonks, and then, very slowly, his face split into a grin matching Tonks’. He looked years younger in a single moment, and Harry could not remember ever seeing Remus look so unabashedly happy.

Harry risked a glance at Sirius. Unsurprisingly, Sirius’ eyes were trained on Remus. Harry was glad that everyone else was looking at Tonks and there was no one to see Sirius’ smile falter as Tonks reached Remus.

But Lily, though her eyes were still on Tonks, reached her hand over to Sirius’ and squeezed. It was a tender gesture that she usually reserved for James or Harry. In fact, Harry could not recall anything like tender affection between Lily and Sirius — especially not lately — but Sirius held onto her hand like he was holding on for dear life.

At the end of the aisle, Ted Tonks lifted the veil and kissed his daughter’s cheek. She was still grinning as she took Remus’ hands. Instinctively, Tonks leaned forward to kiss Remus, too, but James shouted at her to stop, and laughter rippled through the few gathered. Even Sirius smiled and shook his head.

The setting sun cast a golden haze over the garden. Despite the summer heat, a cool, steady breeze blew, gentle enough to flutter Tonks’ veil but not enough to disrupt the ceremony. Andromeda cried through it all, and Lyall Lupin seemed unable to sit still. He fidgeted beside Harry while Moody read the ceremony, and when Tonks and Remus exchanged their vows, he wiped a tear from his cheek.

Moody reached the part about the rings and Harry half-jumped out of his chair. He fumbled as he dug the rings out of his pocket, and he couldn’t help but worry that his delay had ruined the entire thing. No one else, however, seemed concerned. Picksie was seated beside James, sniffling into a handkerchief. In fact, just about everyone had gotten out a handkerchief to catch tears with a few notable exceptions.

Ron was not crying; he was fidgeting almost as much as Mr Lupin, but Harry thought that had more to do with what was coming after the wedding than the wedding itself. Fred was not crying either, but he had gotten out a handkerchief and passed it to George. Proudfoot, too, had dry eyes as he stood in the back, wand drawn, taking a sip from a glass Lily had given him at the start of the wedding. Harry wondered if Proudfoot should be drinking while he was working, but then he thought if Proudfoot wanted to drink, that would make their escape tonight that much easier.

When Moody concluded the ceremony, the Weasley twins’ balloons popped, releasing a shower of gold sparkles and a burst of doves. Someone cheered, and Remus and Tonks exchanged their first kiss as a married couple.

At least, Harry was fairly certain they were officially married. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that Moody was a true officiate, but no one else seemed to have any reservations, least of all Proudfoot, who let Lily fill his glass again while everyone moved chairs across the garden to the tables set up by the food.

Harry was grateful to finally get a plate of Molly Weasley’s cooking after smelling it for hours. He was not sure he’d had anything to eat since breakfast, and even that had only been a few bites hastily grabbed between running around preparing for the wedding.

He, Ron, and Hermione took a seat at one of the tables, and they were joined not long after by Fred, George, and Cedric.

“Blimey, that Proudfoot bloke looks unhappy,” George said, eyeing the Auror.

“I wonder if Tonks forgot a sixpence,” Hermione said absently.

The boys all stared at her.

“What? Oh, don’t tell me wizards don’t do ‘something old, something new.’”

“You could start with what’s a sixpence,” said Ron.

“It’s from an old poem. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a sixpence in her shoe.’ It’s sort of like a knut, and it’s meant to ward away frustrated suitors.”

Harry frowned at Hermione. “Ridiculous Muggle superstitions aside, you really think Proudfoot is jealous?”

“Look at him. It’s obvious. He can’t take his eyes off of Tonks — do we still call her Tonks?”

“If that’s what she wants,” Cedric said. “To be fair to Proudfoot, Tonks is exceptionally beautiful and the centre of the event.”

“The only thing he’s frowned at harder than their kiss is his empty goblet,” Fred said. “He looks like George did when I took Angelina to the Yule Ball.”

George threw a spoon at Fred, catching him on the shoulder. “He looks the way you’re going to look next week when every time you talk to one of our new French veela cousins your breath smells like dragon dung.”

“Would you really sabotage me that way? Your own brother?” Fred batted his eyelashes and the table laughed.

As the sun set, music and laughter filled the garden in equal measure. Even Sirius, Harry was glad to see, was laughing and joking with Hagrid and Picksie. When Andromeda announced it was time to cut the cake, Cedric got to his feet.

“That’s my cue.” He picked up his camera and followed Tonks and Remus to the cake.

“Glad I didn’t get that job,” said Ron.

“I think we’re lucky Cedric remembered he had a camera,” said Hermione. “Mr Weasley was convinced that Mrs Tonks was going to hire a photographer if she couldn’t find someone in the Order.”

“Dad offered to use a Muggle camera,” George said, “but she wasn’t too happy with that idea either.”

“Moody was furious enough that she wanted a photographer at all,” said Fred. “Said we didn’t need something the Ministry could get a hold of.” He glanced at Proudfoot, who was helping himself to his third or possibly fourth drink. “Surprised they were content to let us get off with just one Auror, to be honest.”

“Cedric and Tonks are here,” Hermione pointed out. “They technically work for the Auror Department. Maybe Scrimgeour trusts them not to risk their jobs.”

“Tonks is risking a lot more than her job by marrying Lupin,” Ron said with a snort. When Harry and Hermione frowned at him, he quickly added, “I’m not saying they shouldn’t have or there’s anything wrong with it — just that it might not be a legal wedding.”

Before Harry could craft a snide remark about the Ministry, Tonks took the bite of cake she was meant to lovingly feed her new husband and instead smashed it into his nose. Everyone laughed — except Andromeda and Proudfoot. Sirius laughed so hard that he fell out of his chair and onto the grass. Judging by Cedric’s grin, the moment was forever immortalised on film, and Harry was glad that even if Moody thought the camera was unwise, they would have a record of a day filled with so much laughter. He had a feeling they were all going to need it in the coming months.

The toasts were next. As she poured the champagne, Lily insisted that Harry have no more than one glass, and advised everyone else at the table the same.

Ted Tonks spoke briefly; he thanked the Potters for hosting them on such short notice and thanked Tonks for putting up with her mother so spectacularly, which got a few more laughs from the crowd, then said, “And Remus,” he tipped his glass, “Andromeda and I are proud to call you family. I had something written up about you becoming a Tonks, but I was informed that the Potters had laid first claim.”

