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rosepetalgold · 9 months

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the art of saying goodbye

Summary: Remus expects a lot of things from the Queen Anne Victorian house he’s just purchased—a restoration project to occupy his time, some peace and quiet from nosy neighbors, a chance to brag about being a homeowner before his goody two-shoes brother.

What he doesn’t expect is for the property to come with a very real, very curious ghost. But what is he supposed to do, just ignore the spirit? That'd be nothing short of rude, especially considering that the specter's fascination with modern science and penchant for hijacking Remus' technology proves unfairly endearing.

But even as their unlikely friendship grows, so too do the questions swirling in Remus’ mind: Why is Logan still haunting the place he used to live? Who is the mysterious Janus he refuses to talk about? And what will it take for the ghost to finally find peace with the life and the love that were stolen from him so long ago?

Relationships: Platonic Intrulogical, past romantic Loceit, background romantic Prinxiety

Warnings for this chapter: None!

Word Count: 7000

Notes: My fic for this year's @sandersidesbigbang, aka another angsty tale that inexplicably grew out of a single fluffy scene, aka a prime excuse to procrastinate by poring through countless photos of beautiful Queen Anne houses my beloved. I hope you enjoy this ghostie story as much I enjoyed writing it! A big shoutout to my wonderful beta reader @dragonsaphirareads for all their feedback on this fic, and don't miss the amazing art by the incredible @casart and @onthevirgeofdestruction—you can check out their pieces here and here! (Seriously, even if you don't read the fic, go feast your eyes on their work because it is straight-up stunning. Go look, you'll see.)

Read on Ao3 Masterpost

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“This place is definitely haunted.”

Remus snorts, giving his brother a friendly sock in the arm.

“Oh come on, Ro, you scared of a few ghosties now? Afraid a floating white sheet is gonna jump out and yell boo?”

Roman doesn’t answer, just eyes the Queen Anne Victorian home in front of them with the amount of trepidation he usually reserved for any time Remus started a sentence with ‘I have an idea.’ The house does give off distinctly spooky vibes, Remus has to admit, what with its boards in desperate need of a new coat of paint and its broken window in the attic, not to mention the porch that looks liable to send someone plummeting to the ground if they take a single wrong step, but what was wrong with any of that? It all just added to the building’s character, and the risk of falling through the veranda was a delightful way to keep visitors on their toes, in his superior opinion.

And besides, he couldn’t turn his nose up at the property’s many flaws when they made it dirt-cheap. He wasn’t exactly a millionaire.

He grabs Roman’s arm, tugging him forward.

“C’mon, there’s some wicked spindlework on the back you gotta check out.”

His brother makes a sound of protest, dragging his feet as Remus hauls him onward.

“Aren’t we going to go inside?”

“Nah, I don’t have the keys yet. Everything’s still pending or whatever.”

Roman shifts his incredulous gaze from the house to Remus.

“You made me come all this way just to look at the outside of a house you haven’t even officially bought yet?”

Why yes, he had. He was such a good brother.

“Don’t act like it’s such a burden to drive twenty minutes out of the way to get here, especially when it means you’re twenty minutes closer to a booty call with Virgil.”

Roman splutters, face flushing a splendidly scandalized shade of crimson, and Remus cackles. That was more like it.

“Now c’mon c’mon c’mon, the sooner you ooh and aah over all my cool house shit, the sooner you can get some of that good di—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Roman interrupts, slapping his hands over his ears, but he doesn’t protest as Remus pulls him around to the back of the house and points out the expansive if overgrown backyard, the plethora of decorative elements adorning the home, the leaded glass windows that have survived well over a century.

“I don’t get it, though,” Roman says as he eyes the tower gracing the corner of the house, something Remus would swear is a hint of jealousy in his gaze. Made sense. He knows for a fact his brother would sell his soul to be Rapunzel. “If this is such a nice place, why has it sat empty for so long?”

“Dunno. The realtor just said it stayed in the family of the guy who built it for a while before changing hands a bunch. Apparently every time it’s been on the market it’s taken ages to find a buyer, but she didn’t really say why no one wanted to live here for too long.” Probably just her trying not to scare him away from what was clearly a substantial restoration project so she wouldn’t lose her commission. Either that or there was some kind of toxic fungus in the walls that had taken over all the previous residents’ brains and turned them into zombies and Remus was about to become its next victim.

What a delightful gamble to find out which one it was.

“Can we please go now before some serial killer comes charging out of this place and we both end up on the news?” Roman asks, already edging back towards the front of the house.

“Sure, if you really want to give up your one shot of having your fifteen minutes of fame in the media,” Remus replies, dancing away with a grin as Roman aims a kick at his shins. “Fine, fine, we’ll go. I wouldn’t want to keep you from a hot date and some—”

Something catches his attention, a flash of movement out of the very corner of his eye, and he pauses mid-stride, doing a double-take at the second-story balcony overlooking the backyard.

Nothing. Not even a curtain blowing in the non-existent breeze.

“What?” Roman questions from where he’s also stopped a few yards ahead of him.

Remus looks a moment longer, searching for anything out of place, but all is still.

“Nothing. Probably just a bat or something. Wouldn’t that be cool as shit, to have bats as roommates? Hey, maybe they have rabies if they’re out in the daytime. Did you know…”

He launches into a spiel of the most gruesome and fascinating facts he knows about the disease, joyfully watching his brother’s face grow increasingly horrified with each one as they make their way back across the yard, and by the time they reach the driveway, the flicker of movement is barely a blip on his mental radar.

Just a trick of his eyes, surely.

It wasn’t like houses could actually be haunted, after all.

---

Home sweet home.

Or home rundown-and-slightly-musty-smelling home, as the case may be, but who was Remus to nitpick?

He fits his shiny new key into the lock and steps inside, letting the door click shut solidly behind him as he pauses just over the threshold, taking a moment to survey the foyer. His foyer now, in his very own home. The sale had been endless offers and counteroffers and a mountain of paperwork so large he’s positive he could have buried himself beneath it and never been seen again, but the place is finally his.

Him, a homeowner. Who’d have thunk it. He’ll be rubbing this in Roman’s apartment-renting face every chance he can get, thank you very much. It’s the least he can do, really.

He unceremoniously deposits the cardboard box in his arms on the floor and wanders further inside, trailing his hand along the smooth wood of the stair banister as he passes. He’s supposed to be meeting some of his friends back at his old place shortly—or now, actually, but that was wholly irrelevant—to start moving all of his worldly possessions into his fancy new abode, but he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of taking the first load of boxes alone just to have the place to himself for a bit; he could use a few minutes to enjoy the space in peace before it’s filled with Roman and Virgil squabbling about the worst Disney movie heroes or whatever argument they were bound to get into.

Despite its well-worn exterior, the house is in surprisingly good condition inside, he muses as he roams through the empty rooms. There’s clearly extensive work that needs to be done if he wants to restore the place to its Victorian glory, an ambitious undertaking he knows will be neither cheap nor easy, but the bones of the structure are all solid, especially considering how many years it’s stood empty.

He finishes his meandering loop around the first floor and heads up the stairs, the tread of his steps entirely too loud for the pervasive quiet as he continues his exploratory wandering through the second story rooms. He pauses as he reaches what is clearly the master bedroom, surveying the original fireplace, the century-old hardwood, the attached balcony that was just begging to be used to pour water onto his unsuspecting brother’s head. Shit, his new house was cool as fuck.

It’d make the most sense to start hauling his load of boxes here, considering that’s where most of his crap is going to end up eventually, but the longer he hovers in the doorway, the more something feels … off. Just the slightest tingle prickling down his spine, and not the good kind. He steps inside and the temperature drops noticeably, a chill raising the hair on his arms.

“The fuck?” he mutters, raking his gaze over the windows in search of damaged panes letting in a breeze, but everything is intact.

He advances another step on impulse and the pinpricks dancing along his vertebrae only grow stronger, now accompanied by the distinct feeling he’s being watched. He scans the room again, slower this time, but there’s no furniture, no closet, not so much as a nook or cranny for anyone or anything to hide. Even the ceiling is empty when he turns his gaze upwards on the off chance he really does have some bats hanging around that he’s somehow missed on his numerous pre-sale walk-throughs.

Nary a beady eye to be found and still the sensation of being in someone’s sights doesn’t lessen. Not that it’s a threatening feeling, exactly, just distinctly unsettling, like there’s someone behind him no matter how many times he glances over his shoulder and finds nothing but empty air.

But that was crazy. He’d read the final sale documents until his eyes had been about to start bleeding and he’s absolutely positive that the house hadn’t come with any roommates. He’s probably just imagining the feeling, the result of watching one too many horror movies in the last week or his brain making things up in an attempt to liven up the empty space.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, yanking him out of his thoughts, and he rolls his eyes without even looking at the screen, already able to see the text from Roman in his mind’s eye: where you at?? i’m not packing up all your crap for you followed by an absurdly long string of emojis that basically constituted their own Roman-specific hieroglyphic language.

Time to face the moving-day music before Roman got annoyed enough with waiting that he rescinded his promise of free manual labor, then. Any investigations of potential invisible voyeurs would have to wait, no matter how titillating such a prospect sounded when he put it like that.

“You win for now, house,” he says into the quiet as he turns to leave, an edge of coldness still dancing along the goosebumps on his skin. “Keep your secrets. I’ll figure ‘em out eventually.”

---

The afternoon passes in a blur of hauling entirely too many heavy boxes and unwieldy pieces of furniture to the new house, and by the time night settles onto the horizon, Remus is utterly exhausted. He flops back on the couch, too tired to even think about putting his bedframe together, and he’s out in minutes.

He wakes disoriented, mind scrabbling blankly for a moment before the darkness coalesces into the still-unfamiliar contours of his sitting room. He just lies there for a moment, trying to figure out what’s roused him, but all is still. Just his brain deciding to deprive him of some tantalizingly horrifying nightmares, unfortunately—

Tap tap tap.

Remus bolts upright at the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the hardwood upstairs, adrenaline surging in a dizzying rush. There hadn’t been any signs of a squatter all day, and surely he’d remembered to lock the doors so no one could steal all the crap he’d just spent a whole day of his life lugging around. He waits for a moment, holding his breath as silence falls, and just when he’s about to pass the whole thing off as his imagination playing tricks on him, the steps start up again, slow and rhythmic like someone is pacing on the upper level.

Fuck his luck. If someone is secretly living in the attic of his fancy new home, he’s not going to be pleased.

He rolls off the couch and snatches his phone off of one of the plethora of boxes waiting to be unpacked, debating whether to risk turning on the flashlight before deciding for it; he might give away any element of surprise with the beam, but he’s certain to give it away if he starts banging face-first into walls or cracking his skull open falling down the stairs. His eye catches on a glass paperweight on the coffee table, a characteristically pretentious housewarming present from Roman, who apparently thought Remus had so many papers flying about that he needed to corral them with a glorified rock, and he seizes it on a whim.

Makeshift weapon was a much more useful purpose for the thing than its intended function anyways.

He edges around the scattered boxes towards the stairs, careful to keep his steps light and his hand shielding the light from his phone as the footfalls continue overhead, and makes it all the way up the steps without so much as a creak to give him away.

Flawless. He knew all those times sneaking up behind Roman to scare the shit out of him as kids would pay off someday.

He pauses on the landing to triangulate the noise, then creeps down the hall towards the footsteps as the sound grows even more distinct. The master bedroom again? What the actual fuck was going on with that room? Had he really managed to miss someone in there when he’d investigated earlier in the day? No, he couldn’t have, but then how had someone managed to get past where he’d been sleeping on the couch? Unless he really did have somebody living in the walls—

A floorboard squeaks underneath his foot, deafeningly loud in the quiet of the night, and the footsteps abruptly stop. Remus swears under his breath. Traitorous piece of wood. Now or never, then.

He lunges forward into the doorway of the master bedroom, raising the paperweight and howling a war cry as he swings his light across the room to reveal—

Nothing. The space is as entirely and utterly empty as it had been that morning.

Well, shit. There went any element of surprise he had left.

He darts back into the hall, racing to search through the rest of the rooms on the upper level one by one, but they’re all just as vacant as the first. He even hauls himself into the attic, bracing himself to be clubbed over the head by whoever is lurking, but with the exception of innumerable shadows billowing away from his flashlight, the space proves equally empty as the rest.

Unease stirs in his gut, creeping in alongside the lingering adrenaline as he makes his way back down the precariously rickety ladder into the main house. Surely there’s no way someone could have gotten past him, not when he would have heard them in the hall or going down the stairs.

And yet, as far as he can tell, besides a few mice tucked away in the attic, there isn’t another living soul in the house.

He stops in the doorway of the master bedroom again, staring inside. He’s positive this is where the footsteps had been emanating from, lack of proof be damned. Something weird was going on with this house.

Good thing Remus had just made the biggest financial commitment of his life to buy it.

Nothing for it now but to hope some elusive, wall-dwelling ax murderer doesn’t give him the chop in his sleep, he supposes, although he has to admit that’d be a badass way to go.

He reluctantly makes his way back downstairs and shoves a pile of boxes at the foot of the stairs to trip any nefarious intruders coming down, then retreats back to the couch, all the while keeping his ears primed for so much as a whisper of sound above him.

But even though it takes him a long time to drift back to sleep, the house around him remains as silent as a grave.

---

The whole thing must have been an impressively lucid dream, Remus decides the next morning. A second investigation in the light of day doesn’t reveal anything out of place: no shoe prints on the floor, no critters, certainly no people. It was probably nothing then, he tries to convince himself, just his overactive imagination needing an outlet after being a bit too jittery from all the excitement of moving.

But he finds himself pausing in the master bedroom again, something drawing him back to the space. First the chill and the strange feeling of being watched, then the mysterious footsteps? Two separate coincidences, or something more?

God, he sounded about as paranoid as Virgil. Next thing he knew he was going to be inventing his very own conspiracy theory to explain a few bumps in the night.

It really was nothing, he tells himself, shaking off any lingering unease as he tromps back down the stairs. If he starts jumping at every little noise in his old-as-shit house, he’ll be long dead before he gets the property restored. If he starts seeing glowing red eyes in the dark, he’ll start to worry. Until then, he has a mountain of boxes to unpack.

Unfortunately, said mountain does not pull a Beauty and the Beast and begin unpacking itself, leaving Remus to spend a dreadfully dull afternoon doing it instead, only the allure of building a fort out of all the empty boxes keeping him from living out of cardboard for the rest of his life.

By the time he’s finally finished unboxing most of the downstairs and getting the tv and wifi set up, most of the day has passed him by, afternoon sunlight splaying golden fingers across the hardwood.

Break time, then. He’s earned it, if he does say so himself.

He collapses onto the couch, flipping on the tv and surfing through the channels until he finds a rerun of some low-budget horror film from the eighties. Perfect. Nothing like a bit of mindless tv to rot his brain just that much more. Settling back more comfortably into the cushions, he pops open the bag of chips he’s snagged from the kitchen and pulls out his phone, beginning to scroll through his notifications.

Modern multitasking at its finest, truly.

But he’s barely a minute into atrophying his mind via social media before the tv starts flickering, volume dropping precipitously before ratcheting back up, the picture jumping to the weather channel, then a British cooking show, then the news with Spanish subtitles flashing in and out at the bottom of the screen.

Remus freezes with a chip halfway to his mouth, staring at the remote where it’s very definitely out of his reach on the coffee table, all by its lonesome. He’s no expert, but he’s pretty sure technology was not, in fact, supposed to suddenly start functioning by itself without any human input. Was his new house secretly sitting over some freaky radioactive waste? That would certainly explain why no one had wanted to buy it. Or was this some EMP disaster? Had someone decided to take out the whole country’s power grid, starting with Remus’ shitty tv?

He sits up, reaching for the rogue remote, only to pause as a chill moves over him, then past him like it’s heading for the tv, and the screen crackles, static beginning to fuzz both the video and the audio as the picture continues to leap wildly between programs.

Fuck the remote, then. Whatever freak accident has descended upon his living room, it’s time to go straight to the source.

Abandoning his snack, he stands, striding to the outlet and yanking the plug out of the wall. Silence falls immediately, the screen fading to black, but there still lingers a noticeable chill in the air, cold energy palpable against his skin and all too reminiscent of the feeling he remembers from being in the master bedroom.

“What the hell,” he mutters under his breath, casting his gaze around the room. Empty, just as upstairs had been the last three times he’d checked. He takes a step backwards, then another, and the strange chill decreases. On a whim, he pulls out his phone, scrolling through several apps without even paying attention to them, and sure enough, the hair on his arms raises as the temperature falls again, that sparking feeling of energy growing more intense as his phone begins to flicker on its own.

“What the actual hell,” he whispers again. Roman can’t have been right—this place can’t actually be haunted. There’s absolutely no way there’s a real, live—or dead, technically, he supposes—ghost in his living room right now playing fuck-up-the-electronics.

But if there is…

“Hello?” he calls, and the flickering abruptly stops, chill retreating once more. Shit. One word in and apparently Remus has already fucked things up. “Hello?” he tries again. Did this maybe-possible-potential ghostie even speak English? “I’m Remus,” he says, feeling more than a little crazy for introducing himself to his empty living room. If Roman ever knew of this, he’d die laughing and then Remus really would have a ghost haunting his ass.

He wracks his brain for something to say. If he were a ghost and a stranger started moving all of their shit into his home, what would he want to hear from them?

“Um, cool house you have here. I’m not gonna like, fuck it up or anything.”

Silence.

“I’m planning on restoring it bit by bit as I have money so if you could tell me the original paint color or wallpaper patterns, that’d be dope.”

Still nothing. Apparently the ghost is not amused. Time for a different tactic, then.

“What’s your name?”

Not even a cricket chirping. Jesus fucking christ, Remus is really blowing this.

“That’s the tv—the television,” he explains, gesturing towards the device that had seemingly either fascinated or enraged his new housemate, he can’t quite tell which. “It works by… well, I don’t really know how it works. Something with waves and frequencies or some shit? But you can watch recordings, people acting or baking or doing dumb reality dating shows or whatever, so if there’s something that you wanna see…”

He trails off, surreptitiously scanning the room for any ethereal presences, but the house is quiet, the ghostly feeling fading bit by bit. Great. An actual paranormal experience and he’s gone and shoved his foot so far in his mouth he can practically feel his toes wiggling in his small intestine.

“Alright, that’s cool, no worries. Just lemme know if you change your mind.”

He waits a moment more, hoping for a disembodied voice to speak or an object to start moving on its own or his body to suddenly become possessed, but there’s nothing. Snagging his leather jacket off the back of the couch, he beelines for the door, forcing himself not to run as excitement begins to grow with every step, bubbling up around his bones. He has a ghost. A ghost, an actual fucking ghost, and he hadn’t even had to pay extra for it. No way he’s not going to take advantage of the universe handing him the sickest housewarming present in the world, never mind the fact that he might end up a walking meat suit for the spirit.

He pauses as he reaches the edge of the yard, then thinks better of it and pivots, heading for his car instead. Who knew how far ghost range was, and he doesn’t want his new roomie overhearing. He’s practically vibrating with energy as he makes his way down the long, winding drive, and he only makes it a few miles down the road before he’s pulling over onto the shoulder, hopefully well out of spirit range.

His first call rings through to voicemail, but Remus doesn’t bother leaving a message, just hangs up and tries again, only to be met with the same result. The third time, though, proves to be the charm.

“What,” the voice on the other end spits, cheerful as ever. “Fuck you, Remus, I’m in the middle of—”

“You’re still into all that weird stuff, right? Like the cryptids and the creepies and the ghouls and ghosties and all that?” Remus interrupts. He can deal with Virgil’s wrath another time—he has information he needs and he needs it pronto.

A pause, so long he’s sure Virgil has hung up on him and he’s going to have to keep calling until the emo answers his question.

“Yeah?” the distrustful reply finally comes, anger blunted by obvious wariness. “Why—”

“I need to pick your brain,” Remus cuts in again. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

---

Plan Contact The Resident Possibly Unfriendly Ghost Who Might Possess Him, or CTRPUGWMPH to be short and snappy about it, is officially a go.

Unfortunately, it isn’t off to a promising start.

Virgil’s knowledge had turned out to be more spirit lore than specifics about how to get a ghost to actually appear, although he’d been infinitely more helpful than Roman, who’d just stared at him and asked if he’d had the house checked for carbon monoxide poisoning. Remus had soundly ignored him and had left Virgil’s apartment with his head swimming with theories about why ghosts haunt particular places and an extensive lecture from Virgil about how to find any potential objects or reasons tying a ghost to the house that might provide a potential talking point to engage said ghost in conversation.

But despite digging into every crack and crevice on the internet, emailing the local historical society, even calling his realtor to ask again about the history of the property, Remus comes up with precious little. The house had originally been built in the 1880s by a local merchant, everyone seems to agree, and had been inherited by his nephew soon after, but beyond that there’s frustratingly scant information available, and he can’t find so much as a whisper about anyone dying in the home. His ghostie could be anyone, then: A Victorian builder who’d taken a tumble, a flapper girl who’d partied a tad too hard, a hapless victim of some modern serial killer who’d taken advantage of the place sitting abandoned for years to do a bit of light murdering.

With precisely zero context clues as to his new housemate’s identity, then, Remus embraces his remarkable talent of keeping up an entirely one-sided conversation as he works around the house the next few days, rambling about anything and everything related to the property he can think of, hoping something will pique the ghost’s interest. But besides a few more cold spots and flickering screens, the house remains stubbornly quiet. Maybe his ghost just needed a bit of help in communicating, though; drifting around an empty building with no one to talk to for the past god-knew-how-many years can’t have done good things to their incorporeal vocal cords.

Which brings him to Plan B: The infamous Ouija board, favorite tool of grifters and bullshit paranormalists everywhere.