There was a ripple of laughter among the guests. Sirius and James both hollered, and Lyall Lupin shifted uncomfortably in his seat beside Andromeda.

“Dora, Remus,” Ted continued once Sirius and James had quieted, “I know this isn’t the day you wanted, but I could not think of a better group to celebrate with. Each of us knows you in a different way, and each of us knows what it means to be an outcast. It would be a disservice to the both of you to pretend today was an easy decision, but it should have been easy. Dora, I haven’t seen you smile this way in years, and your mother and I are both very happy for you. To your continued health and happiness.”

The small crowd repeated the toast and drank. Harry considered what Ted had said about being outcasts. He thought about how two of the people present had been forced to leave their families to find their happiness. He thought about how three of the guests were Muggle-born, and what it must be like for Ted and Andromeda to watch their daughter choose to marry someone with Remus’ condition.

Remus stood, but looked unsure and anxious once more. The scrap of parchment in his hand trembled like a leaf. Tonks stood, and closed her hands around his. She, too, looked like it was hard for her to follow her father’s speech, but she said, “Well,” she cleared her throat and dabbed at the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, “Dad, I thought you said your toast would be funny, so Remus and I put together a real sappy tear-jerker, but you’ve gone and ruined it.” She grinned, and the company laughed. “You’re right, this wasn’t the wedding we wanted, but —” She took in a deep breath and took the speech from Remus’ hands. Instead of reading it, she crumpled it up in her fist. “James, Lily, and Sirius — I don’t know how to thank you, because you did everything you could to give us the wedding we deserved. You made sure we had friends and family with us. You opened your home and by Merlin, the flowers — everything was beautiful. And Fred and George, we have you to thank for that, too. The doves were a nice touch. Arthur, you’ll have to pass our gratitude along to Molly for the food, and Hagrid, you always have the best drinks for a party, because that’s what today always should have been for us — a party. And we have all of our friends to thank for that. Thank you for reminding us that today is meant to be a celebration. To more days like today,” she said, and smiled, but Harry could see tears running down her cheeks as they repeated the toast.

“I think Dora said it best,” Remus said. He looked down and twisted the ring on his finger. Then he paused and looked at James. “We have incredible friends, who give freely.” And he looked at Sirius. “And friends who do not hesitate to remind us of what we deserve. To our friends, all of you.”

The couple drank, along with the guests, and sat down. Next, Sirius and James both stood, and made a show of pretending like they were ceding the floor to the other, a terrible back and forth, which had Andromeda rolling her eyes and Hagrid roaring with laughter. But while James and Sirius had their joke, Lyall Lupin had already gotten to his feet.

“If I remember anything about you two,” Lyall Lupin said to James and Sirius, and coughed into a handkerchief, “you’re a terrible act to follow, so I’d just like a moment, if you don’t mind.”

James and Sirius both looked to Remus for approval. When Remus nodded, they reluctantly took their seats. Sirius folded his arms over his chest and sulked like a hippogriff who’d lost a crest feather.

Lupin cleared his throat and said, “When I met Hope — my wife —  I didn’t care much that she wasn’t a witch. Several well-meaning friends warned me that my children might not be magical, and I didn’t care much about that either. I loved Hope, and I knew I would love the family we had together, whatever it might be.” The glass in his hand trembled, so he set it down and steadied himself against the table. “And that was always true. It is still true. I came here today expecting a cold welcome, and to hand off what was left of the best part of our family, but instead I have found that the best part of our family was never gone.” He paused, eyes on Remus and Tonks, and then James and Sirius. “Thank you,” he said abruptly, and sat down.

“To family,” James said, and got to his feet.

The toast was echoed, and Sirius stood, too.

“Anyone else want to interrupt us?” Sirius asked with a dangerous grin. “Because he’s right, we’re a tough act to follow, so speak now or forever hold your peace and all that.”

James waited for the laughter to die down before turning to Remus and Tonks. “Now, I believe we gave you two several jokes today that are on that parchment you so lovingly crumpled, but since everyone went and gave earnest speeches, Sirius and I are about to look like asses.”

“You were always going to look like asses!” Lily said.

Sirius cocked his head like a dog who had just heard a quail in the underbrush. “What’s that? A heckler?”

“No — don’t —” Lily protested with a laugh, but James pulled her to her feet.

“Thank you, darling, for volunteering,” he said. “I know today is about Remus and Tonks, but a toast to my wife, for all the lovely floral arrangements, which is impressive considering she barely scraped an ‘A’ in her Herbology N.E.W.T.”

Lily pushed James and sat back down as their friends laughed.

“Alright,” James said, “a toast to myself because I also did a lot of the decor.”

Harry shook his head, torn between amusement and embarrassment. He almost wished James had the excuse of being drunk, but no one had consumed more than a single drink except for Proudfoot, whom Lily and Arthur kept plying with refills of Firewhiskey.

“Now, Prongs,” Sirius said, and threw his arm over James’ shoulders, “you can’t go about making everything about you. Today’s about our dear friend Moony and my baby cousin Nymphadora.”

Tonks booed and tossed her napkin at him. Sirius flashed her a grin.

“Ah, you’re absolutely right,” James said, and adjusted his glasses. “A toast to Moony, who will forever be remembered in our hearts as the scrawny eleven-year-old we thought was too good for us, until one quiet Sunday morning when he suggested we slip firecrackers under the Slytherin table.”

“I thought,” said Sirius, “you were always going to remember him as the Prefect who took a couple of hundred points off of you and dared you to win them back in the next Quidditch match.”

“I am still bitter about that,” James said, “and the bleach in my shampoo. But should we move on before Dora starts to think this is all about him?”

“To Dora,” Sirius raised his glass, “who will always be the second person to throw up on my favourite leather jacket, because Moony was the first, after drinking too much at a Quidditch victory celebration.”

Remus buried his face in his hands, and looked like he was regretting every nice thing anyone had said about his friends today.

“But most of all,” James said, “a toast to love. Because it’s the only reason any of us are here. We’re here because we love Remus and Tonks, even though each of them are a handful all on their own.”

“Hear, hear,” Ted and Mad-Eye said at the same time, to another round of laughter.

“And we’re here because they love each other,” Sirius said. “And that love is why they deserve each other. So a toast to love.”

The guests clinked their glasses against one another and tossed the drinks back. Harry finished his and thought he would be fine if he had another, but also knew tonight was not the night to find out his limits.

Sirius turned up the music, and he and James both dragged Lily onto the dance floor. Andromeda, however, forced them back into their seats, reminding everyone that Remus and Tonks got a dance first, and she looked pointedly at Cedric, who hastily set down his champagne glass and picked up his camera.

Remus resisted being pulled out of his chair as much as Lily had, but Harry thought that Remus had never truly been able to resist pressure from James and Sirius, who pushed him out of his seat and into Tonks’ waiting arms. She whispered something to him that turned his ears bright red, and he put his hand on her waist.

“Kiss her!” Fred shouted.

The blush spread across Remus’ face, but he did kiss her, and when they pulled away they were both smiling at each other. Harry suddenly wished Ginny were here with him, but at the same time, he was glad that she wasn’t. It was bad enough that Ron and Hermione were coming with them tonight.

When Remus and Tonks had finished their first dance, James and Sirius once again dragged Lily out of her chair. It wasn’t much of a dance floor, just a stretch of the garden around the record player. Hermione, apparently thrilled that she recognised the song, pulled Ron up to dance with her. Cedric tried to take a seat, but Fred and George each took an arm and propelled him away from the table, reminding Harry very strongly of the way James and Sirius treated Remus and Lily.

Suddenly, Harry found himself alone, and though he wasn’t fond of sitting alone, the options for dance partners were slim at this party. He considered getting Picksie to dance with him, but she looked very happy sitting with Hagrid. He wondered what they were talking about, what Hagrid and Picksie could possibly have in common, but Hagrid seemed to have a way of making friends with anyone.

Harry watched Mr Weasley fill Proudfoot’s drink even as Proudfoot insisted he didn’t need more. Ted and Andromeda joined the small dance party, and Harry was surprised to see Lyall Lupin get to his feet as well. But Mr Lupin did not join in on the dancing. Instead, he headed straight for Harry. It was too late for Harry to pretend he hadn’t noticed and make a quick escape, and it wasn’t like at Dumbledore’s funeral, where he could slip into a large crowd of people and disappear from an unwanted conversation. He had nowhere to go as Lyall Lupin sat down in the chair Hermione had occupied just minutes ago.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to meet,” he said.

“Er — no.” Harry looked for his parents to rescue him, but James and Lily did not seem aware of anyone nor anything else as they danced. Sirius had stolen Tonks from Remus, and Harry did not see Remus at all.

“I suppose introductions are unnecessary.”

“I suppose so.”

Mr Lupin looked at the glass he had brought with him and refilled it with a tap of his wand. He took a drink and fidgeted with the stem of his glass. It was strange, Harry thought, to see so much of Remus in this man who was so unfamiliar to Harry. It almost made Harry like him, but Harry felt determined not to give into that.

“You look a good deal like James did at your age,” Mr Lupin said, and Harry was annoyed that they were thinking of each other in nearly the same way. “But you seem much more sensible than he was. It seems like he and his friends haven’t changed much at all.”

Harry thought of the memory of Sirius and James bullying Snape while Remus tried to make himself small and unnoticed. He watched Sirius pass Tonks off to her father and pull Andromeda into a dance, while Lily grabbed Remus for a dance and James collapsed into a nearby chair to watch, grin plastered on his face. He thought of the grief he had seen in his father and Sirius just yesterday.

“I don’t know, they seem a bit different to me.”

If Mr Lupin thought it curious that Harry knew enough about who James and Sirius were at sixteen to make that sort of statement, he didn’t show it. Instead, he said, “When Remus told me that his friends had worked out his… condition… I very nearly withdrew him from Hogwarts. I was terrified of his secret being exposed, of the danger he would face from others if they knew what he was. I was surprised, to say the least, when Remus insisted these friends didn’t mind what he was. I could not imagine what those boys might be like, and was sure they were lying or using Remus. But here we are, almost thirty years later. Even with his secret becoming public, they’ve stayed by him. I never would have imagined, in a hundred years, people like that existed. I never would have thought…” He watched Tonks as she pulled herself away from Sirius and stumbled, but Remus caught her and the two laughed.

“I wasn’t sure I would ever see that smile again after Hope died.” Mr Lupin took another sip of his champagne. “I only came because I thought if he truly was getting married, he should have a piece of her with him, and I wanted to meet the person who had decided to spend her life with him. I thought she must be quite incredible.”

“She is incredible,” Harry said, “but she’s not the only person here who’d spend their entire life with Remus.” Harry saw Sirius take a seat beside James, exhaustion plain on his face, and James threw his arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “Sirius and my dad and my mum all made that commitment, too, just not with an official ceremony or anything.”

Now Mr Lupin stared curiously at Harry. “You’re an interesting young man, Harry. Not at all like I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“The <i>Daily Prophet</i> has not exactly been kind in the way you’ve been depicted these last few years, and I have had no way to know for myself what you were like.”

“I dunno, you could have visited. You obviously knew where we lived.” It was perhaps not a polite response, not the sort of thing his grandmother would approve of, but Harry did not think it was untrue nor unfair. Harry thought of the careful and cold way that Lyall Lupin spoke about Remus’ “condition” and thought it sounded a lot like the way Remus talked about himself. Remus had learned quite a lot from his father, and none of it, at least that Harry had seen, was particularly good. So perhaps it was for the best that Ted and Andromeda approached their table just then, for both Harry and Lyall Lupin’s sake.

Andromeda kissed Harry’s cheek. “Thank you for all your hard work. You put up with Tonks and I spectacularly.”

Harry did his best to smile at her. “Did Cedric get good pictures?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Ted said, holding up a small round tin of film. “But we thought we’d best leave the rest of the party to you young folk.”

“I suppose I should take that as my cue as well,” Lupin said, and pushed himself to his feet with a groan. “Though I think Alastor must be twice as old as I am.”

Andromeda laughed. “Mad-Eye’s said he’ll stay until Proudfoot’s sober. Poor thing doesn’t seem to know his limit.”

Harry watched Proudfoot sway on his feet, then lean against the table to keep from falling over. He still didn’t know what Proudfoot had done to upset Tonks so much, but he hoped that Proudfoot deserved it.