And yet despite the makeshift, very high-budget seance he conducts with the two dollar board and the zero dollar candles he’s lovingly stolen from his brother, there’s once again no reply from beyond the veil besides a chill in the room that somehow radiates disapproval. Apparently his ghost isn’t a fan of pseudoscientific games any more than he is. At least they had standards, whoever they were.

But Remus is a stubborn bastard if he does say so himself, so on to Plan C it is. The used EMF meter he snags off of ebay has definitely seen better days, given the prominent crack across its screen, but the thing had been cheap and still seemed to work, so Remus wasn’t complaining. Fancy equipment was for fancy people, after all, and of all the things he’s ever been called, he’s positive fancy isn’t one of them. He sets up the device behind the tv, which still seems to intrigue his ghost every time it’s turned on, puts on the first show he can find, and forces himself to walk away. His little trap is set. Now all he has to do is bide his time pretending to busy himself unpacking a box of books in the next room—

He barely has the chance to register the tv screen flickering out of the corner of his eye before an ear-splitting shriek is rending the air, startling him so violently that he promptly drops a hefty tome on his foot.

“Shit,” he breathes, surging back into the living room, but the noise has already stopped just as suddenly as it began, replaced by a frigid chill permeating the room. Maybe he should have thought twice about scaring the resident phantom without first hiding any of his valuables. Hopefully he won’t wake up tomorrow to find his tv shattered. “It won’t hurt you,” he calls, though the EMF meter indicates a distinct lack of any supernatural presences. “It just makes noise to let me know when you’re nearby, yeah? Totally harmless.”

No response, but for once he doesn’t mind, not when there’s excitement dancing white-hot across his nerves. There really is a ghost or spirit or demon or something here, and he hasn’t just been imagining things.

Fuck, this house is single-handedly the coolest thing that’s ever happened to him, even if he does now have to worry about his haunting buddy getting a bit of revenge on him in the middle of the night.

But Remus survives safe and sound into the next day without so much as a supernatural scratch on his skin. Bloody payback didn’t seem like his ghost’s style anyways, not when their favorite activity seemed to be pressing as many buttons as possible on the tv remote at once. Curiosity is still nipping impatiently at his heels though, urging him to explore this latest avenue of potential communication more, so he sets up the EMF meter again, this time in the master bedroom where the spirit seems most inclined to spend time if the continued pacing in the middle of the night is anything to go by.

A brilliant plan, only minorly ruined by the fact that the device is nowhere to be found when he goes searching for it the next morning.

“Are you disappearing things, ghostie?” he asks the empty bedroom. “Gonna zap me into another dimension next?”

He’s joking, but as his hunt through the house reveals neither hide nor hair of the EMF meter, he can’t help but wonder. Had the ghost really just yeeted the thing into the ether? Or maybe it was right where he’d left it in the middle of the bedroom, but had been turned invisible like the spirit themself? What kind of ghostly superpowers did he even have, if any—

He comes to an abrupt halt as he emerges out the back door onto the porch, a laugh spilling past his lips as he surveys the myriad bits of metal and broken plastic strewn around him. Looks like he’s found his EMF meter. Apparently his ghost wasn’t nearly as endeared to this technology as he was anything with a screen. He glances up to the master bedroom window over his head, shading his eyes from the sun.

“Fair enough,” he calls, still fighting down amusement despite himself, and there’s the faintest shimmer in the air above the balcony, reminiscent of a heat mirage despite the cool morning air. “No more screeching little boxes.”

Left with zero information about his ghost’s identity, a useless Ouija board better repurposed as a doorstop, and the remains of his one piece of official ghost-hunting equipment, Remus concludes his only option is to embark on Plan D. Said plan isn’t so much an strategic approach as it is a wild hail mary to find any way to communicate with his ghost that didn’t involved hurling objects from balconies, as much fun as such an activity was, but then again, Plan D did sound delightfully dirty, so he’ll take the trade-off.

The internet, of course, is the place to turn to for highly questionable ghost advice, and it only takes a single google search to find message boards teeming with it. Half of it is clearly bullshit, he quickly discovers as he trawls through post after useless post, and the other half is baseless theories without any semblance of evidence to back them up, but just as he’s about to call it quits and move on to whatever the hell Plan E is, an old thread catches his eye.

‘Old Ghost Caught By Photography?’ the title reads, and Remus skims through the post, intrigued despite himself at the detailed claims the author had been able to capture the image of a Victorian spirit by using an antique camera and photography methods from the end of the nineteenth century. He pores over the attached images, searching for the slightest hint of photoshop or manipulation, but everything seems legit. And it made sense in some weird, probably illogical way, he supposes, that ghosts might only be spotted by using technology from their day and age—historical continuity in the metaphysical realm or some shit.

It’s the best lead he has after hours of searching, and really, he’s just spent a very hefty chunk of change buying a whole-ass house; what was the harm in dropping a few more dollars on some vintage photography equipment?

Which is precisely how he finds himself crammed into his makeshift darkroom in the tiny closet under the stairs several weeks later, holding his breath as he carefully begins to look through the latest batch of negatives he’s just finished processing. It had taken an obscene amount of research, a healthy dose of trial-and-error, and more than a few failures to figure out the intricacies of the dry plate photography process, but he’d gotten there in the end, even if the most he has to show for it is a few suspicious blurs in a couple of images.

Maybe this whole idea of capturing ghosts in photos was just as bullshit as the others, he muses as he examines yet another empty picture of the dining room, or maybe his ghost wasn’t from the same era as the camera he’d bought. Maybe his ghost simply didn’t want to have his photo taken, or maybe—

His train of thought abruptly derails as he picks up the next plate.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

The image is still a negative, the reversed colors lending a certain eeriness to the picture under the red darkroom lights, but there, right smack in the middle of the photo—a figure. An actual human figure, clear as day, looking right at the camera. Remus whoops, nearly knocking over a vial of chemicals with his elbow as he dances backwards in pure giddiness. Oh fuck yes , there is a ghost haunting the place. His ghost, now that he owns the house. His ghost who is…

He pauses, forcing himself to focus on the figure in the photo even as he feels like he’s about to vibrate right off of his bones with excitement. Spectacles, clean-shaven, dark hair neatly styled. Neat trousers, white shirt, trim waistcoat, and a decidedly fancy ascot, the whole ensemble distinctly old-fashioned. Victorian, then? Or Edwardian? Or some historical reenactor who’d met an untimely demise in costume? And it does seem to be an untimely demise; the man looks to be in his mid- to late-twenties, unless he’d found some ability to look whatever age he wanted in the afterlife.

Regardless, he can’t make himself focus on fashion for long. He has a ghost to talk to. Fighting his way out of the cramped closet, he bounds up the stairs, forcing himself to slow to a respectable jog as he darts into the master bedroom. He stops in the middle of the still-bare room, trying and utterly failing to keep his hopes in check.

“Hello? Ghostie?”

No response.

“Mr. Glasses and White Shirt?”

His skin prickles, the hair on the back of his neck raising. Aha. There he was.

“Hey, what’s up?” He turns in a slow circle, searching for any sign of his specter, any flicker of light off a spectacle lens or a flash of a shirtsleeve, but the room is as empty as ever.

“I have a photo if you’d like to see it.” Could ghosts not see themselves in mirrors or was that only vampire lore? And if he couldn’t see his own reflection, did the ghost even remember what he looked like?

He raises the picture, proferring the negative to the vacant room, and holds his breath. Nothing, for several long moments, and then the chill edges closer. Remus bites his lip, barely able to keep himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of a ghost being within arm’s reach.

“I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything, I just wanted to see if you were real or if I needed to go check myself into a padded room, you know? I’m Remus, if I haven’t said that. What’s your name?”

Several more excruciatingly long moments that Remus is sure has to be the longest span of silence in history, then—

“Hello.”

The voice is thin and slightly hoarse, quiet enough that Remus has to strain to make it out, but it’s as unmistakably real as the form that flickers into existence right in front of his eyes, identical to the man in the photo. He’s distinctly transparent, the edges of him not quite defined, fuzzing out around the edges like the ambient glow of neon signs, but he’s here and he’s real and this is so fucking cool that Remus could keel over right here and now from excitement and join the ghost in wandering around the house for all eternity.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, because if there was ever a time for swearing, by god this is fucking it, and the spirit withdraws slightly, already guarded expression closing in further. “No no no, it’s good,” he rushes to assure him, resisting the urge to reach out and try to touch him. “Good holy shit. Complimentary holy shit.”

The ghost doesn’t seem entirely appeased, but he tilts his head slightly, something like curiosity sparking in his eyes as he evaluates Remus.

“Why are you not frightened of me?” he finally asks, and Remus has to fight back the absurd laugh bubbling up in his chest. He’s being questioned by a century-old ghost in the middle of his haunted home. Life really was delightfully freaky.

“No offense, man, but you’re not exactly terrifying. I mean, I’ve been here what? A solid month? And you haven’t even tried to pluck my eyeballs out or anything.”

Another unreadable pause. Is he just giving the spirit ideas? Were his eyes about to be forcibly unmarried from his skull à la eagles tearing out Prometheus’ liver?

“Do you want me to be afraid of you?” he asks after a further absolutely unbearable five seconds of silence.

“No,” the ghost admits after a moment of clear hesitation, “but previous residents certainly have not appreciated my presence here.”

Remus scoffs. “That’s their problem. Some of us are smarter than that.”

The other man’s head tilt deepens, something akin to puzzlement furrowing his brow, as if he can’t fathom why having a ghost is actually the most badass shit on the face of the planet.

“Can I ask you some questions?” Remus asks, exhilaration still racing along the underside of his skin so intensely that he can barely stand it. “You can ask me whatever you want, too.”

The ghost nods, although he still seems cautious as one hand fiddles absently with his ascot. “I suppose that would be alright.”

Twenty questions with an undead spirit. Remus’ life really was getting better by the minute.

“Did you used to live here?”

“I did, many years ago.”

“Did you own the place?”

“At one point in time, yes. It was truly a beautiful house in its day, and a wonderful place to reside.”

Oh fuck yes. If having an old-timey ghost who can give him historically accurate advice about restoring the house isn’t the coolest fucking thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t sure what is. He has half a mind to start grilling him on paint colors and wallpaper prints and the original hardwood, but—

“Did you die here?”

The words are blurting out of his mouth without even bothering to detour through his brain on the way out, burning curiosity eclipsing any thought that perhaps asking about death isn’t exactly acceptable ghost etiquette. He barely has time to register the change in the spirit’s expression, the visceral upset written across his features clear as day, before he’s gone in between one breath and the next, vanishing back into whatever thin air he’d come from and leaving nothing but a biting chill in his wake.

Shit shit shit. He’s finally gotten the ghost to trust him enough to show up and talk and then he’s gone and ruined it within the span of two minutes all because he had all the self-control of a sieve trying to retain water.

“Wait,” he calls, casting about in vain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Well, apparently his subconscious had, but that hadn’t been his intention. “Please come back. You can ask me as many invasive questions as you like.” Nothing. “You can haunt me for revenge, if you want.” Utter silence. “Are you gonna hurl me off the balcony like my EMF meter?”

There he goes again, giving the specter ideas, although really, being yeeted out of a window by a ghost would be a damn cool end if he does say so himself. He lingers in the room for several long minutes, forcing himself to keep quiet lest he miss the spirit’s hushed voice, but there’s nothing but the faint sound of a bird twittering outside.

“Alright,” he finally relents, disappointment pooling in his stomach as he glances down at the photography plate still in his hand, the negative serving as indisputable evidence that the encounter hadn’t just been a fever dream. He’ll find a way to make things right with the ghost somehow, one way or another. He has to. “Just come spook me if you change your mind.”

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!): @darth-does-stuff

#thomas sanders sides big bang 2023 #tssbb2023 #sanders sides #ts remus #remus sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #intrulogical #loceit #ts fanfic #the art of saying goodbye #my fic #rosepetal writes

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pencilpat · 7 months

Text

Sanders Sides: College AU - Part 4

Character sheets | Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Despite starting out with future dukeceit, this is primarily logince content lol. Logan is a transfem nonbinary person and Janus is transfem in this AU.

Janus considers the strings she's laid while Remus sits by, uncharacteristically anxious. Roman and Logan go on their first date as a queerplatonic couple, and while Roman's lavish lifestyle rubs her a bit wrong, Roman himself has undoubtedly charmed her.

5,096 words

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Not unlike any morning before, Janus wakes up with a hangover. Thank god it’s the weekend, and a day she doesn’t have to work, because she thinks if she had to function as a human being she would push someone down a flight of stairs if she felt frisky enough. She tries to push herself up, but her arms shake and give out the moment she tries to put her weight on them. She groans, rolling her eyes at her own body. Opting to force herself to roll over onto her back and sit up that way, she notices about half way through the upward struggle that her apartment smells like food. Successfully upright, she stares at the door, the concept of Remus cooking for her making her, oddly, slightly angry at him. She knows it’s irrational and sighs at herself, throwing a grey sweater over her old t-shirt and pyjama pants as she makes her way out. Her apartment’s shitty heating is starting to not be enough for the colder weather.

The sound of sizzling is filling her kitchen, and she leans on the outer side of the island, staring at Remus at the stove in the corner facing away from her. Janus clears her throat dramatically against a hovering fist. Remus spins around with his tongue poking out, wide eyes looking at her like she caught him committing a crime.

“Oh, Janus! Um. Hi!”

“Hello.”

“I’m making food!”

“I can smell that.”

Remus pauses, scratching his calf with his foot. “Uh. Want some?”

“Depends. What are you making? And how dirty was the pavement you seemingly picked this food up off of?”

Remus laughs, a weirdly soft, genuine sounding one for him. “Oh c’mon, you know I went to the store, I’m not that crazy!”

“You’re not crazy,” she immediately corrects him in somewhat of a snap. Remus straightens up slightly at her tone, blinking rapidly, one of her spatulas hanging from his hand. Janus catches herself, sighing. “Just- Don’t talk to yourself like your mom did, okay? Anyway. What are you making?”

“Uh, just pancakes ‘n eggs. I figured you would get mad if I spent money on meat for you, so, I just got quick mix batter and a cheap thing of eggs!” Remus is scratching his calf again, not making anything close to eye contact even though he’s smiling. Janus feels cold in her chest, seeing him seemingly anxious over the potential of hurting her feelings.

“Eggs sound great, Remus. How did you remember I enjoy those?” she says, keeping her voice light and playful. Remus perks up slightly, seeming less downtrodden.

“Dunno! Maybe I’m magic,” he shrugs, grinning and turning around to flip a pancake.

“How are you good at cooking and I’m not?” Janus teases, leaning more of her weight on the counter as her weakness seems to feel more poignant suddenly. Remus doesn’t turn around for a moment, before flipping the final of five pancakes onto one of her plates. He ends up not answering at all, seemingly distracted by the food. Janus doesn’t have a kitchen table, so Remus carries the plates over onto the pullout couch, setting the eggs and syrup bottle next to it. He walks up to Janus and begins touching her and she swats at him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh- Sorry! I was gonna help you to the bed!”

“Remus, it’s like three footsteps, I’m fine.”

“But you’re sweating,” he pouts. Janus rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the counter, stumbling around and sitting on the bed.

“There, see? Shockingly, I’m not helpless.”

Remus chuckles, yet again weirdly soft sounding for him, and sits across from her, grabbing up two pancakes, sandwiching eggs in the middle, and eating it like a sandwich. Janus snorts, then covers her mouth slightly, clearing her throat. His ridiculousness can be genuinely entertaining, whether she likes it or not. She picks up one of the forks he brought over and skewers some eggs. As she tastes it, she realizes he bought cheese and spices too, and along with the eggs she swallows guilt at being so aggressive to him last night.

“So, where were you at last night?” Remus speaks through a mouthful of food.

“Just out.”

“I don’t know any of the bars on this side of town. Seems like they’ve got good stuff!”

Janus cringes. “Uh, yeah, sure. I don’t know.” She stabs more eggs, and her mind drifts to the hazy memories from Blacklight Mamba. She bites down on the eggs hard, the feeling of seeing that stupid purple patched hoodie from across the bar fresh in her chest. Virgil seemingly having such a sweet, innocent little partner makes her feel ill. Jealousy or anger or worry over the partner? Who’s to say. “How have the rest of our old pals been, Remus?”

Remus stops chewing with the look of someone caught in the middle of two fighting lions. “Why d’ you ask? I figured you would want me to mention them as little as possible,” he laughs.

Janus picks at her nails. “Indulge my curiosity, why don’t you.”

“Erm,” Remus swallows hard. “Well, I got cut off from our parents and about the same time Roman got accepted to the same college as Virgil. Our parents gave him a huge old house with a bunch of rooms and they pay for it and give him an allowance! Can you even? Anyway, Virgil lives there with his partner, Patton, and I was living there in secret for a while under our parent’s noses,” he rambles on. “But then Patton decided to be a dick about me liking weed, and they screamed at me like I was a fucking kid or something, told me I had to move out, else I was being kicked out. And yeah, then I texted you. Now I’m here.”

Janus tries to eat her pancake casually, reassessing her thoughts on this Patton character. “Seems like an interesting turn of events. As co-dependent as you and Roman always were I’m shocked he let you be-“

Remus swats at her hair, startling her into stopping. “We were not co-dependent, what?! Come on, man, we just care about each other like any twins would.”

“Roman literally used to sleep in your bed when you first started hallucinating,” she offers up, deadpan.

Remus makes a warbling, gasping sound, gesticulating at her like she just implied the sky is red. “He was just taking care of me! I mean, no one else was.”

“If you feel that way,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. Janus cuts away a bite of pancake with the edge of her fork, a bit too violently. Patton definitely didn’t know who she was, and that is for the better. She smirks around the bite of food as she imagines Virgil seeing her high school contact name in his partner’s phone. That ought to be fun.

“What you smiling about?” Remus says, eating his third pancake yet again like it’s a sandwich. She notices him leaving most of the eggs for her, glancing up to meet his eyes.

“Just thinking, is all.”

“Penny for ‘em?”

“Remus, no one carries cash anymore, I know for a fact you don’t have a penny.”

To her surprise, he fishes in his cargo pants’ pocket with a big smile. A dime comes out rather than a penny, and he scowls at it. “Guess you owe me ten of your thoughts now, madame!”

Janus rolls her eyes. “I was just thinking about how much my head hurts, you doofus.” Remus squints at her, knowing instantly that Janus isn’t being honest. He decides to just let it go though, and flicks the dime at her. She catches it out of the air, winking at him as she spins it between her fingers.

“Guessing that’s the most money you’d let me give you directly,” Remus snickers.

Janus frowns at him. “Forgive me for not wanting handouts from a former trust fund baby.”

Remus throws his hands up defensively. “I’m not a trust fund baby anymore though! I’m just your regular civilian with a hardworking job.”

“Tattooing is not exactly an example of the typical civilian job. Try fast food for even a week. You’d crumble into pieces in a day.”

Remus gesticulates towards her, pursing his lips with an expression of conceding agreement. He pops the last bite of his pancake into his mouth, then splays himself backwards on the end half of the pullout bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe Janus will be honest with him one day. If he keeps treating her nicely, she might remember what it was like to trust a friend. He peeks at her eating her final pancake, seemingly as at peace as she can get as she eats something he made just for her. It’s a nice sight, and he can’t help a slight smile and light blush dusting his face. Maybe one day, maybe one day.

Monday afternoon, wind tosses leaves about as Roman stares hard at his phone, his entire face creased with a mix of emotions. He messaged his twin two days ago to tell him about his new partner. Remus is always excited for him and his romantic conquests, no matter how short and spontaneous they’ve been in the past. Yet, it has gone unreplied to, not even opened seemingly, as it doesn’t read as ‘seen’ either. He sets his eyes in his hand, leaning over himself on some random park bench while he waits for the others to finish their classes. Did he really mess up that badly by asking him to move?

He reopens his phone, checking again uselessly, in case he missed something somehow. Knowing that Remus is with Janus, too, has been making him wake up in nervous sweats. There’s a taste of intentional betrayal, in choosing to stay with her specifically, but Roman isn’t sure if Remus is smart enough to take things like that into consideration. His foot is tapping so hard it’s echoing slightly in the empty courtyard. Am I really that shit of a brother? he thinks to himself miserably. He pulls his red jacket tighter over himself like it has the magical abilities to hide insecurities too.

The faint sound of the bell inside the building closest to him sounds the toll that sends herds of students out to change classes or head home. He spots the others crossing the yard in a little group. As they move closer Roman sees Patton is holding a very grumpy seeming Logan’s hand, and Virgil is pink from laughter.

“Now, what happened here? Are we swapping or something?” Roman puts his hand on his hip, smiling. Virgil immediately begins laughing into his hand again, and Patton also giggles.

“I was holding Virgil’s hand, and Logan accused us of showing off,” Patton faux whines, swinging their hands as Logan stares directly at the ground with a red face. “So, I told her her hand was just lonely, and I helped it out!”

Logan sighs, very loudly. “Patton, it is a hand, it cannot get lonely. May I be free now?”

“Well, considering there’s a new friend for your hand…” Patton drags Logan’s hand over and places it into Roman’s which makes both flush instantly. “I can let you go!”

“Patton, please,” Roman scolds, letting go of her hand and covering his face as he turns around to face away from them all dramatically. Virgil loses it, laughing hard into his hand and doubling over. Logan seems to be attempting to tune out entirely, her eyes being closed and her fists gently clenched with sheer embarrassment.

“That aside,” she speaks up, a little too loudly. “Roman, we have places to be. Patton was taking your car home, and I’m driving us, right?”

Roman breathes in deeply and turns around to face the group again. “Actually, Lo, we don’t need to take your car – I made arrangements.” Roman practically purrs the last word, smiling to himself proudly.