Ted, Andromeda, and Lyall said their good-byes, and Lily and James walked them into the house to Floo home. Harry drummed his fingers on the table nervously. Everyone who remained, except for Proudfoot, was in the Order. Everyone left was part of the plan to get his family out from under the Ministry’s watch. He wondered how much longer the celebrations would go on for.

Not long, apparently. As James and Lily returned from escorting their guests out, Proudfoot promptly collapsed into the grass.

“Well,” James announced to the party, “I think that means it’s time for all of us to go.”

[boopypastaissalty]

We Are Not Broken

The Session

Dr. Flemmings cleared his throat. “Now that all of you are here, let’s begin. The first thing I want you all to do is tell everyone what happened to you. It’s okay that you are here and you all have had similar experiences. This is a LGBTQ+ safe zone, so don’t be afraid. Who wants to start?”

Everyone looked at each other, none wanting to go first. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Logan took a deep breath, “I was kidnapped and tortured because of my gender and sexuality, along with Roman and Remus,” the twins both flinched at the statement, remembering all too well what had happened and what they had all been through together, “I have scars all over my body from the various weapons and beatings. It was hell, we were all malnourished and suffering, and I remember having to watch our kidnappers beat the everloving, pardon my language, f*ck out of Roman and Remus, I don’t remember the times I was beaten all too well, but it was all because some people thought not being cishet was a crime, found the twins and then found me.”

Dr. Flemmings nodded, “Use whatever language you need to, Logan”

“Does Spanish count?” Roman piped up, both twins were multilingual, both parents being native spanish speakers, their father from Spain and their mother from Mexico, in high school Roman took French and Remus took German and begrudgingly, at their parents request, taught each other and had become proficient in both languages. Sometimes the twins talked to each other in a strange mix of English, Spanish, French, and German, something they called Enspanchan.

“Preferably a language we all can understand, Roman”

Roman slumped a little, “Ay, lo siento” he said under his breath.

“Logan, do you have anything else to say?” Dr. Flemmings asked.

Logan shook his head and fidgeted with his hands, he had never been good at processing strong emotions, he usually distracted himself by researching and educating himself on random topics, incorporating them into his Sign Language lectures at the school he worked at.

“Uh well, I guess it’s my turn,” Patton said, interrupting Logan’s train of thought, “I was taking a walk, and some guy noticed the strap to my binder and commented on it. I didn’t think much of it, I ignored him and kept walking, but then he grabbed me and started calling me… horrible things and he dragged me into the nearby woods and…” Patton took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, “He took off all my clothes and destroyed my binder. He told me I’d be beautiful if I didn’t try so hard to be a man. He called me an ‘exotic beauty’ and kept asking me what kind of asian I am. And then he started touching me and…” Patton started full fledged crying, not wanting to say it. He got quieter and almost whispered, “He r*ped me… And now I’m pregnant.”

Everyone was silent for a few long seconds, Virgil finally broke the silence “That’s… horrible. What are you going to do with the baby? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Patton took another deep breath and said “I’m probably going to put them up for adoption. Someone out there probably really wants a baby and can’t have one themselves. I’m not saying everyone should do that, though, I mean everyone’s different.”

Dr. Flemmings took note of how much Patton was crying, “You feel broken, don’t you?”

“I feel broken, violated, I wish time would just stop for at least a little while. I wish I could turn back the clock to last month and tell myself to not go on a walk that day, but I know I can’t. I feel like I’m not trans enough, like maybe I’m not actually a man.”

Virgil looked at Patton, “Bullsh*t. You’re trans enough. You are just as manly as you need to be. You’re f*cking valid.” He clapped for emphasis. This was unusual behavior for him, as he didn’t like to have attention drawn to himself, but he hated it when other trans people didn’t feel valid, mainly because he knew how it felt.

“Well, kiddo, I don’t know about all that, just look at me”

“You. Are. A. Man. And. That’s. What. Matters.”

“Fine, you win”

During this exchange, Janus had been writing out their story and held up their hand in a sort of “Stop dooting your horns, you middle school band class” gesture. Everyone looked at them, they just seemed to have that presence, the type that made people shut up and pay attention without really trying. Janus passed around the notepad, which said: After a concert, a lady came up to me, nothing new there, and was haggling me about being nonbinary and how I’m just a “broken man” and then all of a sudden, I don’t really remember this well, I felt something swipe across my throat and there was a strange warm liquid coming from my neck and then it started to hurt. The next thing I knew, there was yelling and I was on the ground with my friend Ethan, he’s the drummer, Hel, pressing down on my neck. Lola, our bassit, Truth, was calling 911. I think I passed out, and when I woke up in the hospital, I was very confused. I was on so many painkillers that I was basically high out of my mind and the most important thing to me at that moment, for some reason, was chocolate chip cookies. I specifically remember being distraught that no one would bring me cookies because I couldn’t communicate that I wanted some. Anyways, that’s not important. This person probably ended my career, the one thing I actually wanted to do with my life, and I don’t know what to do about it. I might never be able to talk, let alone perform, ever again. Also some dumb*ss took a video of it and put it on YouTube and so the whole world knew before I had even arrived at the hospital.

Once everyone had read what was on the notepad, they all stared at Janus. They looked down at their legs. After a moment, Patton got up and walked over to Janus and touched their shoulder. “What else do you like to do?” he asked.

Janus shrugged.

Virgil suddenly blurted out, remembering the chaos after that concert a few weeks ago, “Wait someone put that on YouTube? How has that not been taken down?”

Janus shrugged, not knowing why either, and pulled out their phone. They found the video and played it, looking away. Patton and Virgil looked away from the video, while Logan and the twins watched, all three feeling bad that they couldn’t seem to pull away from the chaos happening on screen, like some sort of morbid scene in a TV show.