“Arrangements?”

“Since I’m taking you to a very nice place, I got a limo. I wanted to give you a true experience.”

Logan doesn’t look as pleased as Roman thought she would, just adjusting her glasses with a slight frown. “I don’t see the purpose. My car is perfectly functional. It feels very showy.”

“Showy is the point, dear Lo! We’re going somewhere er… more my family’s taste, if you know what I mean.” Roman watches her frown not change, internally panicking a bit. “I just… wanted to treat you to something really nice, for my turn paying. You deserve nice things.” He holds her hand, meeting her eyes nervously. She looks back at him, and her face melts slightly, the frown turning into a more playful, soft one.

“Alright, Roman. I understand you want to make it special, as the first one. Just do not spend recklessly like this for any of the other dates.”

Patton and Virgil depart to find Roman’s car in the student parking lot, and Logan follows behind Roman as he walks towards the front of campus to meet the waiting car. Behind him she rolls her eyes at the exuberantly glimmering white limo, being gawked at by students as they leave for the day. Logan attempts to cover her identity with her hand as the driver exits and opens the door. Roman pats the man’s shoulder and when his hand moves away Logan sees he’s wordlessly left a bill in the man’s pocket. She tries not to feel sour about that, pausing and muttering “thank you,” to the man, who smiles at her.

The inside of the car is purple, both in lighting and seat color. Logan flips her skirt under her as she sits. Roman is already reaching into a miniature fridge and pulling out travel size bottles of wine. Logan makes an uncomfortable noise before she can help it, and Roman looks over at her. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t drink. At all.”

“Why not?” Roman asks, casual.

Logan’s shoulders tense, and she shifts slightly in place. “I have bad experiences with it.”

“Oh,” Roman says, glancing at the bottles. “Well, then I shan’t leave you sober alone!” The bottles are popped right back in the fridge, and he slams the door shut with a resolute grin. Logan blinks rapidly for a moment, her brain seeming to calculate him in a different manner than before.

“Thank you, Roman. What restaurant will we be going to? I was wondering this morning why you were in such fanciful clothing.” She regards his ironed black button up and dark red suit, accompanied by lavish yet simple jewelry. She thanks the stars that all her clothing is rather nice and professional, tugging at her tie to tighten it.

“It’s a hibachi bar!”

“That is not as fancy as I had thought.”

“Oh, Lo, that’s cute. This place is… There will pretty much only be other bigheaded suits at the other tables having business meetings about major companies.”

“Hm. Unpleasant.”

“Er- Yes, but,” Roman reaches across and takes her hand into his black gloves, smiling at her with shining eyes. “We only need focus on you and I, at our own table.” He pauses for a moment. “Plus, the amount of food you get here will leave enough for you to portion for a week at least,” Roman tantalizes.

Logan cracks a smile, rolling her eyes just slightly. “Ah, I see you are using my love of pre-planned meals against me.”

“I need some kind of ammunition to get you to let me spoil you!”

Even his hyping up of the fanciness of the restaurant was underselling it. There is an entrance hall where a man in a suit offers to take their coats, to which both decline. The red carpet is lush and well-cleaned, and the walls are black marble with carved pillars stretching to the high ceiling. The man pushes open the black wooden doors and gestures for them to follow. Logan feels frozen, hesitating in the hall. Roman’s hand suddenly touches hers.

“Are you alright?” he murmurs gently against her ear. She turns to look at him, seeing his lightly worried face.

“I don’t- I don’t know if I’m right for a place like this.”

Roman stands in front of her with a wave to the host to hold on. He brushes at the cowlick in her hair, tucking it behind her ear. He adjusts her glasses with a hum, pats at her vest and tie. “I think you look splendid. I’d be shocked if someone doesn’t mistake you for royalty,” he mutters, smiling at her sweetly. Logan’s face turns pink, and she looks at the floor.

“If you’re certain.”

The host leads them in, and Logan takes in several black hibachi grills spread around a large open space. There are private non-grill tables behind partitions painted lavishly with birds of paradise. Roman leads her along. She can’t help noticing that everyone at the grills is dressed in similarly lowkey designer clothes like Roman. The ‘old money’ look and air about them puts her off entirely, making her stance awkward and stiff. Roman’s hand holding hers grounds her though, even as they pass a table and someone mutters about ‘the Carmona’s boy.’ She watches Roman suddenly stand with even better posture and puff himself up.

“They must know my father,” he whispers to her as they’re sat down with menus. “Or my mother. I get recognized sometimes because of, erm…” Roman gestures to the marks of his piebaldism with a scowl. “Stands out a bit among the menagerie.” He does a flowing gesture with his hands and rolls his eyes.

Logan hums quietly in thought. Roman sits half turned in his seat in order to look only at her. “I already know the menu, why don’t you take a look, hm?” Logan nods, and opens the menu. And dear god. Prices in the 100s hit her in the face like a truck. She glances around the laminated page, desperate to find anything at a reasonable price. Roman’s hand appears in her view, and then draws her chin up to have her look at him.

“Price doesn’t matter, don’t fret so much,” he soothes. “I know it seems like a lot, but look how much food comes with it.” He points to the cheapest thing available, shrimp fried rice. Logan reads it shakily, and sees that it comes with a noodle dish, rice, shrimp, vegetables, soup, and a dessert of which there two courses. She bites her lip, considering. It is a lot of food, at $59.00. That will do, she supposes.

A young male waiter greets them politely, and Roman orders the fried rice dish with chicken instead, as well as a teriyaki steak. Logan tries not to get dizzy at the price of that one. She orders the fried rice somewhat timidly. Logan thanks the waiter pointedly, to which Roman also thanks him, finally giving even a hint that he appreciates the workers around him.

The waiter leaves, and they chat idly until he returns with a tray and two bowls of soup.

“Chirirenge,” Roman flounces, holding up the spoon that comes with the dish.

“Pardon?”

“Asian soup spoon! It’s called a chirirenge.”

“Ah, you’re right, they are. Something about looking like a lotus petal? I’m not one for metaphors. To me it just means it holds more soup. You know Japanese?”

“Ehh. I’m nowhere near fluent anymore, so don’t expect me to speak any. I learned several languages as a little kid, from a tutor.”

“Fascinating. Do you remember much of any of them?”

“Yo hablo algo de español,” he says, titling his hand from side to side to imply how iffy his knowledge is. “My mom travels in South America often; she’s starred in quite a few smaller movies over there.”

“Yo también hablo español,” Logan says, happily surprised. “I’ve always wanted to travel there, some day. The landscape is beautiful…”

Roman gasps, touching her hand. “I have to take you some time! Wouldn’t a trip be fabulous?”

Logan hesitates, cringing. “I’d prefer to work to a place in my life where I could pay for it myself.”

“Oh,” Roman says, quieting. He puffs up, and squeezes her hand. “Well, when that day comes, I hope I’ll still be here to go with you and show you my favorite towns.”

“Thank you, Roman.” Logan nods and smiles at him, appreciating the effort to act like he’s not rich, even if for a moment. She turns and begins tasting the broth soup. It’s incredibly good, to her surprise, and she lets out a noise of enjoyment, taking many more bites. Roman is smiling at her as he watches her enjoy herself openly, when he feels the hair on his neck prickling.

Lo notices Roman glance over his shoulder at that table from before. “Old hag staring alert,” he snickers, sitting up straighter. “God forbid an actor’s child exist in a public space. I swear if she calls paparazzi of any kind, ugh.”

“Your mother is famous enough for that?”

“Eh, it depends on if she was in any films recently, she’s more of a star in some cult classics and smaller films. Usually I don’t even get noticed, but this woman must be a fan,” he says, sounding sick on that last word. Logan glances too, and sees an older woman staring at Roman’s back hungrily, tense in her seat. She turns away quickly, feeling a bit disturbed.

“I always thought of fans as a pleasant part of being famous.” She notices how uncomfortable Roman looks, and lifts her hand, hovering in the air hesitantly for a moment before she rests it on his gloves. “Don’t let it ruin our fun, Roman. I’m sure it will be okay.” Roman smiles at her thankfully.

Both were too distracted to notice the chef and his cart pulling up to their table, and he clears his throat to get their attention. They both turn to face him, and he laughs, then begins lighting the grill up. Logan jumps when he starts sharpening knives against each other, and Roman giggles at her. The chef pours oil onto the grill and it sizzles loudly. He tosses vegetables on and begins chopping them up, eventually moving them into a pile.

“Lean back,” Roman warns, and Logan almost doesn’t have time to do so before a burst of flame lights up in the oil from the controlled blowtorch the chef wields. Logan reels back; she grabs and adjusts her glasses a tad frantically as both Roman and the chef laugh at her reaction. “It’s her first time!” Roman offers heartily. The chef chuckles and winks at him.

He stirs around vegetables a bit more, and then scoops a tiny piece of zucchini onto the blade, nodding to Roman. Roman nods back excitedly, and Logan watches in confusion as he holds his mouth open. The chef tosses the bit of food across the table, and Roman catches it in his mouth, laughing. By the time Logan looks back the chef is looking at her with a piece ready. She nods, hesitantly holding her lips apart. Not apart enough, as the piece hits her lip and falls, she fumbles but catches it in her hand, holding it up to show she saved it. The chef and Roman both laugh and start clapping for her as she sheepishly pops the tidbit in her mouth.

The veggies get pushed to the side to cook, and the chef pours more sparkling oil onto the grill. Logan watches in fascination as he puts some long, flat noodles on, douses them in two different sauces, and then stirs them around and around on the grill, before depositing them to the side to cook.

He walks around and sets two large plates beside their soup bowls, winking at Logan. “Enjoying your first, miss?”

“Yes,” she admits, glancing at Roman. “I am.”

The chef, behind the grill again, shovels heaps of vegetables on each of their plates. Logan adjusts her glasses, a bit wide-eyed at the sheer amount of food. And there’s more to come? Perhaps Roman wasn’t joking about having weeks’ worth of leftovers. She unwraps chopsticks and a fork from the pre-laid place-setter napkins and uses the chopsticks to bring a piece of broccoli to her mouth. It’s delicious, falling apart under her teeth, soft and fried perfectly. Roman chuckles beside her.

“Does it taste good?” he asks in a somewhat dreamy voice.

Logan clears her throat, her face pink. “Ah, yes. Apologies, was I..?”

“Wide eyed and shining like a star with joy? Yes, Logan, you were.”

Logan looks away and back to her food. “I just- I don’t quite know what to do. This is just the vegetables?”

“Well, yeah!” Roman nods to the chef, who is scooping piles of the long noodles onto the plates with the other heap of food. “It’s only the second course too, he hasn’t even started the rice.”

Logan breathes out slowly. She begins eating again, trying to make her way through at least enough to give the poor chef room when he finishes the sizzling pile of rice he’s tossing around. The noodles are one of the best pieces of food she has had in her entire life, she can’t imagine how good rice and meat will be. He’s cooking her dish first, chopping shrimp into pieces and mixing them into half the pile of rice. He douses it in more oil, and sauce, making the grill sizzle loudly. Logan watches him stirring it around with an amazed face, and Roman can only seem to look at her face. He’s never seen her make such big expressions before, and she’s very pretty when she is showing emotion, in his opinion.

Logan has only eaten about one third of the noodles and half of the vegetables when the rice is dumped onto her plate. She tastes it, and accidentally lets out an innocent moan at how good it tastes. Roman covers his mouth to mask a huge, loving grin. Though they’re queerplatonic, sometimes Roman’s aesthetic and alterous attraction overlap in a way that makes him understand what being romantically in love with her would feel like. He tries to focus on his food, but she’s just… radiant.

Logan catches him staring, glancing over to him. “Are you alright, Roman?”

“Hm? Oh- Yes, quite! You’re just such a distraction, Lo.”

Logan lets a short, nervous laugh out, smiling like a cartoon character that was just kissed. “Roman, please settle down.” She pushes up her glasses on her nose.

“I do mean it though,” he sighs. “I wasn’t lying when I said you could be mistaken for royalty. Whether night or day, you’re the heavens at play,” he says, touching his chest and raising an arm like a prince delivering a sonnet.

“Hm, is the couplet an attempt to woo me?”

“But of course,” he winks. A waiter clears their throat, and Roman politely moves his plate to the side so his steak dish can be set down. He pokes at it with his fork, then turns to Logan. “Want to try it?” Logan nods, and begins reaching over with her own fork. Roman shakes his head, raising his up with a bite of meat on it. “Lean over here, pretty.”

Logan’s face goes pink, and she rolls her eyes, but she leans over and lets him place a bite in her mouth tenderly. His gloves stroke her chin softly as he pulls away. She pulls back, setting a fist against her mouth as she chews. “It’s very good.”

“I know, right? This place’s food is just divine.”

Logan takes in Roman’s lovesick face, his slightly crooked grin and glimmering green eyes, filled with emotion that is all caused by her. She breaks eye contact, looking back to her food, trying to contain a dorky smile as she digs through the feast she’s been gifted.

Roman insisted on her letting the driver take her four to-go boxes worth of food as they got back in the car. They sit on the same side this time, Logan leaning slightly into the crook of Roman’s neck. Despite being taller, she has realized she enjoys feeling cradled, especially after so much stimulation. Roman had set his suit jacket around her shoulders, and she holds it tight around herself, dazed and dizzy with emotion. She’s mostly lost talking ability after such a big event, but Roman simply lets her rest in silence, rubbing his hand over her hair. It’s the first time he’s ever seen her hair down, and he can see that it’s slightly curly, falling in black waves just over her shoulders.

Logan lets out a tired sigh, watching street lights pass by. They’ve come back to the school after dark for her to retrieve her car, though driving might be an issue, she realizes faintly. But, to her surprise, Roman also exits the limo, handing a few more bills to the driver as he goes.

“What?” she asks simply.

“I’m going to drive you to your place. I know you have a sofa I can stay on, just for tonight. We can get to class together,” he steps towards her, tucking her cowlick behind her ear again. “You can make sure I actually get there on time for once.”

Logan hesitates, only for a moment, but concedes with a nod, swaying slightly on her feet. Roman drives them, and helps her get up the stairs to her part of the housing unit. The welcoming arms of her dark bedroom feels like being cradled too, and Logan barely even takes off her tie properly before laying down. She sees Roman’s shadow about to leave, and calls to him. “Roman, wait- Can you- could you sleep here? With me?”

Roman’s figure pauses in the doorway, and she can’t see the massive smile cross his face as he melts. He comes back over to her bed, and lays down across from her, squished together on a twin bed. He tries to give her space still, but their faces are there together, looking at each other’s shadowy forms.

“I think I like you. A lot.” Roman confesses it quietly. Logan hums, and crosses the gap, resting her head on his chest.

“You’re pretty nice as well,” she mutters softly.

They drift to sleep with full stomachs, and full hearts as well for that matter.

#college au #sanders sides #logince #dukeceit #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #tss au #sanders sides au #sanders sides fic #tss fic #tss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction

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casart · 1 year

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hey !! i just found your blog a little bit ago and i absolutely love all your art !!! especially the spirit complex au !!!! it's such an interesting and fun idea (despite all the angst involved-)

just a quick question i had after scrolling through the au tag - did you ever draw up character sheets (or something similar) for remy and / or picani in the au ? bc i didn't see one while scrolling through the tag but im on mobile and sometimes tumblr is weird with tags lolol

hope you're having a good day / night !!! and once again, all of your art is so beautiful <33

Hello! Sorry it took me a couple days to answer but I really do appreciate your message! I really would like to continue spirit complex and am currently working out the next part ^_^ I never did draw up specific character sheets for Remy and Emile but I have this drawing here that is generally how they appear in my canon Remy is Virgil's older brother; very supportive and caring despite his tough-guy appearance. He's trans in my story, and has tattoos of suns, moons and stars all over his body. He worked full-time as a store manager, constantly drinking coffee, and thus suffered from insomnia

Emile owns the building. The building has been passed to many ppl over the years until the Picanis purchased it. I've really only mentioned it in a few posts but Emile was fortunate enough to have met Janus and Logan. He had also met Virgil but was more acquainted w Remy when they still lived there. Emile was actually the one to find Logan

#cas answers #spirit complex au #gotta revive this au which is ironic coz it's all about death lmao

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 2 years

Text

it seemed the better way - chapter 5

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Janus, Romulus, Patton, Logan, c!Thomas mentions Rating: General audiences Relationships: Platonic everyone Warnings: Imaginary animal death (dinosaurs, non-realistic and non-detailed) Word count: 2734 Note: Ty to @anxious-logic for betaing!!

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

start - previous - here - next - masterpost

–

Chapter 5

“Okay, class!” Thomas’s teacher clapped her hands. “Next week, we’re going to do an art project!”

Romulus perked up at once. “Art?” He nudged Thomas to full attention.

The teacher began passing out sheets of paper. “I want each of you to pick something we’ve learned about lately—something off this list,” she went on. “And you’re going to make some art about it. So I want you to take your list home, pick one topic off of it, and spend your weekend thinking about ideas for your art piece. And we’ll talk about it again on Monday, okay? I can’t wait to hear your ideas!”

By the time Dad had picked Thomas up from school and they were on the way home, Romulus was practically bouncing off the walls of the car with excitement; all his attention was absorbed by the idea of a new project. Thomas could mostly read by now, but still dragged Dad to the kitchen table the minute they got in the door and got him to read the whole list aloud; it covered a lot of science topics that Thomas had learned about over the last few months.

“Rocks!” Romulus declared at the top of his lungs, seizing Janus’s gloved hands and dragging him down into the Mindscape. “Let’s do art about rocks!”

“Geological classification,” Logan clarified, poking his head out from his room.

“Yeah, that!” Romulus zoomed to his own door, flinging it open and transforming the empty space inside into a treasure trove of big rock formations that would be easy to climb on, with piles of smaller shiny rocks all over the ground. A table stood in the middle, covered in art supplies. “C’mon, everyone!” he called.

Janus found himself a corner, boxed in by big tall rocks on two sides, and began picking about the edges of the space Romulus had created, scooping up rocks that caught his eye and placing them in a bucket (conjuring up things in Romulus’s room was especially easy; Janus was even able to keep the bucket from getting heavy, no matter how much he put in it). When he’d collected enough rocks to suit his fancy, he made his way back to the corner. He sat down criss-cross-applesauce and began pulling out the rocks he’d collected, lining them up in neat rows by size and color and how shiny they were. When he’d sorted and re-sorted them a few times, he tried stacking them up, seeing how tall he could stack without toppling them. (He could get four easily, but anything more than that was challenging.)

Janus was so engrossed in his sorting that the sudden sound of raised voices was painfully jarring. His hands rose to his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut. When the voices didn’t stop, he drew several deep breaths, uncovered his ears, and stood up. “What’s going on?”

“Patton isn’t letting me—”

“Romulus won’t listen—”

“They are bickering,” Logan said loudly. “When they could be helping me make the rocks more accurate to real life.” He shot Romulus a pointed glare.

“Real life is boring and my rocks are better and fossils are cool and Patton is wrong!” Romulus blurted out all in one breath.

”No—no, will you just listen, we’re supposed to compromise—” Patton protested.

“Stop arguing!” Logan said, holding both hands up in the air and speaking with an air of authority.

There was silence for a beat.

“Thank you,” Logan said. “Romulus.”

“Yeah?”

Logan held out his hands. “Is this supposed to be granite or quartz?”

“What? No. ’S just a rock.” Romulus shrugged.

Logan flung his hands in the air. “That is not how rocks work!”

“It’s how my room works!” Romulus retorted. “Anyway, Janus, tell Patton he’s wrong!”

“You’re wrong,” Janus said to Patton at once, but he said it in a teasing voice just in case he’d need to take it back once he found out what they were actually arguing about.

“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” Patton asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” Janus lied. “But tell me anyway.”

“Take turns,” Logan said from the ground, where he was now on his hands and knees, doing something with the rock that was neither granite nor quartz. “Romulus first.”

“Okay okay okay so.” Romulus climbed onto the table and put his hands on his hips. “So we’re making art about rocks. Planning it for Thomas. Right?”

“Sure,” Janus said, picking up a few smooth round pebbles and hefting them in his palms.

“Right. So I thought, rocks are kind of boring all by themselves, but. But but but! You know what goes in rocks?”

Janus considered this, vaguely pulling at memories of Thomas in class. “Lava?”

“No. I mean yeah. But I’m talking about fossils!” Romulus spread his arms wide. “Which are cool! Cause they’re made of dead dinos! And they go in rocks, so we could put them in the art. And show how they get made of dead dinos. And Patton is being stinky and thinks my idea is bad.” He rolled his eyes expressively and waited, evidently having said his piece.

“I didn’t say that!” Patton protested.

“You basically did!” Romulus crossed his arms.

“Falsehood,” Logan put in. “That is just how it made you feel. He never said ‘bad.’ Let him talk now.”

“Fine.” Romulus plopped down to sit on the table, arms still crossed.

“I just—I think it might maybe be better to not make it, um, super gross and scary?” Patton twisted his hands together. “Like, with lots of dead dinosaurs and things. Like maybe we could just make the pretty fossils, and not the sad part. Um—I just think it would cause less conflict, maybe.”

Romulus blinked. “What do you mean, conflict?”

“I already—” Patton broke off with a reproachful look. “Weren’t you listening?”

“No, I figured out I didn’t like what you were saying so then I stopped.”

“Romulus!” Patton reproached.

“Well, I’m listening now.” Romulus shrugged exaggeratedly. “So, what do you mean, conflict?”

Patton hesitated, glancing guiltily at Janus, of all Sides. “Um—I dunno if I should say—” he hedged.

Everyone stared at him.

“I just—” Patton swallowed. “Last time—last time you got Thomas to make something kind of creepy like that—um, Logan and Janus had that—that fight…” He trailed off, giving Janus an apologetic look and staring at his shoes.

Janus’s gut dropped. How was this somehow his fault?

Logan frowned. “I did not enjoy that,” he said tightly. This, while not unexpected, made Janus feel even worse.

“Oh,” Romulus said quietly. “I see.”

And that was the worst blow of all—that Romulus would side with the others over Janus? Janus couldn’t remember the last time Romulus hadn’t backed him wholeheartedly and without question.

”Um—” Romulus drummed his fingers on his lower lip for a moment. “Um, how about if—if I just have Thomas make dino skeletons? And not the whole thing of how fossils get made? Would that be—better?”

Patton nodded. “If you don’t mind,” he said apologetically.

“I—no, of course not,” Romulus said, looking away, and Janus was hit with the overpowering sweetness of the lie.

***

“Hey,” Janus said, some time later. They’d all finished up the preparation for the art project and dispersed, but when Romulus had failed to emerge from his room even when Patton made cookies and the smell filled the Mindscape, Janus had filled his pockets with said cookies and gone to check on Romulus. The creative Side was sitting with his knees up to his chest on the floor of his room, now restored to its blank white expanse, and was scribbling back and forth with a single gray crayon on the floor. Janus knelt beside him and offered a cookie.

Romulus accepted it without meeting Janus’s gaze. “Hi,” he said limply. He put the cookie to his lips and nibbled a tiny bite off the edge.

“You were excited about the fossil idea, weren’t you?” Janus asked, making himself comfortable on the ground beside Romulus.

“I get excited about every idea.” Romulus sighed. “But yeah. It was gonna be so cool.” He frowned. “Until Patton ruined it.”

Janus relaxed. So Romulus didn’t blame him. That was—relieving. Janus didn’t know what he’d do without Romulus at his side. “Well, I had an idea,” he began. “Even though that’s your thing.” He nudged Romulus teasingly.

Romulus rolled his eyes, a tiny smile quirking his lips. “What idea?” he asked around another small bite of cookie.

“What if we did an adventure in here?” Janus asked. “Just you and me. So you could show me just how you’d have made it go. Make it even better.”

Romulus’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh,” he said, shoving the rest of his cookie in his mouth in one go. “Like, a dino adventure? Paleontologists, maybe?”

“Sure,” Janus agreed, because Romulus always had the best ideas for adventures and agreeing was usually the most fun option. “Whatever you want.” Besides, he still felt bad that apparently Patton had wanted to change the idea because of him.

“Oh my gosh,” Romulus repeated, scrambling to his feet. “Yes! Yes, yes—um—hang on, let me think of how it should go—” He squeezed his eyes shut for one second, two, three—“Got it!” he announced, eyes flying wide open. “Here we go!”

Janus, by now used to this procedure, closed his own eyes as the ground lurched under his feet and bright light flashed, the room reshaping itself to Romulus’s will.

“Perfect,” Romulus breathed, and Janus opened his eyes, a delighted gasp ready on his lips. (Positive feedback was very important for Romulus, Janus had found.)

He needn’t have bothered preparing, because the sight of a whole entire dinosaur, giant and perfect and bright blue and standing right there in front of them, was more than enough to prompt a delighted shriek.

“Right?” Romulus responded happily. “Can I make your clothes different?”

Janus didn’t always appreciate having his outfits transformed—Romulus cared far less about the way clothes felt on his skin than Janus did, and there were occasional mishaps because of this—but this adventure was especially because Romulus had felt sad, so letting him do things that made him happy seemed appropriate, and costumes made Romulus very happy indeed. “Sure,” Janus said. “Just make sure they’re soft.” Soft was usually the best guidance to give on this front, and then Janus would privately transform anything that still felt off.

Romulus nodded, and with another flash of light, their outfits transformed into paleontologist clothes: short-sleeve buttoned shirts with funny patterns, brown vests covered in patches, cargo shorts with lots of pockets, and big stompy boots, plus pith hats and backpacks. Janus found a pair of binoculars slung about his neck, and Romulus was now carrying a shovel taller than he was, which he handled with ease as if it were a hiking stick.

“C’mon!” Romulus called, taking off at a run through the jungle he’d created. Janus took just a second to give himself knee-high socks and turn his shirtsleeves long, so that there was no bare skin to brush against unfamiliar textures, then hastened to follow.

It wasn’t long before all Romulus’s woes were clearly drowned in the fun of playing with dinosaurs. They befriended a flock of velociraptors, rode on the back of a brontosaurus (its tail made an excellent slide), and played tag with a pair of t-rex (and the velociraptors). When they’d tired themselves out, they climbed onto the brontosaurus again, and Romulus conjured up a shady umbrella and a table full of cold treats on its back.

“This is very fun,” Janus observed, sipping with a silly straw at a tall, fancy glass filled with grape juice.

“Yes!” Romulus bounced in his seat, already bearing a chocolate mustache from the tremendous ice cream cone in his hands. “And Thomas likes it,” he pointed out, taking a bite of ice cream.

If he paid attention, Janus could indeed tell that Thomas was daydreaming along with them, and enjoying the dinosaurs very much. “Good,” he said, pleased. It was so satisfying, how often making Romulus happy also made Thomas happy—those were the two people whose happiness seemed most important to Janus. It made taking care of them much easier when Janus could do one thing that helped both of them.

All the same, it was heading towards dinnertime, and Janus wanted to be sure Romulus would be fully satisfied by the time this adventure had to conclude. “Do you want to show me how they turned into fossils soon?” he asked, as if the idea had just occurred to him.

“Ooh.” Romulus took another bite of ice cream. “Yes. Soon.” He hesitated, running a hand along the back of the brontosaurus. “It feels sad to be done with the dinos, though.”

“Make different ones to be fossils, then,” Janus suggested. “And keep the ones we were playing with.”

“Oh yeah! I can do that. I can do anything! Good idea.” Romulus nodded decisively, and with a wave of his hand, a section of jungle ahead of them cleared out into a wide open field, and more dinosaurs popped up to populate it. “Ready?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” Janus made himself comfortable.

Romulus grinned, wide and maniacal with his teeth on full display, and raised his hands.

The sky filled with fire, something dark blocking out the sunlight. Looking up, Janus saw a tremendous rock floating in the air just above the treetops, made of a rough dark brown stone pocked with holes; it was so big, Janus was sure you could fit whole houses on top of it. It was also on fire, even more so than the sky surrounding it. Aside from the flickering of the flames, the sudden scene of destruction was still; the rock didn’t move, and the doomed dinosaurs continued grazing and frolicking in the grass. Nothing made a sound.

“That’s the meteorite?” Janus inquired, pointing at the rock in the sky.

“Yeah! The one that killed all the dinosaurs!” Romulus bounced happily. “So then they all died and turned into fossils.” He snapped his fingers, and the field before them descended into chaos: the flames roared, trees began to crack and fall, and the dinosaurs began to let out loud, frightened dino-shrieks and to run back and forth in a manner Janus was pretty sure Thomas’s mom would describe as being “like headless chickens.”

“Ready?” Romulus inquired, raising his hand. The rock in the sky rose slightly with his gesture, as easy if he were moving a tiny feather. If Janus hadn’t been on so many adventures with Romulus before, he would almost be kind of scared of just how powerful the Side was in this space.

“Ready,” Janus assured him, and watched with an almost uncomfortable fascination as Romulus grinned and slammed his hand down and brought the meteorite crashing upon the helpless dinosaurs, created just to die.

There was a loud, uniform squelch as the meteorite pressed deep into the ground.

“Ew,” Janus commented, sticking his tongue out.

Romulus burst into hysterical giggles. “Right?” he agreed, flapping his hands. He composed himself after a moment, freeing up one hand to wave the meteorite off the ground and then flick his wrist, making it disappear with a pop.

In the crater lay dozens of clean, white dinosaur skeletons, each perfectly posed and laid out.

“Yeah!” Romulus said, though Janus hadn’t made any more comments yet. “So then, um, um then more stuff buried them up, and they were deep underground, so there’s lots of like pressure and stuff, right?” As he spoke, dirt filled in the crater and then pressed downwards, following his speech. “So that turns them from just regular skeletons into fossils, which are cooler and better, except it takes like a million years, like mummies but more. And then they last for, like, ever! Until the paleontologists find them!” He hopped to his feet, snatching his shovel (which had faded in and out of existence all afternoon as he remembered and forgot it by turn) out of midair. He offered a hand to help Janus up. “Wanna come dig up some fossils?”

Janus put his hand in Romulus’s and allowed himself to be drawn to his feet. “I’d love to,” he said wholeheartedly.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #ts storytime 2022 submission #janus sanders #ts janus #king creativity #patton sanders #ts patton #peregrin writes #ts fic #ts fanfic #it seemed the better way

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ineffablesnakegender · 3 years

Text

A little bit of autistic Janus for your soul <3

Hurt/comfort fic in which Janus has a meltdown because his of his hair (based off of true events in my life) and is comforted by the rest of the squad

Familial dlampr

Characters: main character Janus, Remus, Logan, Roman, Patton, Virgil, Thomas mention

First time writing in a while so please be easy on me also sorry if formatting is weird

If there was one thing Janus hated it was his hair. His hair that would constantly fall on his forehead and become a disgusting distraction. His hair that tickled his ears and sent him into a frustrated flurry. His hair that was now all over the bathroom floor. He hadn’t meant to do it, really he hadn’t, but he had become increasingly frustrated with his hair through the month. You see this whole thing started when Janus decided it was time to finally do that big stack of paper work from the lies he had told at an obnoxiously loud and irritatingly bright party that Thomas promised to go to for his friend.

Janus was sitting there at his desk and was hunched over his work, and with one last wriggle of annoyance, he had finally finished with the large stack of papers, now with every box checked I dotted and t crossed, Janus looked up from his desk and the first thing he noticed before he had gotten the chance to straighten his back was, of course, the wretched mess of itchy, bothersome hair that was now doubled in length sense the last time he checked. Janus grimaced and mumbled some colorful words directed at the ever so unaware strands that sat atop his skin, stretching his back and standing Janus noted to himself the mess he had made on his desk and promptly added cleaning it to his to do list choosing instead to be rid himself of the scratching at his neck, ears, and forehead.

It had been about a week since Janus cut his hair but the phantom itching persisted causing Janus to, on more than one occasion, consider asking Remus to simply cut his head off to make the insufferable feeling go away.

Another week passed and the itch was still not gone and Janus just couldn’t stop focusing on his hair, the way it fell into his ears and forehead and ran up his neck, it was as close to torture you could get without any actual torture involved, and Janus had just about had enough of it, and to make matters worse whenever he would tug at or scratch his hair even a little to much Remus would always be right there with a “Dee you are bleeding!” Or “Janus you’re pulling your hair out!” Didn’t he see that was the goal? Well the blood was just a side effect but it resided the pain of the ants crawling on Janus’ head.

Another week and Janus was ready to snap, NO, he had snapped! Janus would refuse to be without a hat on and even that was irritating to his skin, only small bits better that the hair on its own. He made the decision he had just cut it to long and so, in the middle of the night, Janus crept his way into the bathroom trying to be as quiet as possible and picked up the scissors. He had only intended to cut a little bit but it wasn’t enough and so he cut more hair off and some more and just a bit more just one more chop and soon he found him self reaches for the clippers and completely shaving his hair down to a thin layer of spikes. By now he was crying, his increasingly manic race to rid himself of the painful feeling forcing him to spiral into a frenzy of cursing, shaking, and stimming frustratedly, he had abandoned being quiet somewhere between the crying and the clippers and as he turned the clippers off their quiet but oh so loud buzz stopped abruptly and Janus could finally hear a very concerned Remus on the other side of the locked door, when had he locked the door? He reached up to unlock the door, when had he sat down? Remus flung the door open.

“Janus are you alright?!? What happened?!!” Remus spun his head around until he found Janus on the floor, who was suddenly not crying at all?

“Janus-“ Remus cut himself off with a sigh “what are you doing in here?”

“Why were you yelling kiddo?” A very anxious Patton said from beside Remus, when had the others got here?

“I was?” Janus finally said after what felt like forever. Patton let out a very concerned noise that Janus failed to catch his head spun in captivating circles of emotion.

“Yes Janus the whole house could hear you” “and then some” Patton said cut off by Roman who’s head appeared out from underneath his velvet sheets, Janus shivered at the thought of it, velvet? Seriously Roman velvet? Do you enjoy pain?

“Sorry guess I wasn’t paying attention.” Janus said far to nonchalantly for Patton’s taste. A long silence rung out from everyone as they all seemed to get what had happened and collectively waited for Janus to come back from his spiral, Virgil and Roman backed off from the situation, Logan and Patton went to prepare things to possibly help the situation such as water, Janus’ favorite gloves, and a heating lamp that Janus liked a lot. Remus just stood in the doorway and kept watch over Janus as his brain cleared of the fog and static that prevented Janus from being able to process what had happened.

“I’m bleeding.” Janus said so quiet it was almost a thought.

“Where? Do you want help?” Remus said equally as quiet

Janus nodded and pointed to the back of his ear and sure enough a small River had formed down his neck and seeped into his shirt.

Remus healed the wound without touching Janus as much as possible and after a while the two of them walked to the living room where Patton and Logan where setting up Janus’ favorite fidget toys and sensory gadgets. Janus immediately snatched up the black and white chew necklace that was in the shape of a crystal. He flopped down on the couch tired from the emotional outburst.

It was already the afternoon by the time anyone spoke next, everyone trying to give Janus the necessary time to cool down. It was Janus who spoke first.

Everyone was in the living area reading or listening to music through headphones or doing some arts and crafts, something quiet to let Janus rest, and Janus himself was simply sitting on the couch and watching everything around him.

“….thank you..” he whispered out “for helping me..” he looked entirely too unbothered but anyone who knew him could tell he was everything but.

“No reason to thank us Janus it’s not like you choose to have a meltdown.” Remus responded distracted by the bloody picture he was drawing.

“Yes but still… it means a lot to me.” Janus smiled the smile not reaching his eyes but still genuine.

They all silently agreed that it was ok to be noisy again and life went on as normal, but Janus would never forget the incident. Sure he had had meltdowns before but it was just him and Remus then and while Remus always did a great job and tried his best he didn’t always know what to do. Janus felt lucky and loved more than ever when he was with everyone and he knew deep down that no longer would there be days where Remus was left to scramble to help him because they weren’t alone anymore and he knew it would always stay that way forever.

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iceshard1011 · 3 years

Text

Before the world fell at our feet

Ships: platonic Moxiety, pre-romantic Anxceit (but really it's up to interpretation)

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Janus, Logan is there briefly

Also on Ao3!

Fic below the cut.

Some convoluted exchange of 'Ding Dong Ditch' except they talk about their feelings and try to resolve inner turmoil and maybe reach some sort of reconciliation. Not too hastily, though. They still hate each other, of course. Of course.

The silence of the hallway shattered with a flurry of tentative knocks against dark-painted wood.

“You haven’t been answering your phone, kiddo,” called a soft, almost shy voice. “I was wondering if you were doing okay, since... you know, things have been... tough, lately.” The room inside stayed quiet, no matter how carefully he listened. “I was hoping... you could come out for some food? We could bake together, if you’d like. It’s...” He laughed. It was mirthless and sad. “It’s sure been a while since we got to do that, yeah?”

Silence. Not even rustling sheets or a frustrated sigh.

He leaned back, trying not to look too obviously hurt — as if Virgil could see through his door. The wood was slightly chipped. He wondered when that had happened. Recently? Or had it been there for longer than he wanted to know?

He rubbed the back of his neck, pondering. What could he do? Virgil clearly didn’t want to talk to him... and he couldn’t be blamed, really.

“I just... thought it might make you feel a little better,” he tried. Virgil might not even be in there — there was no proof he was even listening. It was stupid to be doing this.

“I’ve seen you’ve been hanging out with Roman a lot more recently,” he went on. “That’s…” Unexpected. “Good. It’s so good, kiddo. You both did so well talking to Nico. I know Roman appreciates what you did.”

He trailed a finger down a small jagged crack in the purple paint.

“I wish I could have seen it in person,” he murmured truthfully. Wish I could have been the one who caused it. Wish I could have been the one you risked everything for.

But no — that was bad. Bad and selfish, and he couldn’t be like that. Thomas was trying to fix that about him, but people didn’t change easily, especially after years of a practiced notion. Life just didn't work like that.

“I only heard about the way your eyeshadow changed colour from the others,” he continued softly. “I bet you were just the prettiest thing in the world.”

He half expected to hear a huff or the shuffle of material as Virgil tried to work off his embarrassment. He didn’t hear the slightest hint of movement.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice broke. He clenched his fists, trying not to stain the floor with salty droplets. “I’m so... sorry, for everything, Virgil. For hurting you. For doing all the wrong things by you. For not being who you needed me to be, when you needed it the most.”

Against his will, his stinging eyes blurred further and spots on the carpet grew darker beneath him. “I’m sorry.”

He waited.

Nothing.

This was pointless. There was nothing on the other side of that door except silence and emptiness.

You told yourself not to get your hopes up, he thought, pulling back.

“I’ll... get out of your hair. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

The hallway remained still apart from the downtrodden shuffling footsteps slowly retreating.

Inside the bedroom, the embodiment of anxiety bit his lip so hard he tasted iron.

A few days later, Virgil crept out of his room for the first time in weeks, driven by his grumbling stomach and the ache in his chest. He rubbed the sleeves of his hoodie between his fingers in a repetitive, patterned motion. His breathing matched the movement. It became more forced as he descended the stairs. The kitchen was quiet, but not empty.

Virgil swallowed. No backing out now.

“Hey, Pat,” he said slowly. Patton looked up from where he was making pancakes at the stove. His face lit up, but from the way he wrung his hands together, Virgil could tell that he was restraining himself.

“Good morning, Virge,” he said. His voice was soft. It didn’t match the way his eyes shone with delight. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” said Virgil. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just... wanted to apologise.”

Patton’s eyes blew wide. “Um... For what?”

That caught Virgil off-guard. Why was Patton avoiding it? Usually he was open to anyone trying to talk about their thoughts. Had Virgil done something wrong? Had he made a mistake hiding from him? He shuffled in place.

“Don't make me, like... say it,” he grumbled.

Patton looked baffled, but pleasantly so. He smiled and shook his head. “Say what, kid — uh —”

“For ignoring you last night,” Virgil said, interrupting before Patton could stammer too much.

Patton blinked, tilting his head like a dog. “Last night...?”

Virgil frowned. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to —”

“Oh, no, of course not!” Patton said, shaking his head and raising his hands. “I just got a little confused! I’m more than happy to — Oh! Good morning, Logan!”

Virgil resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. All he got from the others now, aside from Patton, was awkward silences and loaded glares. It was doubtful that his anxiety would take kindly to one of Logan's indifferent silences this early in the morning.

“Good morning.” Logan’s response was cold... but it was a response, at least. The logical side came into Virgil’s view as he moved into the kitchen and brewed himself a mug of coffee without another word.

Patton turned back to Virgil, hands outstretched. “Virgil —”

“It’s fine,” Virgil said. Patton’s face flashed with hurt, and Virgil’s chest tinged painfully. He met Patton’s gaze meaningfully. “Really.”

Patton noticeably relaxed. He smiled, and it looked natural, and continued to make breakfast. Virgil shuffled down on his seat, listening to Patton’s pitiful attempt to converse with Logan, and tried not to cringe.

Virgil stood in front of a closed bedroom door and hated the queasy feeling in his stomach.

“Look, if this is how you felt the other night, my bad. I feel awkward as fuck.” Virgil was too scared to pause. If he paused, there was no doubt he would start overthinking, and then he’d back out, and then maybe he’d regret it. Virgil was so sick of regretting things. “And uh. Just for the record, you got the cardigan wrong. Again. So maybe just… stop trying.”

He noticed with a jolt that he was digging his fingernails into his wrists. He pried his arms apart and forced the words through his throat. “You’ve already got Thomas and Patton backing you. You can stop acting like a cheesy cartoon villain and just start trying to get the rest of our good wishes.” He realised how wrong that felt to say, and moved to cover up: “Not mine, though. Sorry, not sorry. That’s not happening for a while. Ever, actually. Don’t hold your breath.”

Virgil grinded his teeth, trying not to wince at himself. “I still hate you, is my point. But you make Patton happy, and... I guess you look after Thomas, in your own way.”

He looked at the ground. He thought of comforting smiles that spread warmth across his chest like wildfire. He thought about his anxiety being unconsciously battled into submission each time he was welcomed into each room he crept carefully into.

He thought about calming tactics and kind eyes and gentle voices and grey turning into patched purple. “I’m... definitely in no position to judge someone for that sort of shit.”

Virgil shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had a point. Get to the point.

“Look, my point is that — fuck you, fuck this whole situation. You’re still a pretentious asshole.” He frowned. “But... stop pretending to be someone you’re not. It’s getting tedious.”

As he talked, he wondered if he imagined the shuffle on the other side of the door, like someone trying to muffle noise. He pushed the thought away.

Get to the point, part of his mind urged again. Be brave. Be brave, damnit.

“Every one of Thomas’ sides deserves to be themselves without fear or judgement,” he said finally, spilling the words from his mouth like hot coffee he’d swallowed too fast. He took a breath, like it had taken energy to finally say it, and registered the deafening silence swirling heavily around him.

That’s all I got.

It didn’t feel like a microphone-dropping statement, or something that he thought the embodiment of deceit really wanted to hear. But he’d said it, and he’d meant it, and he thought that maybe that was enough.

He slipped away, fleeing back to his room, because he would never be anything more than a coward.