When the video finished, Logan, Roman, and Remus were in stunned silence while Janus fumbled to keep the next video from playing, the “What’s in your pants?” meme, which was when one time Janus and the rest of Duality were on a talk show, all in costume, and the host asked Janus the dreaded question, “What’s in your pants?” and Janus had immediately responded by pulling things out of their pockets and listing them, the items getting more obscure as they went “Phone, wallet, keys, worm-on-a-string, tiny rainbow plastic babies, a dead mouse, Quetzalcoatl? [Quetzalcoatl is Janus’s pet hognose snake], and a barbie head.” the clip had spread like wildfire and had become a large part of what Janus’s stage persona, Deceit, had been known for. Everyone in the band had their own costume, usually involving half of the face being different from the other, Janus’s Deceit costume had a Jack the Ripper vibe and they had makeup to look like scales on the left side of their face. Ethan’s Hel was an all black suit and the left half of his body was made to look like dead, rotting flesh. Lola’s Truth had a black and white lace dress and her makeup was meant to make her look inhuman and had several extra eyes on the right side of her face. The final member, Tori’s Valhalla looked like a norse warrior, the right side of their face looked scarred and they wore an eyepatch over their right eye, like Odin.

“That kind of reminds me of what happened to me,” Virgil said with a shudder once the video was over. “I was hanging out with my friend, May, after your,” Virgil pointed at Janus, “concert and ended up crashing at her place. I tend to sleep pretty heavily, so I was surprised when I woke up on the autopsy table for the mortuary science program at the college I used to go to. I had barely woken up before I felt something that felt like a punch in my abdomen. I saw May, she had a knife and looked angry, she stabbed me four more times, repeatedly calling me a dirty tr*nny. I don’t think she realized I was awake. Thing is, she was the one who supported me the most during my transition and always had my back when I had first come out. That’s what hurt the most. She had apparently secretly hated me all these years and just now was releasing all that. I didn’t dare move until she had left and I started to crawl towards the desk phone at the professor's desk. I was almost there when I passed out. I woke up again to the professor shaking me, he’d always liked me and was concerned about me. He told me he had called 911 and shortly after I was hauled into an ambulance and carted away to the hospital, swimming in and out of consciousness. I think May was planning on killing me and having me be found dead on the autopsy table as a morbid surprise for the mortuary science teacher and his first period class of that day.” He was trying to control his breathing and he felt his heart rate speeding up. Virgil hoped that no one would notice and call him out on it.

Janus started writing and then showed Virgil: Was May at the concert too?

“Yeah why?” Breath, dammit, breath. Virgil chided himself

Janus scrunched their eyebrows and started writing again: What does she look like?

“Do you think-” Virgil cut himself off, took in a deep breath, and found a picture of May on his phone. She had a black bob with straight bangs and wore dark makeup.

Janus looked at the picture, That’s her, they wrote. One thing I didn’t mention before was that she had gotten away.

Suddenly Remus started talking “I’d stim and they’d hurt me.” Roman looked at his brother, remembering how Remus would make weird sounds, start shaking his leg, or drumming his fingers on whatever surface he could get to, and after a while their kidnappers had realized that Remus’s fidgeting and sounds were him stimming, one of his ways to try and calm himself down, started beating him more when he did. “And it started happening more and more because I was more stressed and then I had to force myself to not and I had so much pent up, that everything was a million times louder, even the smallest touches were too much, and my head felt so light and it was like I was feeling everything and nothing all at once, like I was both on fire and numb and I don’t know how to describe it.” Even now, Remus was trying to keep himself from stimming, he had his hands firmly grasped together and his legs were crossed unnaturally tight and he was visibly getting upset.

This was the first time Roman had even heard Remus talk about it. He hadn’t realized how much Remus had suffered and how different it was from how Logan and Roman had suffered. No wonder he was so despondent. He was overloaded in every way. Roman noticed how tight Remus was wound up and pulled something out of his pocket, a long, green silicone fidget toy that had small bumps on it for texture. “Hey,” Roman addressed his brother and handed him the fidget toy, “breath.” Remus took it and fidgeted, reminding himself that it was safe to stim now. “You never said how bad it was for you.” Roman said quietly.

Remus nodded, “I didn’t know how to say it.” He had nothing else to say.

Roman looked around after a long moment of silence. “I felt powerless. I’m almost always able to help, but I couldn't do anything. It was so awful only being able to watch, almost worse than getting beat regularly.” Roman fell silent again, not knowing what else to say.

“You feel like you have to be the hero, don’t you? You feel obligated to do it?” Dr. Flemmings asked. Roman thought for a moment and then nodded. “Since we’re coming to a close, I want to tell you all that you all did a good job today. Here’s what I want you all to do: Patton, read Galileo by Pual Tran, I think you’d benefit from it. Janus, I want you to write, I don’t care what you write, whether it be a song, a poem, a backtrack, whatever, as long as you express yourself with it. Virgil, I want you to use methods to regulate your breathing like the 4, 7, 8 technique and I want you to try carrying around a stress ball, same goes for you, Remus. Logan, I want you to express yourself more and come up with a way for you to get your feelings out in a safe manner. Roman, I want you to think about why you feel obligated to be the hero. And lastly I think you all can benefit from each other, as you have all had similar experiences. Thank you all for attending.”

Everyone started saying their goodbyes and started leaving. Janus met up with an older guy in the lobby who nudged them and said “Happy birthday, kid.” The older guy looked a little sad, like he was remembering something tragic. Everyone heard him wish Janus a happy birthday and started wishing them a happy birthday as well.

Patton looked at the guy and said “Is this your dad, Janus?”

Janus shook their head no and at the same time the guy said “I’m their brother. John, by the way.”

“You guys are siblings? Wow! I never would have guessed!”

Janus looked slightly embarrassed, everyone always confused John for their dad, which wasn’t too far off as John and his wife had raised them. “Yeah the twenty-one year age gap doesn’t help,” John said, lowering his gaze somewhat, just wanting Patton to change the subject.

Janus broke off from John for a moment, wrote something down and handed it to Patton. It said: He’s a little sensitive about family history. Mom died while having me and we don’t know who my dad is, so he had to raise me. That’s why he looks a little sad today.

Patton’s mouth formed a silent “O” as he slipped the paper into his pocket and waved goodbye “Have a nice day!”

John looked at his sibling, “What did that say?”

I said you were having a bad day.

“Oh, okay” he believed the white lie.

Logan was on the phone “I know dad, you’ve told me the story every year for as long as I can remember. I’m about to get in the car, so I’ll call you back”

John looked at Logan and whispered to Janus “What are their pronouns?”

He/him Janus wrote

“He looks and sounds a lot like the doctor who delivered you.”

Janus shrugged and started walking towards their car, a black Jeep, and got in, deciding to go to the cafe that John worked at, knowing that John had to go to work, and besides, they were hungry.