But if the next morning saw Virgil wandering downstairs to find Patton and Janus winding around each other as they made breakfast, he might've been rubbing at his cheeks to clear the exhaustion from his eyes, or perhaps cover up the smallest remnants of purple sparkles.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #anxceit #(but don't tell them that)#hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #they actually talk about their feelings #sort of #cross posted on ao3

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naminethewriter · 3 years

Text

Vacation

This is my entry for the @sandersidesbigbang! I had a lot of fun participating 🥰 Thanks to all the mods for organizing this! Also huge thanks to @just-a-pintrovert & @5-falsehoods-phonated for beta reading 💙 There is also some artwork also from @just-a-pintrovert here! They did a fantastic job and I highly recommend you check out her blog! And now, enjoy!

Here on Ao3

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

Relationships: platonic Intrulogical, platonic Prinmoxiety, platonic Moceit

Rating: T

Words: 12,502

Summary: Logan doesn't show up for breakfast one morning, leaving behind a letter declaring he's going on vacation. Unsure of its authenticity, Roman, Patton and Virgil go to look for him on Remus' side of the Imagination with a certain snake as their guide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started out like any other day. Patton entered the kitchen around 7 in the morning to prepare breakfast. Logan should join him soon, then Roman around an hour later and Virgil after that. When exactly was hard to say, the anxious side’s sleep schedule was the most inconsistent, but most of the time he was up last. Today Patton wanted to make an extra special breakfast since their discussion the day before had gotten a bit out of hand and nobody walked away from it happy. He just hoped all his kiddos would show up. 

Half an hour later that fear proves to be warranted. Logan still hasn’t come down. Patton had even checked the coffee machine to make sure he hadn’t missed him. But it was still as clean as he had left it yesterday. Nervously his eyes flicker from the stove to the clock and over to the stairs before he focuses on making breakfast again, but his eyes would stray every few seconds. 

Five minutes later he finally hears movement upstairs. Logan probably had been exhausted yesterday and stayed in bed a bit longer than usual. Someone was coming down the stairs now and Patton turns around with a big smile, expecting Logan but coming across Virgil instead. 

“Oh,” Patton says, his smile slipping. But he immediately catches the insecure look on Virgil’s face at his reaction. “Sorry, kiddo,” he laughs, trying his best to seem cheerful. “I thought you were Logan, but I’m happy to see you, too! It’s quite early for you though. Did you not sleep well?” Now that he takes a closer look, Patton can see the tiredness on Virgil’s face, who gives him a weak smile. 

“Morning, popstar. I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured might as well get up, y’know?” He moves over to the coffee machine, looking at it confused for a few seconds before he seems to realize what else Patton had said. “Logan wasn’t here yet?” 

“I don’t think so,” Patton shakes his head, his eyes now fixed on the stove so that Virgil doesn’t see the concern across his face. “I’m sorry there’s no coffee, you know I’m no good at making some.” He tries to play it off as a joke with a laugh but even he knows it’s not convincing. Virgil hovers at the coffee machine, unsure of what to do, how to comfort Patton. Instead, he moves to make the coffee himself and trying to cheer the other up with words. 

“It’s fine, Pat. I can do it and I’m sure Lo’s gonna come down soon. We all had a lot to think about yesterday… Maybe he just needs some more time to think it through again this morning. But you know how he is, he’ll come down and act like it was nothing later. You’ll see.” At the end of his little ramble, the machine is in the process of brewing and Virgil gives Patton a short hug before moving to set the table. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Patton mumbles, more to himself than to Virgil and continues to work on breakfast. 

Around 20 minutes later, Roman arrives, a lot more energized than Virgil had been. “What a wondrous morrow! ‘Tis a day to sing and dance, I say!” Both Patton and Virgil chuckle at his boasting. 

“Good morning to you too, Roman,” Patton greets as he pulls him into a loose hug before going back to distribute their breakfast onto the plates Virgil had sat out. 

“I’m surprised to see you arrive before me, Doom-and-Gloom,” Roman says to Virgil while preparing his own mug of coffee. The other had taken seat on the counter after finishing his part of breakfast preparations and watched Patton work the rest of the time while slowly nursing his coffee (I say slowly but he is already working on his second mug). Virgil just shrugs. 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Roman hums in acknowledgment and then silence falls over the kitchen, only Patton scurrying around is heard. Not long however before Patton cheerfully announces: “Breakfast is ready!” 

“Wonderful!” Roman exclaims loudly. “What a marvelous feast you prepared for us, padre!” Patton giggles. 

“Thank you for the compliment, my prince.” 

“My, of course! What kind of ruler would I be if I couldn’t appreciate my subjects!” 

“A pretty standard one,” Virgil adds with a small smile. Roman huffs. 

“Only more proof that I am exceptional.” 

“That you are, Roman,” Patton laughs, but he sobers up suddenly, now looking worried again. 

“What’s wrong, padre? Tell me your worries and I shall strike them down with my sword!” Roman proclaims loudly in hopes of banning that expression from Patton’s face. The other gives him a small smile before looking over to the stairs. 

“Logan still hasn’t come down. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m worried,” he explains. Roman quickly looks towards the stairs as well, this is the first he’s heard of their nerd not arriving this morning. It wasn’t unusual for Logan to go back upstairs after having his first cup of coffee, opting to get a bit more work done before the rest of them get up. But not coming down at all was rare. A glance towards Virgil shows him that the anxious side is worrying his bottom lip, eyeshadow a bit darker than normal. Roman places both his hands on Patton’s shoulders in a reaffirming grip and smiles at him. 

“I’m sure our nerd just got lost in a book or something. I shall go fetch him at once.” 

“Thank you,” Patton says with a small smile that Roman returns before he heads back up the stairs. Logan’s room was the one furthest away from the common area. He’d always reasoned that he didn’t want any of the noise to travel to his door and Roman could see his point. Logan was the only one of them that stuck to a regulated sleep schedule and was often the first one to retire back upstairs. And sometimes Patton, Virgil and himself could forget to be quiet afterwards so choosing the longer distance was reasonable. Roman finally arrives at the door to the logical side’s room and was about to knock when something catches his eye. Rather it is hard to overlook. Taped to the door is a thin, dark blue folder that stands out against the light brown wood of the door. On the front ‘To Patton, Roman and Virgil’ is written. With furrowed brows, Roman pulls the folder off the door and opens it, scanning the first page before hurrying back downstairs. 

“Guys!” he calls out, halfway down the stairs, apparently interrupting a conversation between the left-behind sides. They don’t look bothered by it however but rather concerned at his sudden re-entrance without the side he was supposed to get. 

“What’s wrong?” Patton asks, voice rising in concern. Roman just hands them the folder. Virgil takes it since Patton seems to be shaking from the nerves and flips it open. The first page was a simple, printed letter that read: 

Good morning fellow sides. 

After the conclusion of yesterday’s discussion, I have decided to finally 

follow through with something I had planned for a while now: 

I am going on vacation. 

In the last few months, following Janus�� acceptance and further involvement 

in our daily lives, the tension in our group has been rising and I must say, 

it figuratively suffocates me. Any attempts to resolve said tension has been 

disapproved of and you continue to disregard my contributions to various 

problems. I cannot work in this environment any longer. I have finished  

Thomas’ schedule for the next two weeks. I did my best to consider your 

and Janus’ previously given advice to ensure that it covers selfcare and  

productivity. If you want to make changes, go ahead but do not complain 

to me if it does not work out as you hoped. I have done my part now. I am 

not sure when I will return but I should not be gone longer than those two 

weeks. Do not summon me unless it is a life-or-death situation. I have  

prepared a place to stay and I am being provided for. I will continue to keep

an eye on Thomas regardless but I do not see any need to appear in person. 

I wish you a pleasant time, 

Logan Logic Sanders 

Silence hung over the three for a few moments. 

“You think he’s pranking us?” Patton finally askes. Roman hums in consideration but Virgil scoffs. 

“Since when is Logan a prankster?” He pulls out the other sheets of paper from the folder. “These are definitely from him; I doubt even Deceit could fake them so accurately.” Truly, the schedule was color-coded and formatted in a manner that was very familiar. Roman pulls the papers out of Virgil’s grasp. He quickly scans it and whistles appreciatively. 

“This really is his best one yet, I must say.” 

“Where do you think he went?” Patton askes, his gaze fixed on the stairs. “He wrote he’s being provided for but what does that even mean?” The other two could immediately tell how worried he was. They exchange a quick glance and Roman puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder. 

“Well, there aren’t many places he could be... Him staying here in the mindscape would defeat the purpose of going on vacation. He could have gone to the dark side but I doubt that, it felt like he’s avoiding Deceit as well and if he’s in the imagination, I should be able to tell but I can’t feel him there...”  

“Where did you find this anyway?” Virgil askes and holds up the folder. 

“It was taped to his door.” 

“So you didn’t actually check his room, right?” Roman brightens. 

“I did not! Great idea, Hot Topic. Let’s go!” He runs back upstairs. 

“How does he have so much energy in the morning?” Virgil groans but he follows after him, Patton in tow. When they arrive upstairs, Logan’s door is wide open and Roman could be heard humming inside. Virgil immediately pales. 

“Princey, what the fu-” He glances at Patton. “-frick are you doing?” he hisses, not crossing the threshold. Roman, who was currently going through the papers on Logan’s desk, shoots him a look. 

“Searching for clues, like you suggested.” 

“I never said that!” 

“You said to check his room!” 

“I meant knock to see if he’s in here, not waltz in and go through his stuff!” 

“Why are you whisper-hissing? Logan’s not here, I already checked his bathroom, closet and under the bed.” 

“Why would you-? Ugh, never mind,” Virgil groans and does cautiously enter the room, followed by Patton who looks around curiously. 

“I haven’t really been in here for ages!” he gasps. Virgil furrows his brows. 

“You go to his room all the time though?” 

“Yeah, sure, to check on him. He doesn’t really invite me in though and I don’t wanna pry...” He takes another look around, this time more apprehensively. “It feels kinda wrong to be in here. Without his permission, I mean.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Virgil exclaims, biting at a nail nervously. “C’mon, we verified he’s not here, let’s go.” 

“Verified? Boy, the nerd’s room’s already getting to you, huh?” Roman scoffs and lays back a few papers he doesn’t find interesting. “And we haven’t found any clues yet, leaving would be a waste.” 

“Roman, we are not here to snoop through Logan’s stuff. We just wanted to confirm that he is not here.” Patton scolds, both he and Virgil are already back by the door. Roman rolls his eyes. 

“Hold on, I’m almost done. How is it that I’m the one who’s been in here the longest but I’m the least affected by the room?” he mumbles a bit loudly to not be intentional while checking around the desk. 

“No, Sherlock Homeinvader, we’re leaving,” Virgil insists, presses the folder he was still holding on to in Patton’s hands and goes over to him to drag him back himself as Roman dramatically gasps. 

“What do we have here?” he asks even more dramatically and bends down, grabbing something out of what appears to be Logan’s trash can. Virgil nose wrinkles. 

“Disgusting, dude.” 

“Relax, it’s just a bunch of paper. Well, paper and this!” He holds up a container. A very familiar container. Pickled Poo Logs, Remus’ favored snack. Easily recognizable by his face at the top, though there are dicks doodled over the rest of the label. Virgil immediately snatches it out of his hand. 

“Remus was here?” Patton hesitantly comes over to take a look himself. “Maybe Logan was just curious about it? He gets like that sometimes, you know?” His nervous tone sabotages his attempt at lightening the mood, especially since he doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. 

“With dicks drawn all over it? No, Nerdy Wolverine would have asked for a clean one,” Roman comments and turns the case over in his hands, inspecting it. 

“You think Remus kidnapped him?” Virgil asks, panicked. 

“Considering the folder, unlikely. Oh, there’s the room’s effect!” Roman hums, pleased. “No, it is unlikely that Logan left involuntarily but he may have been tricked. Remus is an idiot but he’s not totally stupid. And he kind of fixated on our braincell after his introductory video.”  

“What has Remus done now?” calls an exasperated voice from the door. All three of them spin around to see Janus leaning against the doorframe, inspecting his gloved fingers with a small smirk on his lips. Virgil growls at him immediately and Janus rolls his eyes in response. “Oh, yes, please do keep acting like a guard dog, Virgil, it is so becoming of you.” Before he could snap back, Patton lays a hand on Virgil’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He continues glaring but falls silent.

“Hello Janus, what brings you here?” Patton asks, trying to sound cheerful but even to Roman and Virgil it sounds forced. It doesn’t fool Janus for even a second.

“I went to the kitchen to make my morning cup of tea and no one else was there as usual so I decided to come up here for no reason at all.” His smirk stays however he seems to eye Patton very carefully who laughs nervously in response.

“Oh, sorry about that. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried, merely… curious. You lot seldomly break your morning routine, especially Logan, so seeing him in particular absent from this group despite us being all gathered here in his room, I do wonder what is going on. Care to enlighten me?”

“We don’t care to. This is none of your business, leave Deceit!” Virgil practically spits. Janus tuts and shakes his head.

“On the contrary, dear Virgil, if this does indeed involve Remus, it is entirely my business. He has been acknowledged by Thomas, not accepted. It is still a part of my duty to reign him in from time to time. To make sure he does not hurt Thomas’ mental health excessively.”

“Oh yeah, you did a great job of that before the wedding,” Roman scoffs. Janus glares at him.

“In that instance I let him looser than normal precisely to protect Thomas’ mental health in the long run. He was pushing himself too much, acknowledging Remus’ presence was supposed to help him clear his head a little,” he hisses and Virgil snorts.

“That worked out so well.”

“Sssssshhut up!”

“Kiddos! Please, let’s not fight, we have more pressing things to deal with right now!” Virgil and Roman grumble but don’t interject. Janus looks defensive, still glaring at the two of them. “Logan is missing,” Patton continues. “He left us this note but it’s so unlike him, we aren’t sure if we should trust it. While we checked his room, Roman found one of Remus’ deodorants, so we suspect he might be involved somehow.” Apparently deciding to abandon his staring match with Virgil, Janus walks over to Patton and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand the situation. Could I look at the note and the deodorant, please?”

“Oh, sure,” Patton says with a light blush and hands over the folder. Janus quietly thanks him before thumbing through the pages. The letter he looks at last.

“Ah, yes. I did indeed warn him about his habit to overwork himself a few times recently. If he is taking a break, then I am more inclined to let him do so.”

“We don’t want to stop him from taking a break!” Patton hastily clarifies. “We’re just worried about the how. We don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. And if Remus is involved, I don’t know how much of a break he is really getting…” He trails off at the end, staring at his feet. Janus hums and quickly walks over to Roman to pluck the deodorant out of his hands.

“Hey!” The prince protests, but Janus doesn’t pay him any mind. Instead, he looks over the case in his hand. Once he was finished, he drops it back into Roman’s hands who squawks at him offendedly.

“From recent conversations, it did seem like Remus was getting rather attached to Logan and I don’t think they have a bad relationship. It might very well be that Logan asked the Duke for his help in this matter.”

“As if,” Virgil pouts, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of that himself. Janus ignores him.

“But if you feel like you need to check then I do have an idea where to look.” Patton beams at him.

“Really? Could you take us? Right now??”

“No way am I going anywhere with that snake!” Roman yells. “He might just be leading us into a trap!” Janus gives him an unimpressed look.

“And why would I do that? My job is to make sure Thomas’ mental health is in good shape. Getting all of you injured, or whatever you imagine I would want to do to you, would be nothing but counterproductive.”

“Like I believe that!”

“Regardless,” Janus says to brush off Roman’s protest who in turn only seems to get angrier, “I am afraid you do not have much of a choice. If the two are where I think they are, then you have no chance of getting there without a guide.”

“I can navigate Remus’ side of the Imagination just as well as my own, I do not need your help, Jack the Fibber!”

“I do not doubt that my prince. However, that place in particular is designed to keep unwanted visitors out. I doubt you would even find it, not to mention getting inside.”

“And what place would that be?” Virgil hisses before Roman can start yelling again.

“The library.”

“Remus… has a library?” Patton asks, doubt clear in his voice.

“No, he doesn’t. The fact that you do not know about it just proves my point. It is one of the most fortified buildings Remus has ever created. The layout constantly changes, there are traps and monsters roaming the halls.”

“If the layout changes, then why do you think you could take us there?” Patton interjects.

“Because there is one path that leads to the actual library within, and I mean only one path. Make one wrong turn or otherwise go off course and you will not find your way out easily. I got lost only once and I do not recommend it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Roman challenges, head raised high. Janus seems amused by his stubborn antagonism.

“I do not care if you believe me or not. You are the ones that want to check on Logan. I am only offering to take you since I had planned to go there soon anyway. And I need to see what Remus is doing from time to time. You can come along or not, it is totally. Up. To. You.” Janus emphasizes the last words by poking Roman lightly in the chest after each syllable, all the while smirking up at him. Roman continues to glare but he couldn’t quite repress the slight flush of his cheeks at Janus’ proximity. The snakelike side laughs lightly before making his way back to the door.

“I will leave after breakfast. You do what you think is right,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing back down the hallway, leaving the others in silence.

“He has got to be tricking us, right?” Virgil growls after a few seconds. Roman nods in agreement but Patton looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think so. He has no reason to.”

“He’s Deceit, Patton. It’s all he knows.”

“Look, I know you both had your differences with him and I’m still adjusting too, but Janus is an integral part of Thomas, we cannot deny that anymore. I am sure he does not want anything truly bad to happen to any of us, so if this is a trick then it is probably only a small prank.” Virgil and Roman share a look of disbelief but Patton doesn’t stop there. “And besides, what other options do we have? Sit around and hope that Logan is truly okay? Or comb through Remus’ side on our own? Your powers barely work over there Roman, and the place is not small, right?”

“Right,” Roman admits with a sigh after a few seconds of silence. “And I am worried about Nerdy Wolverine, if we don’t do anything about this, I will go stir crazy, so I guess I can try and trust that snake for a bit.”

“Thank you, Ro!” Patton pulls him into a hug, beaming. Roman chuckles and pats his back.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you, padre.” He turns to Virgil. “Are you going to come along?”

“…Fine,” Virgil grumbles, still clearly unhappy about the situation. “But if it turns out that he’s up to something, I am totally going to tell you ‘I told you so’.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, Emo Nightmare.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The track through Remus’ side of the Imagination hadn’t been pleasant. The atmosphere was tense and Patton’s attempts to lighten the mood didn’t cheer anyone up. Roman and Virgil did their best to ignore Janus and the deceitful side himself accepted their stubbornness quietly. Only Patton really talked, though even he gave up after a while. Thankfully, they didn’t come across any of Remus’ monsters but the landscape they had to track through was nightmarish enough and won’t be discussed here. Now they stood before their apparent goal.

“This… is it?” Roman asks, doubtfully. The building in front of them is a rather cliché-looking mansion from horror games. It is a wide, stone structure with two floors that seems to have high ceilings. It’s dark and intimidating looking though on closer inspection, the construction style seems to change randomly. A different kind of stone here, another window frame there. Apparently, Remus stitched together different buildings and haphazardly added details wherever it pleased him. For example, the house of Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas is sticking out of the roof, completely intact but just… there.

What stands out most though, is the glass dome further back on the building. Not because it is the most impressive but because it’s the only thing that is illuminated, emitting a soft yellow glow. All the other windows are pitch black.

“Not satisfied, Roman?” Janus smirks.

“Well, yes. I expected more from my brother’s so-called masterpiece!”

“I definitely called it his masterpiece,” Janus says as he rolls his eyes. “And the interior is the more impressive part. The exterior Remus changes every so often when he gets new inspiration. I think the last remodeling came after Thomas researched that giant lady and the game she’s in.”

“You mean the one you stole your skirt look from?” Virgil smiles, mischievously.

“Yes, because my look wasn’t almost finished by the time Thomas found out about her!” Janus hisses at him with a glare. Virgil shows him his tongue.

“Kiddos, please stop. We’re here for Logan, let’s concentrate!” Patton tries to encourage teamwork but again is not really successful.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil scoffs and glares at Janus one last time before turning back to the building in front of them.

“Let’s just get this over with. Remus’ side always gives me chills,” Roman complains.

“Very well.” Janus adjusts his gloves before clearing his throat. “Once we enter, as I haven’t told you before, there is one path we need to follow, so I need you to listen to my instructions carefully and let me take the lead. I know it’s very hard for you to go along with other people’s plan but trust me on this one, Roman.” He grins over at the prince whose face is turning red in anger. Before he can explode, Patton steps in.

“No provocation from you either, Janus! If we have to rely on you as you say, then make an effort to be reliable in return!” He leans close to Janus and pouts, giving him his best I’m-disappointed-in-you-and-I-know-you-can-do-better look.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop as well.” Janus waves him off. “The instructions can be stupidly specific sometimes, at one point we will have to stick to one side of a corridor, for example, but there will also be traps, distractions and monsters. Though – and make sure to remember that – nothing truly dangerous can access the path. So even if something comes charging at us, I need you to stay calm and not run around like headless chickens. I will not save you from your own stupid decisions.”

“Oh yes, so trustworthy. Thank you greatly for your generosity.” Roman rolls his eyes and Patton shots him a slight glare, making him huff but refrain from further comments. Janus ignores him completely.

“Our goal is the dome and usually it should take not over half an hour to arrive there.” Now Roman looks sceptic for a different reason.

“If we just need to get to the dome then can’t we just climb the building and get in from the roof?”

“Oh yes, what a great plan, I can’t believe I have never thought of that before!” Janus exclaims, hand on his heart but quickly drops the act. “The interior and exterior aren’t connected like that. Since Remus shifts the inside around as much, no window or door – other than the main entrance – connect to a specific room. It will just drop you randomly somewhere in the mansion. And as I’ve stated before, that is not something you want to happen. So no, we can’t do this like a heist movie.” Roman looks angry again but doesn’t comment. Patton pats him on the shoulder (which only seems to sour his mood more) before addressing Janus.

“Alright, we will follow your lead.” he says with a smile. Janus nods at him stiffly before moving towards the front door without another word, the others following behind him with tense expressions (though Patton tries, and fails, to hide his).

The door to the mansion is made of a heavy, red wood that Janus pushes open without hesitation. Behind it lies… a rather normal looking entrance hall. There is a long carpet that leads to the grand staircase in the middle of the room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and the decoration is tasteful. Or rather, it used to be. As impressive as the hall is, it is rotting away. There’s dust everywhere, as well as spiderwebs and the air is thick and unpleasant.

“This place has so much potential if my brother bothered to take care of it,” Roman huffs as he looks around. Janus doesn’t respond but instead gives more instructions.

“Follow behind me in a line. And please do walk next to each other, that wouldn’t be risky at all.” After saying that, he moves toward the back of the hall, left of the staircase where a door is situated. “Behind here is where the dangerous path starts. Be. Very. Careful,” Janus stresses, looking back at the others who had followed him.

“Will do!” Patton responds, with faux cheerfulness. Roman and Virgil sigh but they do line up. Their marching order is Janus, Patton, Virgil and Roman in the back. The first few hallways and rooms they pass aren’t all that bad. They have a few disgusting gimmicks – bleeding walls, gooey carpets, a mirror that insults you when you stand before it – but nothing too severe. The first truly shocking room (though it really should have been expected, in hindsight) they come across is…

“Is this the playroom from Fifty Shades of Grey?” Virgil asks after they all simply stared at the contents of the room for a few moments.

“Thomas hasn’t even seen that movie!” Roman exclaims, very red in the face. He is also holding Patton’s glasses to protect his purity while Virgil holds his hand while he is effectively blind. Janus shrugs his shoulders.

“The scene has been referenced in enough videos and interviews that we have a basic understanding of what happened in it. And that might have been where Remus got the idea from, but he definitely modified it to be more to his taste. It is a room for BDSM though.”

“How… How do you know that?” Roman asks, still very much embarrassed.

“… Just be grateful that there are no people in here today,” is all Janus is willing to admit before heading towards the door that allows them to continue. The corridor behind it is dimly lit and a few lights even flicker. Janus leads them on confidently, the others follow him back in line and with Patton’s glasses returned to their owner. However, the creepy feeling of the hallway has Patton continue to cling onto Virgil’s hand, who is the side of the group most comfortable with horror. Roman has one hand on his sheathed sword – that he had strapped to his side before they entered Remus’ side of the imagination – and the other has a tight grip on Virgil’s hoodie. The anxious side isn’t very happy about how the two clinging to him limits his movement, but he can understand their worries, so he lets it slide.

“Did you hear that?” Patton squeaks out and for a moment Virgil doesn’t know what he means before a thump echoes down the hallway. They freeze, bringing Roman to a stop behind them.

“What’s wro- “

“Shhhhhh!” The rumbling becomes louder and now Janus notices that they had stopped following. He, unlike Roman can guess as to why so he just waits ahead in slight annoyance. He had warned them before entering, he won’t tell them again. By now Roman had caught on and he grips the sword tightly, ready to draw.

Ahead of them, a monster comes around the corner. It has the body of a gorilla and walks on all fours, but its head is that of a snake and a pair of wings grow from its back. That would have been enough to scare Patton, maybe even Roman, but the most noticeable and gruesome attribute of the monster were its injuries. Maybe it was supposed to be a kind of zombie, since there are large chunks of flesh missing from its gorilla body, other patches lacked fur and again others ooze a liquid that may have been blood if it wasn’t so obviously sticky.

The snake head isn’t fairing much better. It misses some scales and there are a few black spots that might have been burn marks. One of the wings seems undamaged though its partner looks all the worse for it. There are hardly any feathers left and the bones that are now left exposed seem broken in a few places and hang limply in a way that looks very, very wrong.

The monster spots them easily, makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a mix of a hiss and a roar and charges at them. Roman curses quietly and quickly pushes Virgil and Patton behind him. Janus looks unbothered, he is leaning against the wall and waits for it to be over. The monster gains more and more speed (considering the length of the corridor, it doesn’t make sense how long the charge takes), sprinting at them, until – oh so suddenly – it collides with something and crashes to the ground. Roman, Virgil and Patton stare at it with open mouths.

“I told you: as long as we stick to the path, nothing can hurt us,” Janus explains nonchalantly before resuming his way down the corridor, towards the beast that twitches on the ground. The others stare at it a moment longer before they hurry after Janus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few corridors and rooms were not all that difficult. One hallway was filled with spike traps that they had to avoid, and they passed three different torture rooms, all with different equipment. Janus explained that Remus liked to separate them by era and country, so he had, for example, one room filled with torture instruments used in the witch hunts in Germany from 1550 to 1650. And while they weren’t nice to look at, the rooms were empty and so it was left to their own imaginations as to how the instruments might have been used.

The next impactful incident happens in a corridor with a ceiling that falls down and crushes everyone beneath it. To avoid it, Janus told them to stick as close to the right wall of the hallway as possible. Their pace is significantly slower this way but none of them wanted to be squished so they carefully set one foot in front of the other.

“We’re almost there,” Janus calls to the others. The passage isn’t all that long but with the literally looming threat, it sure feels like it.

“Pat, you’re not stepping right,” Virgil hisses and pulls him more to the side.

“Sorry!” the moral side squeaked. “I think my glasses are smudged a bit. It makes it hard to see.”

“Oh, sorry, padre. That might have been me when I held them for you,” Roman apologizes.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I do it myself all the time.”

“Well, better clean them before one of your feet get crushed. Everyone stop!” Virgil commands and though he seems annoyed, Janus complies. Patton gives them an apologetic smile before taking his glasses off to wipe them clean with his shirt as best as he can.

Unable to hold still, Roman shuffles a bit on the ground and that’s when he makes a mistake. One of his feet lands too far away and a click comes from the ceiling. With a whoosh and a bang, part of the ceiling comes down. Virgil startles so bad that he lunges forward a bit, upsetting Patton’s balance and sending him to the floor, taking Janus with him. Thankfully, they don’t trigger another trap, but Patton’s glasses fall to the ground and skitter down the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asks, frantically, moving to help Patton up.

“I’m fine, but my glasses…”

“Do not worry, I will get them back for you!” Roman proclaims before starting to climb over Virgil and Patton still on the floor to get to the front.

“Watch it, Prince Douche!”

“I am, Emo Bitch!”

“Language!”

Roman manages to get past both of them and Janus before the latter grips his arm to stop him.

“Don’t!” he hisses. Roman eyes him skeptically.

“And why not, oh Great Deceiver?” he mocks.

“Because we need to make a right here! The glasses are off the path!” Understanding blooms on Roman’s face and he looks back towards the glasses, a few feet away from the crossing they need to take.

“I can’t just grab them real quick and come back?”

“No. Once you’re off the path you can’t just turn around. I doubt you’ll even be able to still see us then.”

“It’s okay,” Patton calls from the back. He and Virgil are back on their feet. “I have a spare pair in my room, if you guide me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Again, I’m so sorry, Padre.”

“Please stop apologizing, it’s really fine, promise!” Patton smiles but his eyes are obviously not focusing on Roman and it’s apparent just how little he can see like this.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Virgil mumbles and leads him forward and into the crossing where they are safe from more falling ceilings.

“It’s not fine,” Janus suddenly speaks up. All eyes turn to him (or where Patton thinks he is). “We’re almost at the library but Remus, as charming as he is, of course made the last stretch the most annoying. Most of the time it’s a ladder we will need to climb with traps all over them to try and get you to fall over and over and over again. I can warn you about the ones I spot but if Patton can’t see them himself, he won’t be able to avoid them properly. We need to get his glasses somehow…”

The three with working eyes pondered for a bit before Roman speaks up.

“I think Virgil might be able to reach if he lays on the ground…”

“Why me?!”

“You’re the tallest.”

“By a few inches at best!”

“Well, those few inches might just be what we need here,” Janus chimes in and Virgil glares at him.

“C’mon, Beetlejuice, you want to get out of here, right? And we can’t leave Patton behind.”

“Really, kiddos, it’s fine! I’ll manage… somehow.”

“Yes, keep saying that, it’s sooo helpful!”

“Don’t take it out on him!”

“Just stop it!” Roman yells over the chaos. “Virgil please. I’ll hold on to your foot, it’ll be fine!” Virgil eyes him for a moment before he sighs.

“Fine but you use that,” he taps against Roman’s sash, “to secure my foot. I don’t trust your milky hands.”

“Milky?!”

“Ugh, just do it!” Janus groans and is met with two glares for his effort but both Roman and Virgil get to work. With the red band firmly bound around Virgil’s shoe and Roman’s hand, the former carefully lies on the floor. Just as he is about to start robbing over to the glasses, a door down the hallway opens and a figure emerges. Virgil stares at it in disbelief.

“Why Pyramid Head?!” Indeed, the creature now slowly making its way toward them, knife dragging across the floor, was the iconic monster from Silent Hill 2. Janus is the first to regain his composure.

“At least he’s slow! Quickly grab the glasses before he gets over there!”

“Easy for you to say- “

“Stop arguing, please,” Patton begs from his position against the wall of the next corridor they would traverse. Virgil grumbles under his breath but makes his way forward. And so does Pyramid Head.

It’s like watching a (very slow) head-to-head race toward the finish line. Robbing forward on his stomach, Virgil is about as fast as Pyramid Head’s walking speed. Inch by inch, Virgil gets closer to the reach of the gigantic knife still dragging along the floor. The creature doesn’t even need to get to him, just close enough to swing its weapon.

Virgil’s ankle leaves the path as he gets close enough to try and reach the glasses. And if Pyramid Head used its blade right now, it might have a chance to hit but still it moves forward, into a position where it is more likely to strike true.

Virgil’s fingertips hit the frame. Just a little bit more. Half of his foot is still within the barrier. Roman has a firm grip on the sash. Virgil’s hand closes around the glasses and Pyramid Head raises his knife to swing down.

“Got them!”

“Janus! Help me pull him back!” Roman calls as he holds Virgil’s shoe with his tied-up hand and places the other on his ankle. Immediately, the other is beside him, grabs onto his arms and pulls. And not a second too late. The knife lands where Virgil’s head had been moments before, and Roman and Janus fall onto their asses while Virgil is trying to catch his breath and to not go into a full-blown anxiety attack.

“What happened?? Are you okay?” Patton calls over, worriedly.

Roman lets out a breathless, unbelieving laugh and collapses onto his back, the adrenaline rushing through him. Which turned out to be good because as soon as his head hits the ground, a click comes from the ceiling once again.

“Shit-!” Quickly Roman rolls to the side before his head is flattened by the trap. He must’ve moved within its range by an inch. Janus stares at him in disbelief.

“How are you alive?”

“I’m too fabulous to die.” The ridiculous response got Virgil to laugh and forget his panic for long enough to calm down.

“Guys?” Again, Patton tries to get their attention.

“We’re all fine, Pat. And I’ve got your glasses, hold on.” Virgil climbs to his feet, wipes the lenses on his hoodie to clean them as best he could before heading over to Patton and pushing them onto his nose. “How’s that?” Patton doesn’t answer, just pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Um… Sure. No problem,” Virgil mumbles nervously. Patton gives him a smile before looking over to the other two that are in the process of standing up. On the other side of the barrier, Pyramid Head has lost interest and was now moving away again. The sides pay him no mind.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Roman comes over to Virgil and Patton with a grin, Janus on his heels.

“Speak for yourself, princey. I’m so ready to get out of here.”

“I’m having so much fun with this. Let’s go, sadly, we’re almost there.” Janus takes the lead once again and the others follow. They pass through one more room, a laboratory of sorts with lots of blood on most of the surfaces (thankfully, the floor is mostly clean), before they enter what seems to be an elevator shaft. And indeed, the only way forward is a ladder.

“How surprising,” Janus mutters under his breath before turning back toward the others. “As I’ve said before, this part is not really dangerous, but pretty annoying. There will be traps to try and get you to fall but even if you do, you will fall slowly. Remus implemented this more as a prank than anything else. I’ll tell you about what I spot but we may need several tries.”

“Okay, we’ll trust you to not let us down,” Patton says with a wink. Janus stares at him with a blank look.

“That was terrible.” Then he starts to climb, Patton after him, then Virgil and Roman is in the back again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They do indeed need more than five tries to get to the top. It was especially annoying that Patton fell for the same trap twice, requiring the rest to wait where they were until he climbed up again. Their arms are gonna be sore tomorrow for sure. But they had finally made it.

The ladder ended in another corridor but this one was clean and wonderfully decorated in greens and silver. Portraits line the walls, most of them of Remus himself, but there is one of Janus and one of both together. Most peculiar are two others however. One shows Remus grinning, arm out to the side, probably hugging someone but the other half of the painting is missing. The second is simply an empty frame.

“Self-centered much?” Roman scoffs.

“Oh yeah, like you don’t have at least a dozen different self-portraits in your castle, Prince of Narcissists,” Virgil retorts. Janus doesn’t pay any attention to the banter or the pictures for that matter. He strides ahead with purpose. Patton watches him in concern, but he feels like this isn’t a moment to pry.

At the end of the corridor is an enormous double door, also in green and silver. The handles, however, are made of gold.

“Does he have some sort of obsession with Slytherin or something?” Again, it’s Roman commenting. Janus hisses at him in disdain.

“For your information, he is a Gryffindor, same as you. And his second choice would be Ravenclaw. No, green and silver just happen to be his favorite colors.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Roman holds up his hands in surrender. “What made you so cranky?”

“Please, keep talking.” Janus rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get it over with.” He grabs the handle on one side and pushes, Patton quickly helps him with the other. Slowly the heavy material gives away and swings open. And suddenly their vision is filled with green.

In front of them is a jungle and as they take the first steps in, the humid air hits them. Birds can be heard singing somewhere but none of them are able to spot them. They stand in a clearing, although the tree line that surrounds them is only about ten feet from them. The trees themselves tower over them, their leaves lush and green, vines hanging between them. The ground is littered with bushes and plants and only one way seems to lead further inward, its stones wide and beautiful. As they look up into the sky, they can see the glass of the dome incasing them, the sun beaming down outside. Which was weird since when they had been in front of the building the weather had been quite dreary.

“Are we… really in the right place?” Patton asks, his voice hushed as if he was afraid of breaking the serenity of their surroundings by being too loud.

“Yes, we are. If you look closely, you can see a few shelves on the far side of the dome.” Janus points upward and the others follow his line of sight. Indeed, quite a ways away, they could see some brown structures following the curve of the dome.

“How are the books not falling?” Virgil questions, his eyes squinted to make out anything in the first place. Roman snorts.

“This is the imagination, Doubtful Central. Remus doesn’t want them to fall, so they don’t fall.” Virgil sticks out his tongue at the prince’s condescending tone. Patton lightly scolds them to stop fighting. Janus clears his throat.

“We need to track along the path for a bit until we reach a river. Behind it is the library.”

“And hopefully Logan,” Patton sighs. “I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he is, padre. You know our nerd, he isn’t easy to beat,” Roman jokes, his hand squeezing Patton’s shoulder in support. Patton smiles at him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right!”

“You wish, princey.”

“Kiddos…” Patton almost sounds defeated and Janus pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“He used to be like that with Remus, too. It’ll be fine.” Patton nods and gives Janus a grateful smile. He, in turn, gives a nod in acknowledgment back and turns to back to the bickering two. “I hate to interrupt you but one more warning. Watch your feet in there. There are some books that have gone… wild.” The others stare at him a moment.

“He stole the Monster Book of Monsters, didn’t he?”

“… He created something similar at least.”

With a groan from Virgil, the group sets out and follows the path. Even though it is made of stone, there are still quite a few branches and vines to dodge. The jungle isn’t quiet either, various sounds resounding in the air. Rustling in the bushes, noises that might belong to a kind of monkey, the birds’ continuous songs. A collage of different sounds that is almost overwhelming.

Roman keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword in case one of the animals decide to come their way, his eyes scanning the trees continuously. Patton clutches one of Virgil’s hands in his own, both also checking their surroundings nervously. Meanwhile, Janus’ eyes are fixated on the ground.

After they had walked for a few minutes, the tension drops a bit. Most of the jungle’s inhabitants seem to go out of their way on their own without hostility. In that moment, a bush on the right side rustles suddenly, then one to the left and unbelievably quickly, two books shoot out of the greenery and try attacking the groups feet. Patton screams and jumps into Virgil’s arms whose eyeshadow turned a very deep black.

“Just give them a good kick, that usually scares them off!” Janus calls over the ruckus Patton is making, mostly directed at Roman who had unsheathed his sword. He is trying to stab the books, but their binding is quite resistant, and he can’t really get a good hit in. As he hears the call however, he shoots a quick look over to Janus, who has taken a few steps away to protect himself, before swinging his leg with all his might, hitting one book directly into the spine and sending it flying into the canopy.

The second one snarls and turns its attention from Virgil, whose shoe it had been trying to chew through, to Roman, and (again quicker than you would expect from a thing with no legs) darts toward him, in a zig-zag pattern so it wouldn’t suffer the same fate as its companion.

“Shit,” Roman curses, earning a weak ‘Language!’ from Patton who was calming down now that the book wasn’t focused on him and Virgil anymore. Roman tries to land another hit but the book is too fast and lunges forward, most likely to bite him in the leg.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Virgil’s heel digs into the cover, throwing the book back down to the ground. It whimpers and quickly disappears back into the bushes. With heavy breaths does Virgil set his foot back down, Patton still in his arms. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Hot Topic! You’re stronger than I thought.”

“Well,” Virgil shrugs while Patton climbs down, “fight-or-flight, remember?” Roman laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“Right, right.” They smile at each other for a moment before Patton speaks up.

“Where’s Janus?” Surprised, the three quickly take a look around. The deceitful side was nowhere in sight.

“I knew that slimy snake could not be trusted!” Roman yells angrily. Virgil has a similarly dark look. Patton doesn’t look convinced.

“Maybe he just went ahead? It’s not like there are any other paths we can follow, so he could have just gone ahead to scout for more bad books?”

“You really are too trusting, padre,” Roman scoffs. “But you are right, there is only one path to follow, might as well take it. Turning around now would be pointless anyway.” He and Virgil start walking forward. Patton nervously gnaws at his lip, not liking how this is turning out at all.

They do find Janus not all that far up ahead. He is crouching down in front of a bush, apparently muttering to himself. The path had winded at bit and with the branches in the way they hadn’t been able to spot him earlier. Still, Roman continues to be mad and stomps over to him.

“So now is the point where you try to abandon us?? Just what is your game, snake?!” Janus looks over his shoulder, as calmly as ever.

“Abandoning you was definitely my intention,” he scoffs before turning back around, reaching for something, and standing back up after. When he then turns to face them fully, he is holding a long, yellow snake in his arms that is winding itself around his torso. “This is Jake, I used to keep him in my room, but he took a liking to the jungle, so I let him live here, most of the time at least.” Jake stops his climbing and watches them for a moment, his tongue flickering out.

“Aww!” Patton coos before stepping a bit closer. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, he doesn’t bite. Most of the time.” But the moral side has already stopped listening, instead stroking the snake’s head which he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Roman, who had been a bit stunned at the sudden animal in Janus’ hands, regains his composure.

“So why did you disappear then?” he demands. Janus shrugs.

“I figured you could handle two books with no actual teeth and Jake called out to me, so I went ahead to find him. There is only one path after all, I doubted you could manage to get lost.” Roman is practically fuming but Patton interjects before he can blow up.

“You can speak with him??”

“Yes. You really think Thomas modeled me after a snake and didn’t give me the ability to speak Parseltongue?”

“Cool!” Patton whispers, staring at Janus with wide eyes, who looks a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He clears his throat.

“Anyway. Jake tells me that Remus is indeed here. And he’s not alone.” Immediately, Virgil’s gaze snaps to him.

“Logan?”

“Most likely. Jake has never met him before, but the description fits.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.” Janus shrugs.

“He’s just a snake. He doesn’t lie to me, but he could be wrong.”

“We should hurry,” Patton says with determination, pulling his hand back. Jake hisses in displeasure from losing the scritches he was receiving. Janus rolls his eyes.

“Come back with me today and I’ll scratch you wherever you like.” That seems to please the snake since he gives another, smaller hiss and continues his winding around Janus until he finds a comfortable position.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They continue along the path for another few minutes without incident. Some bushes rustled but no more books tried to attack them. Finally, they could hear the sound of rushing water. The river must be near. Unconsciously, they increase their pace until they end up before a cliff, the path just suddenly ending there. The cliff isn’t all that high, only a few feet away from the rushing stream. Some type of fish jumping out of its waters every now and again. The jungle continued to the left and right of them, no bridge in sight.

“Um… How do we get across?” Patton asks, eyeing the drop. Janus takes a second to answer, not focused on the below but the beyond.

“We don’t,” he finally answers.

“What’s that supposed to mean??” Virgil demands, yet again glaring at him. Janus shrugs while he pats Jake’s head, eyes still focused ahead of them.

“This place is one of Remus’ most treasured places and there are times when even he wants to be left alone. If he doesn’t want anyone to come here, he simply removes the bridge. There is nothing we can do.”

“So we made this entire trip for nothing?!”

“I wouldn’t say that. Look.” Janus points ahead. The others reluctantly follow his gaze. None of them have really focused on the other side yet, too preoccupied with trying to go further.

A few more trees stand along the cliff but way less dense than on their side. The path continues for a few more feet before it ends at the steps of a lightly raised wooden platform, the true start of the library. Behind a reading area, rows and rows of bookcases tower, each row bigger than the one before it until the ones merging with the wall that reach way, way higher, following the curve of the dome and still somehow letting the natural light from outside shine through.