Masterpost

[vindicatedvirgil]

amanda’s sanders sides binge reactions, episodes ten-sixteen

losing my motivation — making some changes

home maintenance is not a joke

infinitesimal

i don’t know, LOGIC

the game is on

all business

no you can’t play with us

i’ve been waiting for this day to wear it

he found a dollar

touching up some eyeshadow

what are these grounds

are they coffee grounds

/dadjoke

bleak

you’re not welcome

elementary my dear daddy

what

HE’S NOT ALWAYS THE BAD GUY

how do the sides borrow money from each other i’m confused

sir sing-a-lot

i am a knight thank you very much

oh no how could you do it i trusted you

what’s going on? something good

feelings. the bane of my existence

weird mushy vision you mean my entire catalog of fanfic writing

well who should have done that *cue intense music*

am i in a paradoxical loop

calm down time

that was dark even for me

yes go to the library

logan’s name reveal

Q+A time

laughy cry-y emoji

pouty mcspecs

i really need to up my roman giving nicknames game

his anxiety is heightened VIRGIL IS TALLEST SIDE CONFIRMED

so does roman have a fairy godmother

bippity boppity boo yah

i’m not okay

i promise

but also i am the walrus

wait that needs to be on my patton playlist brb

virgil likes tumblr hence he likes us

i need four cookies

and i will sit on a surface that is not meant to be sat on

patton doesn’t always screw stuff up

i also like podcasts

CAMPFIRE SONG SONG

virgil’s compliments are great what are you talking about

who is texting logan (my guess is orange)

who is texting roman (my guess is remus)

winnie the pooh~

logan tries singing to all star

and virgil just goes “yeahhhh”

i know big words

DO YOU KNOW HOW CUTE YOU ARE

relevant with yesterday’s skirt photo

fanart!

fanfic!

what is a ship?

virgil definitely knows because he’s on tumblr

thomas has a rat in his hair confirmed (it’s remus)

virgil is the first in this one too

sometimes i just gotta be me-an

hide under the covers until the sun goes away

chemically imbalanced romance

we’re donezo

never fear your creativity is here

thomas’ happiness is roman’s mission

cries

you shackle your creativity

wait

remus says something very similar

hmmmmmmmmm

brainstorming extravaganza

patton why were you not wearing your pants

KNIVES

is this why princey spit yogurt at me yesterday

i’m always serious. clearly. i wear a necktie.

roman wears the pants-

they are a family btw

lol time limits

do those exist in current episodes

FIGHTING

...verbally

OMG OMG IT’S TIME

aggressive bouts of beat poetry

nb royalty aka me

*nods like virgil*

WOO!

capita? like the cogitating cap?

patton would love untitled goat game

you tried you failed let’s go to sleep

booyakasha

logan you can’t just call virgil a defeatist

virgil’s face

and he just sinks out without saying anything

am so soft for the boy

roman name reveal!

hey roman

yes?

you’re my hero

SOBBING ENABLED

MY LIFE IS A LIEE

time for my favorite debate, much better than any political debates

analogical time

this could have been a logan centric video if virgil didn’t pop up

wow

we get it, you don’t want me here, but i’m here

i want you here

virgil please be in the video tomorrow

i too call upon very specific facts to feel secure

how bruised is roman

cardigan-clad clod aka me

same, cream based broths upset my tummy unless i take lactaid

wait logan can’t be objective?

haagen daaz dispersion

bad imaginary

vocab word!

a debate *snap*

i wanna be the supreme dark overlord of negative commerce

RIGGED

please help me *screams in agony*

me me big boy

too much pressure, nooo

do they groan in disgust about the butterflies in his tummy because they feel that way about each other or-

this is better than any political debate

TBD = totally believable dude

when did they vote on logan’s proficiency plan i wanna see this

of course it’s not a straight answer no one in this video is straight-

the first FALSEHOOD

did he just hiss at me

i’m right, you’re wrong, shut up

that’s a try guys reference

savage

this is stupid he’s stupid i’m out

LOGAN DOESN’T MIND VIRGIL’S COMPANY

your mom misses you

visual puns are great

amazing!

uhhhh

uhhh

mmmmmmm

no virgil you’re not alone

same patton, i’m always confused

surly temple is one of my favorite nicknames

NEIGH

MOO

BAAA

word association games return

don’t you dare turn breakfast food into a negative metaphor

was this really a necessary visual

screaming

voltron shirt *hits joan*

me watching sanders sides late into the night

great odin’s eyepatch!

well then it’s just 5am and you need to go to bed

keep it up so we get to see virgil more thanks

i’ve dreamed of this moment

NECKTIE

anatomically, thomas is fine

what is the gosh-darn-ding-dang point

adulto

so mean to patton

darude sanderstorm

i want to bounce in a bouncy castle

i want to join a book club with joan and thomas

verisimilitudinous

*gasp* not the necktie

you are the man. you look like the man. i fight the man. i want to fight you now.

janus also fights the man so-

you stole my look

is no one going to acknowledge that he just dabbed

logan asks for patton’s help when they can’t figure out what’s wrong

danny devito reference

mind palace!

star thingies

poor virgil and his eyes

adequate

EEYORE REFERENCE THANKS FOR NOTICING ME

for reference eeyore has always been my favorite disney character

and virgil is my fave

see any connections there

patton-cake

patton name reveal!

growing older is scary but being a kid was also scary because i didn’t know what was going on with my identity

patton understands virgil so well. cries. maybe the asides will fix their relationship

ECHO

listen buddy don’t blame us just because your mind is so empty

that was definitely roman

i didn’t know you made jokes like that

changing...evolving...mutating

why don’t we talk more?

uh oh, feelings

more sentimental than on avalanche

it is flippin sweet man

with you i’m always home-

additional affirmation

whaddup anxiety

if virgil is upset when thomas isn’t near his friends then isolation really has to be messing with him

joan!logan is amazing

terrence!patton though

he/him pronouns all around~

another danny devito reference

okay but talyn!virgil is the best

hissing

breaking the fourth wall? 

single column?

aw patton loves thomas

hehe butt

“we are not actually your friends”

...what

VIKINGMETAL

BIBLIOTECA

i love libraries

I AM FRAIL AND BREAKABLE

a man of many talyn’s

also i didn’t make as many comments on this one because it’s 11pm and i’m starting to get a bit sleepy

[asterythm]

So... on the topic of the last Dark Side.