What Janus was referring to, however, is the aforementioned seating area. Among the few tables and chairs, are some sofas, beanbags, stools, and various other seating opportunities, all in different styles and colors. Because of course Remus would never settle on one theme alone. Only one of those seats was currently occupied though.

Lying on a chaise longue, turned towards them, with a book in his hand and a steaming cup on a small table beside him, is Logan. Seemingly without a worry, their nerd is relaxed and reading. Without looking away from the pages, he reaches over, takes the cup and sips whatever drink it contains before placing it back down without a second though. It seems like their worrying had been unnecessary.

“He looks fine, right?” Virgil says, though he sounds rather nervous, and he raises his thumb to bite at the nail. Patton instinctively stops him.

“That’s good, right?” he adds, also not sounding quite convinced. Janus watches their reactions without commenting. He hadn’t been worried about the logical side, he just wanted to avoid the others working themselves up over the next few days with their wild theories.

“It is too early to say yet!” Roman proclaims. “That could just be an illusion to fool us. To let our guard down! I will not leave until I spoke with him in person.”

“Nobody said anything about leaving though?” Virgil mutters. Roman ignores him.

“But we can’t reach him,” Patton objects. “How do you wanna do that?”

“Hmm…” Roman hums and takes another look at the raging water below them. “It’s not that far across. If I jump far enough, I’m sure I could make it. And I’m an excellent climber and swimmer!”

“I would advise against that,” Janus speaks up, Roman immediately eyeing him suspiciously.

“And why is that? Huh?”

“Oh, my mistake. I assumed you would be able to recognize piranhas when you see them.” Quickly, Roman’s eyes flickered back to the river and the fish still jumping out of it occasionally. “I’m also pretty sure Remus put some sharks in there just because he could. And I mean the bloodthirsty kind.” Patton’s face is now white as chalk and Virgil had a firm grip on Roman’s sleeve.

“Fine, fine!” the prince exclaims. “No swimming, I get it!” He gestures widely and Virgil lets go of him, turning away, his ears pink in embarrassment. “Then I guess we have no other choice!”

“And what choice would that be?” Janus asks, eyebrow raised. Roman grins at him before cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling at the top of his lungs:

“LOGAN! OVER HERE! HEY! ACROSS THE RIVER!” The other three slap their hands over their ears, glaring at the prince. Roman doesn’t quiet down however, until Logan obviously takes note of them. Then he switches to waving widely. Janus rubs his temples; he has had about enough for today. Patton joins in on the waving though less enthusiastically. Virgil buries his hands in his pockets and shrinks back.

Logan does not look happy to see them. Not that they could make out much from the distance in terms of facial expressions, but he had gone stiff once he realized what was happening. He bookmarks his page before setting the book down and stands up. He turns away for a moment and Janus thinks he can hear him calling out to Remus, but the rushing of the water makes it hard to be sure. Afterwards, Logan makes his way over to them, down the steps and toward the edge of the cliff where he stops. Now they could make out the frown on his face more clearly.

“What are you doing here?” he calls over, sounding displeased. Roman hesitates to answer because of his tone, so Patton speaks up instead.

“We were worried about you, kiddo! You just up and vanished and we didn’t know where to!”

“I am aware, that was intentional. Did you not find the folder?”

“We did, but we weren’t really sure if we could trust it,” Virgil explains. Having to yell over the sound of rushing water quickly became annoying.

“What do you mean, you weren’t sure if you could trust it?” Logan frown deepens but before one of them could answer, Remus appears behind him suddenly.

“Boo!” he yells, grinning all the while. Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t react further. Roman stiffens, Patton bites his lips and Virgil buries deeper into his hoodie in displeasure. Janus is standing to the side, petting Jake, and acting like this situation doesn’t involve him.

Remus cackles at their reactions before saying something to Logan and summoning what appears to be a soundboard. He lowers a few regulators and immediately their surroundings quiet down. The river now sounds distant, like the cliff just became a few miles deeper than before, the rustling of the leaves falls quiet, as do the birds. The surreal situation stuns all of them for a moment.

“There! That’s better, right?”

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan says before turning back to the others, not having to yell anymore. “Now please continue your explanation of why you did not heed my instructions?”

“Well, um…” Patton tries to find the right words, but before he can, Janus speaks up.

“Remus, please unmute your brother.” Everyone turns to look at Roman whose face is red and seemingly trying to yell but no sound comes out. Quickly all eyes turn back to Remus who is pouting.

“Do I have to?”

“If you don’t want them to continue assuming that you kidnapped our dear Logan over there, than you might want to consider not annoying them, yes,” Janus shrugs, apparently not really caring whether Roman gets his voice back or not. Logan raises an eyebrow and shifts his focus back toward his fellow light sides.

“You assume I was kidnapped?”

“It all happened so suddenly; we didn’t know what to think!” Patton tries to explain, eyes jumping between Logan, Roman and Remus. “Please give him his voice back,” he begs after a moment of Logan glaring at them, obviously not happy with the answer.

“But-!” Remus starts to whine before Logan puts a hand on his arm and in a low tone says: “It will only make this take even longer. Please just do it so we can get this over with?”

“Ugh, fine!” Remus groans before flicking one regulator back up but not to full volume.

“You stinking rat, I’ll run you through with my sword!” Roman yells, or at least tries to, only managing to raise his voice a little louder than his normal speaking tone. He glares at his brother when he realizes this, who flips him off in return.

“Stop fighting, kiddos, please.”

“He started it!” Roman protests but Patton just shrugs.

“And we came here without permission. Plus, we’re here to talk to Logan, not to antagonize Remus.” The prince clicks his tongue but doesn’t say any more. Remus laughs.

“Yes, listen to your Daddy, Ro-bro! Or you might get spanked later!” Logan squeezes his arm that he was still holding on to and frowns at him.

“You stop starting fights as well, Rem. I just want them to leave.”

“You know how to shut me up,” Remus grins and wiggles his eyebrows. Logan simply gives him an unimpressed stare. After a few seconds, he drops the grin and sighs. “Fine, fine. You deal with them, and I’ll go play with Bruce.” He summons his tentacles before diving into the river below. Patton gasps.

“Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine. It’s his realm so nothing he creates here will do him harm unless he wants it to,” Roman reassures, almost too quiet. Regulating his volume is going to be hard for a bit and he already looks annoyed by it. Patton nods at his reassurance before turning back to Logan.

“Where were we, kiddo?” The logical side, who had also followed Remus’ decent with his eyes, looks back up and returns to frowning.

“You were attempting to explain why you assumed I was kidnapped despite me leaving clear instructions to prove the contrary.”

“It was just very unlike you, Lo,” Virgil chimes in, still deeply buried into his hoodie. “You didn’t say anything beforehand, and we thought Deceit or the Duke might have forged the folder.”

“Exactly! And then we found my brother’s atrocious deodorant case in your trash and…” Roman trails off as he realizes what he just said.

“You… went through my trash?” Logan is now undoubtedly seething, glaring at them with cold eyes.

“Well, you see…” Roman tries to explain with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. Patton looks just as likely to come up with an excuse, so Virgil speaks up again.

“I asked Princey over there to check if you were in your room or not. He took that as an invitation to go snooping.”

“Very helpful, Doom and Gloom!”

“Well, it was your fault!”

“And you didn’t have to tell him that!”

“So,” Logan interrupts, voice calm but so icy that the others shiver, “let me make sure I understood this right. You found my notes and instead of trusting me and my ability to decide for myself, your first thought was that I was some damsel in distress that needed rescuing? And in your attempt to be the heroes once again you invaded my privacy as well?!” He continually got louder and louder, clearly very much angry.

“Logan, calm down, we just-“ Patton tries to interject but Logan continues, probably not even noticing that the other had spoken.

“You trust me so little, that you cannot even consider that I make decisions for my own well-being without consulting you? After pushing me aside again and again, you concluded that I cannot take care of myself? I have listed reasons for my decision in the letter I left you. Did you even consider those? Or did you assume that I would continue to let you figuratively walk all over me?” Logan takes a few deep breaths, the others stunned into silence. Once he feels like he is back in control of himself, the logical side continues, in his normal speaking voice.

“To me it is obvious that our current co-existence is neither beneficial to Thomas nor ourselves. We continue to figuratively turn in circles and no issues are truly being resolved. We all are stressed out, which makes finding a compromise even more unlikely. I had discussions on this topic with both Janus and Remus, as well as smaller conversations with all of you, if you cared to remember. And the conclusion I reached in the end was that we needed to take a step back and reevaluate. So, in order to do that, I asked Remus to help me arrange a place to stay for a few days to give us all time to reflect. He ended up inviting me here, to his library and I decided to extend my original idea into a vacation. I assure you, this all happened through my own volition.” With his arms crossed, he stares at the others, apparently awaiting an answer. Patton was the first to find his voice.

“We’re so sorry, kiddo. To us it was just a very sudden turn of events and we panicked. We should have trusted you more.”

“I trust him!” Roman huffs. “It’s Deceit and my brother that I don’t trust!” He points a finger accusingly towards Janus, who had continued to silently watch from the side and now raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Roman addresses Logan directly. “You said you talked with them about your plan but how do you know that it wasn’t part of theirs all along?!”

“Their plan to do what exactly?”

“To drive us apart, obviously! Ever since that snake showed up, we keep fighting! It must be his fault; he wants us to not trust each other so that he can influence Thomas!” Roman’s rant was undermined by his inability to truly raise his voice and none of the others seem convinced. Not even Virgil. Logan sighs.

“I understand that Janus’ past action have hurt you, Roman, but you need to accept that he is not the villain you make him out to be. He is doing his best to protect Thomas, as we all do. And he is not always in the right, none of us are. As much as I hate admitting it, my plans and wishes for Thomas are not always the answer either, which is why I try to incorporate your suggestions into my planning. But since you all seem to refuse to acknowledge my contributions in the same way, Thomas ends up neglecting his responsibilities. I would not let Janus make all the decisions, but he deserves to voice his opinions as much as the rest of us.”

“But he lured you away!”

“As I’ve already said, the decision was mine alone. Janus was the one who brought the idea of a vacation up to me first, that is true, but I was the one to decide to ask Remus for help and not discuss it with you beforehand.”

“And why didn’t you?” Virgil chimes in. Logan glances at him before turning his eyes toward the sky.

“I was trying to avoid this exact conversation. I am tired of justifying myself to you all. I needed a break, somewhere you cannot easily get to. As I’m sure you have noticed on your way here, this library is exactly what I was looking for. I am frustrated, maybe even angry with you. I raised my voice against you earlier, which I did not want to do but I just cannot hold back anymore. I need this distance from you for a while. I need to sort out my” – he stops and bites his lips for a moment before continuing – “feelings and I do not have the room or time to do so properly while in the mindscape with you all. I had hoped that I would be able to explain this to you when I came back but you couldn’t wait, apparently.”

“And you expect us to trust them in the meantime?” Roman growls, again pointing towards Janus and then down towards the river where Remus disappeared to. Logan glares at him.

“No, Roman. I expect you to trust me for once. I can take care of myself, I can defend myself against your brother and I can do so better than you, as we all have seen before.” Roman goes red in the face and tries to retort, but Patton holds him back.

“Enough. Logan’s right, we’re in the wrong here.”

“But padre-!”

“No buts, mister.” A giggle is heard from down below. “We jumped to conclusions and came here without permission. Logan is allowed to make his own choices and while I’m not happy about it either, we should trust him.” He pats Roman on the shoulder before turning back to Logan. “Then I hope you have fun, and we’ll see you soon, okay?” He said it with a smile, but Logan frown deepens.

“Stop patronizing me, Patton. I am the same age as you and it’s demeaning. I do not need your permission to stay here.”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I- “ Patton stutters, embarrassed and not able to meet Logan’s eyes. Virgil sighs.

“Let’s just get out of here. We all have a lot to think about, apparently.” Roman clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue. Patton nods and stares at the ground. “Hope you have a nice break, Lo. See ya.”

“That is the plan. Please leave now,” is all Logan says before turning away and going back to his book. Janus claps his hands together, gathering the attention of the others.

“Follow me, there is a shortcut out of here.”

“Let me guess, it only works one way?” Roman huffs, his voice still quieter than he’d like. The effect would likely only disappear once he’s out of Remus’ territory.

“Very clever, my prince,” Janus says and claps his hands again, this time in mock applause. “100 points for Gryffindor.” Roman glares at him but even he has lost the will to continue their arguments.

The group makes their way back in silence, through the jungle, down a hidden elevator off to the right of the gallery, out a side door of the building and back towards the mindscape. Patton is the only one who glances back towards Logan before he is obscured by the foliage of the jungle, but the logical side is already back on the chaise longue, drinking his still hot beverage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Due to the sounds still being muted, Logan could clearly hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator, signaling the departure of the others. With a sigh he puts the book down that he had only pretended to read. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes tiredly. What an ordeal this has been. After setting his glasses back in place, he takes another sip of his tea – which never cools thanks to Remus’ powers. Speaking off, wet slapping sounds reverberate through the air as the Duke makes his way over to Logan, dripping wet from his impromptu bathing session.

“So, how is Bruce?”

“Fine! He tried to bite my leg off, but he only got a few scraps of flesh!”

“Are you going to heal it or do you want me to bandage it?” Remus grins and with a snap he removes his damaged pants, at least from mid-thigh down. He knows Logan’s comfort zones and nudity wasn’t one of them. At least not yet. The logical side sighs as he summons a first aid kit. “Why am I not surprised?”

“’Cause you know I like it when you bondage me!”

“You mean ‘bandage me’, correct?”

“I know what I said.” Logan rolls his eyes and starts examining and dressing Remus’ wounds which, while bleeding, were all pretty superficial. For a few moments, he worked in silence, but as usual with Remus around, that didn’t last long.

“Felt good, right?”

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

“Pff, don’t bullshit me, Lolo. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Fine, but I do not wish to comment on whether I found it satisfactory or not.”

“You can be such a prude.”

“That may very well be, but I do not see how that relates to our topic.”

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

“I am… unsure.” Logan finishes dressing the last wound, cleans the kit up before vanishing it away. Then he sits next to Remus with a sigh. “I do feel a bit better, having said what needed to be said but I also feel like I was too harsh with them.” Remus hums a moment before answering.

“Nah, I think they needed to hear it, ‘specially Daddy-o. He’s been treating not only you but Virgin as well like kids and he needs to stop or you’ll never get anywhere. Breaking out of your mold is exactly what you need, and they need to accept that.” Logan nods along but doesn’t look all that convinced.

“I am aware, but it still feels” – he grimaces at the word – “weird. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“And that’s fine, Specs! You only just accepted that you have feelings, it’s gonna take a bit to figure them out. And dear Tomathy is in a weird place at the moment anyway, so it’s double confusing.”

“I am exhausted.”

“No wonder. Wanna take a nap?”

“Are you going to dry off first?”

“Ugh, fine. But only for you, Nerdy Wolverine!”

26 notes · View notes

canvas-the-florist · 3 years

Text

The Store Doesn’t Have Butter

Ship: Romantic Moceit, Platonic DLAMPR (they’re all just friends, y’know?)

Warnings: Temporary main character death, blood (not in detail), swearing, vague jokes about sex, guns, injuries, suffocation mention, car accident, depictions of a depressive episode, food, there is a lot of death in this one folks be safe :)

Summary: Patton’s just having a day filled with surprises and mishaps! But he won’t let that stop him from having a good time.

Word Count: 10.4K

Patton wakes up to a happy song playing on his phone and his husband asleep next to him. He stopped the alarm, sitting up and stretching. Janus mumbled and turned to his side to look up at Patton tiredly. Patton greeted him with a smile and a kiss on the forehead, going to get out of bed to start the day. Janus grabbed his arm softly, almost complaining incoherently.

“We do this every morning, love. Can’t I just go make breakfast without you fussing about?” He asked as he reached for his glasses with his free hand and put them on.

Janus let go of Patton, squinting his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He sat up, letting the blankets fall off his chest and onto his lap. “We have never had this conversation before.”

“Sure, Jan.” With one last kiss on the cheek, Patton sat up and got dressed. Janus slowly followed suit. Patton brushed out his curls and grabbed his head of hair to get a short ponytail. The shorter hairs would fall out, which Janus would call adorable, but it annoyed Patton greatly. The compromise was a few brightly colored barrettes. Janus fixed up his own hair beside him. “Dang Janus, I think we look pretty good today!”

Janus raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Yes, sure. Very fetching.” He looked like he wanted to say more but was cut off by an alarm on his watch. Janus put on his hat and walked out to the front door. “I must be off dear! If I don’t return by seven, assume that I have been kidnapped by my horrible fellow employees.”

Patton leaned against the wall next to the door. “Don’t be mean! It can’t be that bad to work with Roman and Logan, can it?”

His eyes turned dark from whatever he had experienced. “It really can.” Janus lightened up and opened the door. “Well, goodbye Patton! Remember to buy butter!”

The door closed and Patton was left with his own devices. He started by watering the plants, feeding the cat, feeding the turtle, drinking a glass of water, and feeding that murder of crows that started following the couple around a few months ago. Patton sat down on the concrete of the patio in the backyard. A few crows dropped random shiny things before flying off. He watched for a moment before picking them up, hoping to make an interesting necklace from them. Patton dropped them in a small plastic bag before moving to other things he needed to do. He didn’t have work on Mondays, so that’s when he preferred to do groceries and other errands.

It was slightly windy out, causing Patton’s cardigan to drift updraft. He gave the world a smile before walking around. A plane went by, supposedly going down towards the airport. He saw a woman chasing a dog with a leash running wild and helped her out. A group of kids were walking to school. And then he reached the grocery store. Patton went in only needing four things: Butter, bread, eggs, and bagels. He left with seven. They were out of butter too. Walking out, the wind seemed to have simmered down which he was very grateful for.

The walk back was always more frustrating. People were going to their jobs or having a day out with their families. Which meant doing the ten minute walk home with easily squishable foods was a lot more difficult. Patton was humming a song to himself when a biker collided with him, dropping the food.

“Ah, sorry man!” The person apologized.

“It’s okay!” Patton reassured, helping them up. “It’s just food. Are you alright though? That was quite the fall!”

“Oh- yeah! That was nothing.” They grabbed their bike. “Sorry about the eggs though. Have a good one!”

“You too!” Patton looked down at the food. The breads would be fine but half of the eggs had cracked and spilled over everything. He took out the carton and threw it away in the nearest trash can he could find before heading home. The cat lovingly named, Ladle, mewed at him loudly begging for attention. Janus didn’t want Ladle at first, insisting that Patton’s cat allergy was something important, but she quickly made him love her. Patton gave her a few scratches under her chin before sitting down on the couch. Ladle jumped up next to him before making her way to sleep on the windowsill. “Gosh Ladle, today has been an ordeal!”

She ignored him but he didn’t really mind. Talking to her was really just a thing for himself. Patton took a breath and decided to make lunch. Despite knowing that Janus’s lunch break wasn’t actually two hours long, Patton knew he would be on the bar stool for that duration before returning to work late. The door opened up and Patton finished making the second sandwich. Just on time.

“Hey dear! You really need to stop skipping work for-” Patton stopped as he looked up. “Oh, Roman! I didn’t expect to see you here…”

The man was covered in blood and seemed shell shocked. Roman looked over at Patton who was taking off his apron and getting a rag wet under the sink. “Pat… I’m so sorry.” Patton’s face fell before he continued but blinked away any fear and started cleaning up Roman’s face. “Logan and I, we tried to stop what happened but… Janus died.”

Patton clenched his fist around the rag and put it to his side, dropping it to the floor. He took a breath in but it broke as he felt his face warm under tears. Ladle meowed loudly in concern but Patton ignored it. Roman sat him down on the couch and hugged him. The rest of the day was a blur. He vaguely remembered letting Roman borrow some of his clothes so he could shower and clean up. Patton spent the rest of the day with a cat on his chest and the cucumber sandwiches completely forgotten.

Eventually Roman got Patton to drink some water and left him alone in the dark. Patton stared up at the ceiling. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his face left evidence of his sobbing. None of it felt real. It was supposed to be fine. But the problems kept coming. Ladle jumped off his chest and he made his way to the bed. The bed sheets were still messy from that morning. Patton collapsed down on his husband’s side of the bed and surrounded himself with the comforter. The wind was almost completely gone so the only sounds outside were people’s dogs and a few birds. He turned to lay on his back and fell asleep.

Patton wakes up to a happy song playing on his phone and his husband asleep next to him. He gasps and shoots upward with a start. Breathing heavily, Patton grabbed Janus’s arm and checked to see if he was real. Janus let out a noise of complaint and pulled the blanket over his head. Patton took in a deep breath and smiled through his tears. Just a nightmare.

“We can’t do this every morning, love. Let’s go get some breakfast, okay?” Patton put on his glasses and Janus sat up, letting the blankets fall from his head to his lap.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Janus stated sarcastically. “We’ve never had this conversation before.” Patton blinked in confusion but let it slide.

“Whatever you say, Janus.” His voice hurt from the crying. Patton gave his husband a kiss on the cheek and got out of bed to get ready for the day. He did his hair in a short ponytail and put in the barrettes to get the small curls out of his face. Janus fixed up his hair beside him. Patton couldn’t shake the dream however much he wanted to. “Janus? Do you ever get bad dreams about me… getting hurt?”

Janus looked at him curiously. “How hurt are you talking about?”

“I-” Patton was cut off by the alarm on Janus’s watch. He put on his hat but looked back at Patton with concern. He gave a smile. “Go to your job, we can talk at… lunch.”

They both walked to the front door. Janus kissed Patton briefly. “Okay, dear. If I don’t return by seven, assume that I have been kidnapped by my horrible fellow employees.”