Honestly, I’ve been intending to make a post pointing this out since the first time I watched LNTAO, but never really realized the importance until I saw @hitmewiththatfanart33​‘s See No Evil theory (if I may dub it as such) and suddenly it just clicked.

Buckle up, folks.

1. The next Dark Side will be Greed, and we have already seen him (to an extent)

Some of you who have been around since WDWGOOBITM may remember a certain post – one of the very first posts I ever made on tumblr, actually – that collected all the timestamps where Roman was acting not quite like himself and theorized that he was actually a dark side in that video. @emtheanxiousdragon​ then added on with this incredible theory: that the next Dark Side will be Greed and, get this, has been “corrupting” the other Sides. In other words, we’ve already seen him… just not all of him.

Now, let’s refer back to the See No Evil theory. I never really accepted the headcanon that the Dark Sides were supposed to be counterparts to the Light Sides in the past – certainly not that Deceit was supposed to be Morality’s counterpart, at least – but for argument’s sake let’s talk about the opposites theory/rainbow theory anyway.

As @hitmewiththatfanart33​ put it…

Remus is Thomas’ view of bad creativity, Deceit is Thomas’ view of bad information, so the final dark side will be orange and Thomas’ view of bad emotions or morals.

Now, what’s the core message that Patton has really been pushing throughout these past few videos (especially SvS, which has been confirmed to be a two-parter)? “Acting in one’s own self interest is inherently wrong” – or, put simply, acting out of greed.

tl;dr – Greed (orange) is Patton’s counterpart and has already been corrupting the other Sides behind the scenes (i.e. where he can’t be seen), most notably Roman in WDWGOOBITM.

2. The next Dark Side will be missing an eye.

Of course, this one just goes hand-in-hand with the See No Evil theory, but it’s more than just a wild guess. I say this because we had at least three videos in a row containing eye injury: Embarassing Phases, LNTAO (which had two!), and SvS. 

Check it out (pictures and continuation of this theory under the cut, because this post is already getting too long)!

Embarassing Phases:

LNTAO 1:

LNTAO 2 (after Logan shapeshifts into a puppet):

SvS:

(all of the “impact” pictures are hilariously terrible but hey, I’m no @ironwoman359​ – my screenshotting skills are admittedly inferior)

Not to mention how Patton’s Embarassing Phases costume literally looked like it had a black eye:

There was also a scene in the latest blooper reel where Roman hit himself in the eye while unsheathing his katana, but since that wasn’t a scripted event I decided not to include images of that one.

All of these individual instances could easily be brushed off as just a funny(/angsty in the case of Logan hitting puppet!Roman) scene, but together? And so close together, no less? There’s no way they’re all coincidence, especially looking at the See No Evil theory.

tl;dr – Greed (or whoever the next Side is) will be missing an eye. Maybe they’ll have an eyepatch. Shiver me timbers, am I right?

Tagging my “general” taglist, because I really don’t want this post to flop:

@surleytemple​ @starryfirefliesbloggo​ @icecoldparadise​ @lyditist​ @fandom-random2405​ @beach-fan​ @ihateitwhenyourejustvague​ @starryeyedhomicide​ @unring-this-bell​ @flix-net​ @follow-pheonix-inside @thelowlysatsuma​ @residentanchor​

[ahandfulofregrets]

“in the woods” AU

(please do not confuse this with “into the woods”. this is an original au. i unfortunately never watched into the woods.)

characters, pt. i:

??? “dee” yamashita: virgil’s employer.  their first name is unknown, and their gender is a big question mark.  a very private individual with an affinity for vintage fashion, an appreciation for the humanities and sociology (but not of humanity nor society), a deep hatred for mother’s day and flair for the dramatic.  they have a gold eye prosthetic and burn scars scattered along the left side of their body.

logan prévost: a newcomer to the post-industrial town. he mostly keeps to himself, either being found in the abandoned planetarium and space observatory or, more often, the town’s library. he fosters a deep distate for his own accent - a heavy southern drawl - and religion. he is fascinated by the unexplained and constantly researches answers for just about anything.

“pat”: the mascot of dee’s antiques store. he is a maine coon cat. his meowing sounds odd, to say the least, but most of dee’s customers don’t have the courage to point it out because he’s just so cute and cuddly. he’s a very calm and polite cat, and for this, virgil refuses to believe that he’s just a normal cat – he is a very well-mannered cat, virgil, thank you very much.

remus reyes: roman’s infamous younger twin. he is a queer anarchist that can barely hold down one job at a time due to his decaying mental health. he mainly copes by committing petty crimes, exploring the woods and keeping various journals. he generally has a bad reputation among the townsfolk. he resents roman, but doesn’t outright hate him.. kind of. it’s complicated.

roman richards: remus’ older twin. he dropped out of college after barely three semesters and has returned to their hometown, in the hopes of possibly finding a new direction in life. he is considerably more socially successful than remus, with whom he’s trying to reconnect with despite the strain, so to speak, between them.

virgil blackwell: dee’s employee. he has heterochromia, and wears an eyepatch over his right eye at times. he should have probably been dead by now, but he either keeps noping out of certain situations or surviving by chance. he gave a name to his sleep paralysis demon out of spite. he keeps adopting critters by accident.

[lostonehero]

A split

Lazarus read the note again, his mom is working again so he had to make dinner alone. She probably wouldn't be back until he was asleep even then she would be at her second job before he woke up for school. She worked too hard for this shithole of a place.

His father well he never met him. His mother was raped and that's how he came to be. His mother was an amazing women she gave up everything for him because she was pregnant out of wedlock. She would tell him so many amazing stories of her old family and how she missed them, but she can't go back because of him.

This hurt him but his mom never blamed him nor harmed him. He just felt the weight of that burden even if nobody told him he should. He removed his eyepatch showing off a black eye where the white should be and a yellow snake eye glowing against the black. Mom says he is a half ghoul which she says was impossible so she calls him a miracle. She even help trains him to control the inhuman abilities.

He finished making his mother's day card filled with a essay of why she is an amazing mother. Leaving her favorite chocolates on the card before heading off to bed.

.....

Lazarus stared at his bedroom ceiling with unease settling in his stomach. He was going to a special summer school for people like him as a precursor for college. His mother kept going on about how he will meet people like himself. He had no idea what that meant but she was really excited for him, and it will help pay for college. That made him excited because his mom didn't have to work so hard.

......

It wasn't even a bus it was a hearse that stopped in front of his house.

"Have a nice summer remember to write and don't forget to tell them what you need to eat I love you Lazarus." His mom said trying not to be seen by the driver. "Oh don't forget the extra eyepatch I got you and I packed you something special."

Lazarus could only smile as he nods and he hugs his mom. "I will never understand why you hide from this stuff. Love you mom."

Lazarus walks out and enters the hearse with a suitcase in hand and his note that he hands to the driver. He removes his eyepatch to show off what he is.

The driver looks at Lazarus in pure shock. "I thought they were fucking with me. I will tell the headmaster that you are for real." The driver says pointing to the seats that Lazarus sits in. The hearse driver mumbles "half ghoul wow I might ass well be in heaven I've seen everything."

Lazarus sits next to a princely fellow tieing his eyepatch back on as the man looks at him in shock.

"You're a half ghoul, your in my prophecy." The prince guy says.

A much more disheveled prince guy jumps to look over the seat. "Looks like you're getting hitched Roman didn't think it was possible."

"Oh shut it Remus you're suppose to marry a demon." The prince guy Roman says.

Lazarus stays quiet not knowing what to say.

"You know where we're going right?" Remus asks.

Lazarus looks up. "A summer school for monsters?"

"YES"

"NO Remus it's an educational training facility for beings other then pure humans. It's a training on how to blend in with humanity and how to be associated with hunters as not to be killed its require if you want to live with humans." Roman huffs.

"But I already live with humans this is paying for my college." Lazarus responds.

"Wait you already live among humans? What's it like? We've never left our kingdom Oh right I'm Roman that's Remus we're fae princes and we're going to live with humans for a long while until we marry or just decide to go home." Roman says smiling

Lazarus shrugs "I dunno hopefully this is better."

.........

Lazarus ended up rooming with Roman after the headmaster passed out realizing he was a half ghoul. He was thankful since Roman he already kind of knew him, his brother got paired with a guy with really thick glasses and two other people he wasn't paying attention to.

He was setting up his room and placed a picture of him and his mother on his desk as he finished laying on his black and gold checkered bed. He was growing uncomfortable with Roman gawking at him.

"You didn't use any magic. How did you do that?" Roman asks amazed.

Lazarus blinked obviously confused. "What? That's how I normally make my bed and put things away."

"Can you teach me? I've never done things the human way." Roman looks at Lazarus with eyes filled with curiosity.

Lazarus nodded and began to teach.

.......

It's been a month and he got his first letter from his mom.

"Hey sweetie how are you? Sorry for taking so long to respond things came up, you'll understand when you get home. Anyways this Roman guy you keep going on about sounds amazing you should bring him home for dinner. You made other friends too Logan Remus Patton and Virgil they all sound nice. Oh make sure Patton eats before a full moon it will help him, and sweetie I hope your eating right because we both know you can't go too long without eating han flesh. Anyways keep sending letters it sounds amazing, love mom."

Within the note is attached what looks like jerky which Lazarus begins to chew on.

"Oh got a gift from home, what did your parent send you?" Logan asks his speech finally sounding less robotic he was a demon not a robot.

"Jerky my mom makes it herself, she works as clean up in a hospital biohazard stuff aka human flesh." Lazarus mumbles chewing on his food.

"Huh neat isn't your mom human? Its surprising that she is ok with all this." Virgil says sipping on his blood milkshake.

"Well she has been doing this since I was born so I guess knew what happened after she was raped." Lazarus frowned at the shocked faces. "How did you think I was made anyways?"

"Love and compassion." Patton sniffs looking upset pulling Lazarus into a hug.

"You do know what ghouls are Patton. Soulless creatures that are neither demonic magic or angelic in nature they are in a category in of themselves which makes them dangerous and extremely hard to predict. They are violent and powerful a half ghoul is well was impossible usally ghouls just kill outright I guess yours got frisky with juicy things." Remus winks.

"You had me in the first half bro." Roman says leaning on Lazarus.

"I have to disagree that was quite informative you really do your research." Logan says impressed.

Lazarus shrugs. "Eh she is fine never blame me."

"I want to meet the wonderful woman who made you Lazarus." Roman says

Lazarus blushes. "Ah shut it Roman."

Roman sticks his tongue out.

.......

The end came way too fast for Lazarus's liking but Roman was coming home to meet his mother. Hopefully she wouldn't be upset. He stops for a second remembering a picture from his textbook on hunters. One of the reoccurring pictures reminded him of his mother. He shrugged it probably wasn't her.

Lazarus opened the door to his house Roman behind him. He stopped dead when he heard Roman shreik.

"THE HUNTER QUEEN DON'T KILL HIM." Roman pulls Lazarus behind him and prepares to take the blow but is only met with a soft tisk.

"Lazarus who's your friend? Oh is this the Roman you wrote to me about he is cute." Lazarus's mother says looking over the two.

Roman was shaking he heard horror stories of how countless faes fell to her blade. "Y-y-you know me?"

"Of course my son sent me a bunch of letters."

Then it clicked for Lazarus. "Oh that makes sense you used to be a hunter no wonder you're ok with everything."

"Oh correct I'm retired now unless someone here breaks my son's heart." She chuckles "oh I'll make your favorite for dinner do you have any requests Roman?"

"Not to die." Roman looks pale as a ghost.

"Do you like spicy chicken I'll make that." She smiles.

Roman can only nod now hiding behind Lazarus who goes up to his room.

.....

"Your mother is what horror stories are for my well every supernatural kind. The cursed immortal hunter who can kill everything she sets her mind to." Roman gasps

Lazarus hums. "That explains why she looks so young."

"Why are you not freaking out she can kill us."

"Roman you forget she is my biological mother, and retired." Lazarus looks to Roman who seems to be in deep thought

"THAT'S WHY SHE VANISHED IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE. Also explains why you went to the summer school so you wouldn't be targeted."

Lazarus sighs. "Why did I fall in love with you?" He quickly slaps his hand over his mouth.

"You love me?"

Lazarus looks away nodding.

Roman looks at Lazarus with amazement. "Fuck fear I love you too."

They kiss.