“Hey!” Patton said, ignoring the feeling of déjà vu. “Be nice and be safe. Roman and Logan aren’t that bad.”

His eyes turned dark from whatever he had experienced. “It really can.” Janus lightened up and opened the door. “Well, goodbye Patton! Remember to buy butter!” The door slammed and Patton already knew that the grocery store probably didn’t have butter. He didn’t know why he suspected that but took a deep breath. Patton had things to do today that wasn’t about moping.

He started by watering the plants, feeding the cat, feeding the turtle, drinking a glass of water, and feeding that murder of crows that started following the couple around a few months ago. Patton sat down on the concrete of the patio in the backyard. A few crows looked at him and called in concern before dropping off shiny objects and flying away. He watched for a moment, confused, before picking them up. Patton dropped them in a small plastic bag before moving to other things he needed to do. It was time to do errands but he wasn’t sure that it was going to go well. It was windy outside and at the moment people were heading to their jobs and school so the world was going to be really busy. But he did anyway, like he needed to prove something to himself.

It was slightly windy out, causing Patton’s cardigan to drift updraft. A plane went by, supposedly going down towards the airport. He saw a woman chasing a dog with a leash running wild and helped her out after a second of confusion. A group of kids were walking to school. There wasn’t any butter and he shouldn’t have expected it there. Patton stared at the empty space before buying the other things he needed: eggs, bread, and bagels.

Patton looked around with caution as he walked back, carefully weaving between families and people down the street. He was halfway home when he heard the bike. Patton turned and saw someone about to run into him so he took a step back and tumbled into the grass, hearing the eggs break and scatter. The biker stopped and helped him up.

“Ah, sorry man!” The person apologized.

“It’s… It’s okay! Are you okay?” Patton asked.

The biker looked at them quizzically. “What?”

Right, they were fine. Patton gave a smile. “Oh never mind. Have a good day!”

The biker got back on their bike. “Sorry about the eggs. Have a good one!” They zoomed past him and Patton blinked away all his thoughts, forgetting to respond. This didn’t just feel like déjà vu. He finished walking home and put away the bread and bagels.

Ladle meowed for attention and curled around Patton’s shoulders. He pet her idly as he went to sit down at the couch. It was almost time for lunch. Patton thought back to the dream and took in a shaky breath. He had to make sure. With a moment’s hesitation, he called Janus’s burner phone. Patton knew that Janus said to stop spamming him with pictures of Ladle to his burner, because it could be bad and they could be caught with whatever illegal thing he was doing… But Patton needed to know. To warn him something was about to happen.. Probably.

“Patton? Why did you call me? You know that you can’t just-”

“Janus, something bad is going to happen. You need to be safe or hide or stop whatever you’re doing!” Patton was trying to stay calm but he kept remembering Roman’s expression and crumbling to the floor. He didn’t even know what happened.

He heard Janus say something incoherent to someone else on the other end of the line before responding directly. “You’re not normally like this Patton. Why am I in danger, exactly?”

The only issue with that was that Patton didn’t know the answer to the question. This would be so much easier if Patton knew what the fuck was going on. He felt his throat dry as tears welled up. “I… You just are. Please.”

“Okay, dear. I’ll be there so-” Janus was cut off by his own screaming. Patton stood up suddenly, yelling Janus’s name and got no response. The line went dead after a minute. He threw his phone at the wall, causing Ladle to jump off his shoulders and he stared at the hole he just created. It got blurrier the more he cried. Patton heard the door open with a bloody Roman who looked just as bad as Patton remembered from the dream, if it even was one.

Roman sat on the floor next to him and gave him a hug. “I’m so sorry, Patton, I’m so sorry.” This mantra was repeated for hours before silence fell between the two of them. The room darken around them and Patton finally got up and ushered Roman to the bathroom to clean off the blood and take a shower. He got out in Patton’s oversized clothes and watched Patton as he cleaned up the floor. “Do… you need to be alone right now or should I stay with you?”

The silence was filled by the chirping of birds and people’s dogs. Patton shook his head. “Please don’t leave me alone right now.” His voice was small but he wasn’t sure how much he was actually feeling at the moment. Roman and Patton decided to sleep on the couch together with Ladle nestled by Patton’s stomach. Their backs would kill them tomorrow but that wouldn’t matter. Janus died. Patton looked at Roman’s head before taking off his glasses and closing his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t dream.

Patton wakes up to a happy song playing on his phone and his husband asleep next to him. He opened his eyes tiredly, not bothering to stop the alarm. He looked over to Janus and frowned. He finally understood what was happening, and Patton was pretty sure that he hated the answer. With a sigh he turned off the alarm and decided full heartedly that he was not going to let Janus die today, however many todays that would take.

He grabbed Janus’s arm and pulled him into a hug. Okay, he would save his husband after getting a little support. Janus flickered open his eyes in confusion but hugged back. They stayed there for a while before Patton let go to sit up and put on his glasses.

“As much as I love your affection, this seems a bit early in the morning, even for you.” Janus pointed out. Patton kept putting on his clothes, half ignoring Janus, just trying to concoct a plan that would save him. Janus got off the bed and went in front of him as he finished putting on his shirt. “Patton. What is happening today?”

Patton looked at him with a determined smile and fear in his eyes. “You’re going to go to work and I’m going to take care of all the things here. Now go! We need to get ready for the day.”

Janus complied, pretending to shrug off Patton’s demeanor and put on his clothes. Patton did up his hair in a short ponytail and 4 colorful barrettes to hide the short curly hairs that were left. Janus barely finished his hair as his watch beeped. He gave Patton a kiss on the cheek before saying, “I must be off dear! If I don’t return by seven, assume that I have been kidnapped by my horrible fellow employees.”

“Yeah, mhm, don’t be rude to them. Be safe!” Patton responded walking out to the front doorway.

Janus gave a look but opened the door. “Well, goodbye Patton! Remember to buy butter!” The door closed and Patton took out his phone to text Remus. He needed a car and someone who wouldn’t ask questions. Remus was good at both of those. As he awaited the reply he quickly went through all his chores including feeding several animals and watering the plants. Remus sent back a reply with many curses and agreed to it. Wonderful.

With that a plan was in action! Follow husband to work and find out how he keeps dying and prevent it! Easy. Patton heard a loud car horn sound repeatedly outside his house and immediately knew that Remus had arrived. He walked outside, wearing his cardigan on his arms instead of around his shoulders to show that he was serious about it. Remus smiled and moved to the passenger seat instead of getting out completely.

“Uh, Remus?” Patton got into the driver’s seat and looked at his friend awkwardly. “I thought I mentioned wanting to do this alone?”

Remus put on his seat belt. “You did, but I’m ignoring you, fuckface! Whatever the fuck you’re doing seems like a fun time and I am extremely bored.” Patton scrunched his nose and pushed up his glasses before starting the car. He knew exactly how Remus was when he was bored and wasn’t a fan of dealing with it. Perhaps someone who kind of knew Janus’s line of work could be helpful. They started driving after Patton set up a GPS route to the workplace. Remus looked at it and back at him. “We’re visiting J-anus and my brother? OH! Are you going to prank them?! It’d be so exciting to set the entire building on fire!”

Patton’s hands tightened on the wheel and glanced at his friend. “No, you know I don’t condone killing people with arson. We’re here to hopefully prevent something that’s going to happen.”

“What’s going to happen? Murder without arson?”

He stopped at a stop sign before making a left turn. Patton shrugged as he corrected the wheel. “I don’t actually know. That’s what I’m going to find out though.” It couldn’t hurt to be honest with Remus, seeing as he didn’t know if the next day was even going to exist in the first place. With a few gross conversations that led to vague responses from Patton, the two finally reached their destination. To find out what the fuck was going to happen to Janus. They walked up to the front building, Patton had a smile on his face that was apparently intimidating according to the reaction of the receptionist. “Hi, sorry to disturb you I was just wondering if Janus Lyre-Hart is in the office today? I’m his husband.”

“Sorry sir... He’s, he’s not actually here today? He was sent on a field mission with two others to deal with an issue with the company.” She stated nervously.

“Where did they go?” Remus asked with more seriousness than Patton had heard in several years. They were told the location and drove there together. Remus had seemed to gage the seriousness of the situation and adjusted SOME of his actions accordingly. “Do you think you’re going to find their entrails all over here or something?” Some actions.

Patton sighed and slammed the car door shut, looking around the place. Just a bunch of buildings. The place seemed completely normal. He noticed a few crows over an old blue wooden bar that didn’t appear significant. Patton started walking towards it and Remus followed, taking huge steps to keep up. The door creaked open and a few of the birds flew away. Patton peaked in and Remus knelt over to peak through underneath Patton’s head. The place was empty. The two stepped in.

“This isn’t as planned out as I’d like.” Patton said, even though his real thoughts were ‘I can try again tomorrow anyway’. Remus walked around, kicking over an empty trash can. It fell over making a loud sound against the floor. Patton flinched but noticed something weird with the floorboards. He kneeled down. “Huh. Hey Remus? I think we just found a trapdoor.”

“Then let’s open it!” Remus exclaimed, and he slammed his fingers around the corners, pulling up. Patton bit a protest and helped. The door lifted and slammed down on, the force of which made a wave of dust fly up. Patton coughed before looking down. There was a metal ladder on one of the walls, small rectangular slots lined up evenly all the way down to the bottom of the tunnel; it was much lower down than he expected. Remus shoved past Patton and started climbing down. He looked back up. “Come on! I wanna see what’s down here! Like a sex dungeon or just a dungeon dungeon! With worms!”

The two reached the bottom and walked until they reached a point with two turns they could go. Remus mentioned splitting up but Patton thought that it was a bad idea. So instead, the two made a right turn right into Logan, Roman, and Janus running rapidly.

“We have to go!” Roman exclaimed, grabbing Remus and Patton. They all turned and started running through to the left turn. Patton tried to look back but Logan kept his head forward. They eventually got out of the tunnels in a different exit. Janus shoved everyone into the car while Logan started the engine. Patton put on his seat belt quietly. Roman turned to look at them from the passenger seat. “What the hell are you guys doing here?!”

“Looking for you shitheads!” Remus exclaimed. “Patton said that something bad was going to happen!”

Janus looked out the window of the speeding car and grimaced. He got out a gun and Patton fought himself to keep his eyes open. It was almost lunch time, it was almost time. “They’re tailing us, Logan!” Janus turned to Patton with softness in his eyes, and his tone became more controlled. “Why do you think something bad is going to happen?”

“Does this not count as bad to you, Janus?!” Patton exclaimed, Remus pushed his back down as a bullet hit the back window. Janus looked at the glass and shrugged. Patton groaned and leaned back on Remus’s shoulder before giving a glance to the back window. There were a few nicely dressed people with guns and were shooting sporadically at the car. “Seriously?! Jan, I can’t explain what’s going to happen because I wasn’t here originally but you have to be careful!”

“I am doing my best to be safe dear, but I also need to do my job.” Janus said coldly before opening the window and shooting back. Logan made a swift turn and Patton grabbed Remus’s hand for comfort. He felt scared and angry at the same time. Janus needed to trust him on this but only Patton even knew what was going on. Next thing he knew, Roman’s arm got shot. He screamed, dropping his weapon out the car window and leaned back on his seat. Patton didn’t see a gun wound in the dreams, so this happened because of the changes he made. The guilt didn’t have time to sink in when one of the bullets hit the car wheels. Logan cursed under his breath as the car swerved and narrowly avoided a tree; it instead flipped on its side. Patton swallowed an ongoing panic in order to unbuckle his seat belt and helped Remus and Janus out of the car. Logan and Roman got caught up with the airbags. Logan quickly unbuckled and maneuvered his way out.

Patton coughed and looked at the car. “So… what now? How do we get Roman out of there?”

“Well, we can’t move him because if he broke something that could ruin his vital organs or bones permanently.” Logan hummed, nonchalantly pulling Remus back from the car. “I think that the best thing we can do now is leave immediately.”

Remus pulled back from Logan’s grasp sharply. “And just leave him here? He could die!”

“We could also die, Remus!” Janus cut in, shaking. Patton froze up, staring at the door. He had a feeling it was already too late. Janus kept yelling, the cars started arriving and the gunshots got louder. But he couldn’t turn his eyes away from the car. It was on its side and even though Patton couldn’t see him, he imagined Roman’s pain. He couldn’t move. “-Atton! You have to get up! Patton! I’m not looping you into this!”

The others had run off, leaving Roman in the car, but Janus was dragging Patton as he blinked back into hearing others again. But it was too late, Patton heard Janus cry out and looked up to him with concern. “Janus? Are you okay?”

He shook his head, tears welling up and Janus hugged him. Patton looked down and saw blood seeping into his shirt. He looked up at his husband and smiled. “I’ll be okay! I’ll be better next time. You’ll be okay next time!” The light sky hurt so he closed his eyes. He felt Janus’s arms trembling around him and wanted to comfort him. But Patton felt like he was turning into static. “Next time will be better, I promise.”

Patton woke up to the same cheerful song on his phone, tired but ready to try again. He sat up and examined his chest. It looked normal and his breathing wasn’t hindered anymore but his brain wanted to believe he was in pain. Patton looked over at Janus, who was breathing normally too. He wasn’t even crying. Janus was okay, Roman was okay, he was okay. Right? If Patton just learned how to do better this time everything would turn out fine. So, he decided not to wake up Janus. Patton closed the blinds on the window and slipped back into bed and cuddled into Janus’s side. Even if his husband did wake up, he tended not to care about following what his job wanted him to do anyways. Whatever that job actually was.

Time passed and eventually Janus did leave. Patton tried to come with him but it didn’t work. And Patton wouldn’t consider himself as stubborn as Janus was. So he let him leave and got on his bicycle to follow him. Patton had visited one of the work locations before, for a potluck or Halloween party usually set up by Roman. It was a secretive place but loved to pretend it was just a normal business.

He walked in and saw Virgil. Which was a bit unusual, seeing as he didn’t actually work with the others either. Not like Patton had much room to judge if he liked to judge. He gave a smile and waved. “Hey, kiddo! What are you up to?”

Virgil waved awkwardly as he walked over, his other hand in his hoodie. “Sup, Pat. Logan wanted to ask something from me I guess? He was being vague about this place, as always, but I just finished. Why are you here?”

He hated lying and Virgil hated being lied to. Patton wasn’t exactly sure how to explain his situation without sounding like he was joking or really sleep deprived. He gave a glance to the receptionist and looked back at his friend. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here. But I am having quite a long day, if you want to talk about it over ice cream with me?”

Patton internally high fived himself for his wonderful pun that no one would get but him.

...

“So, we’re stuck in a loop and every time Janus dies when you don’t do anything but Roman died when you tried to mess with it?” Patton nodded nervously. Virgil thought it through while taking a bite of ice cream from his paper bowl. “That sounds like a personal hell if I’ve ever heard one. Especially for you. But from what you’ve said, the loop will probably end when you manage to save everyone. I’m not sure how exactly you’ll do that but I could help out.”

“You… aren’t freaking out as much as I thought you would.” Patton knew that wasn’t phrased as well as he wanted to, but he was curious about how Virgil felt about everything going on.”

Virgil put down the plastic spoon and made eye contact with Patton. He noticed just how shaky the man was. “Oh I’m absolutely panicking right now, but it’s probably better to deal with it when tomorrow comes or something. Nothing matters right now and that is terrifying to think about. My actions are actually useless. It’s not like I’ll remember what happened right now anyway, right?”

He shook his head. “So far I think I’m the only one who knows about it.” Patton decided he’d just not tell Virgil in the next loop, he didn’t see his dark strange son daily so that wasn’t an issue. Patton didn’t want to give Virgil a panic attack every single time they talked on this day. “What should I do about it? I’ve tried coming to help, or preventing it from happening, or doing nothing, but I’m still here.” Alone.

“Well, putting my pessimism aside for a moment,” Virgil started. “You could tell Janus, Roman, and Logan about what’s happening so they can avoid doing this specific job or whatever until they have a better fleshed out plan. Or… I don’t know, figure out what they’re doing and get to it first.” He opened his mouth before closing it again, and Patton guessed that he probably had another idea that would be upsetting to hear.

Patton leaned forward. “What’s the last one, Virgil?”

“Nothing!” Virgil exclaimed. He calmed down, letting go of the ice cream bowl. “It’s just that maybe you’re supposed to… accepthisdeathandworkthroughthegrief- I don’t know it’s stupid!”

“Oh…” Virgil looked away with his arms crossed. Patton looked down at his now melted ice cream. Roman would be at his house by now but he wasn’t quite sure that it mattered. He looked back up at Virgil, trying not to cry. “I mean I can try out the other things first, right? I really don’t want anyone I love to die if I can prevent it somehow.”

“I know, Pat.” No, you don’t, Patton thought bitterly. He felt guilty but he knew he stood by his thinking no matter how rude it was.

The next time he tried to just wake up earlier, which worked just as well as you would expect. So he called Roman as soon as he woke up instead and told him everything. “So that’s why you shouldn’t do anything about whatever the hell you found earlier today. It’s doomed to fail, and I believe in you kiddo but this absolutely isn’t going to work.”

There was a sigh from the other side of the screen. “Patton, you had a weird dream about a time loop? It happens sometimes, Padre. Janus and I aren’t going to die. Remus doesn’t even work here and you don’t even know where we’re going-”

“Yes I do Roman!” He fought back. One of Virgil’s suggestions was to figure out what the others were doing and to prevent it or solve it before the others did. Patton needed to gather information for that to even work though. “You’re going to an old abandoned blue building that used to be a bar! There’s at least two entrances to the tunnels underneath it and you had a direct route about a mile away from the bar.” Patton sighed, it was hard convincing people about this much of a reach. So, it was time for a different approach. “Look, maybe it is a weird dream but it’s not nothing. Can you at least tell me what you found so I know that you guys are going to be okay?”

He hummed, contemplating for a moment before sighing. “I can’t do that, Patton. Logan and Janus are already on my case about so many things I’m not adding another to the list. We’re going to be okay today, I promise that.” Patton clenched his phone as his friend kept talking. “I’ll visit you after we’re done today! Does that sound good, padre?”

“It sounds great Roman, see you..” Patton responded, ending the call.

True to his word, Patton did hear the door creak open. Roman cried into his arms while Patton just considered what he could do next.

“Logan, is there ANY way you could do what you’re doing today later?” Patton asked, while Remus was walking through the office idly. Logan gave him a confused look as if to indicate that he wanted more information. “I’m going to be straightforward here-”

“Good luck attempting that.” Remus cut in. Logan and Patton stared at him for a moment. He shrugged. “Just saying. Keep talking about your psychic powers or whatever.”

“I’m going to be CLEAR about this.” Patton mended. “Whatever happens at your job today will end with Janus being shot and killed. I can’t really explain why, but you need to do this tomorrow, or plan something. I don’t know! This is really dangerous and I want everyone to be okay.”

There was a moment of silence between the three of them. Logan sat in his seat, thinking everything over while Remus had paused reorganizing the bookshelf to spell ‘penis’ with the first letters of the book titles. It was so silent that Patton could hear the shuffling of people walking through the halls, and the caws of birds that suspiciously sounded like crows. He took a breath and looked at the ceiling to keep himself from crying. Patton knew that he looked like a mess. He was wearing his cardigan instead of around his shoulders and he was so focused on leaving as fast as possible that his hair was completely neglected.

Logan cleared his throat. “It would be unwise for us to completely postpone our mission today.” Patton sniffed and Logan continued through seemingly unaffected. “But I suppose it would be wise to make sure we have bulletproof vests and show up more inconspicuously than we previously planned.”

“Thank you, Lo.” Patton’s voice was quiet, like a sudden breeze could shatter it.

Patton and Remus were ushered out. Remus suggested they go out to sushi to wait and see how it went. There was a place close by and Remus enjoyed eating raw meats. This was a type of food the two frequently compromised on. The drive was quiet if you tuned out whatever loud artist Remus played in his car. Patton didn’t know them but did know that they swore way more than he would normally listen to.

When the car stopped Patton didn’t move or do anything. Remus reminded him to unbuckle and get out of the car before he locked him in. He talked about not wanting his best friend to suffocate without any air and getting trapped by the safety lock completely and having to resort to eating his arm. No matter how grotesque his metaphors were, Patton appreciated knowing that Remus was there for him. He took everything Patton said in stride, not mocking or belittling him. He wasn’t a serious man and he didn’t have to be. Remus was passionate and would do anything for the people he cared about, regardless of how dangerous. Which was exactly why he had to make sure Remus and everyone else survived to some sort of future that didn’t exist yet.

The two picked up their sushi and ate there. Well, Remus did. Patton picked at his a little while listening to the ambient noises of the restaurant. “Do you think they’re going to be okay today?”

“I have no fucking clue.” Remus said. He paused to drink some of the soy sauce from the bottle. “But they stand a better chance with you fighting for them to finally use all those brain cells they’re hogging. I mean, do you hear that they weren’t even planning on wearing bullet proof vests? Do they want to become rag dolls at the end of this?”

Patton snorted, tears brimming his eyes. “I guess I really ragged on Logan, huh?”

Remus took all of Patton’s sushi in his hands and smooshed them together before eating the entire thing. With the food gone it was finally time to leave. When they arrived at the house there was already a car there. Roman’s car. Patton ran into the house to see Roman on the ground, looking very bruised with his hands covered in blood.

“What happened?” He demanded.

“Patton?” Roman asked weakly, looking up at him. “Patton! I’m so sorry, Logan and I, we tried to stop what happened but… Janus died.”

His mind was racing, hearing Remus close the door behind him but he ignored it. “How?”

“He was… umm, stabbed to death. Are you okay?”

Roman’s question was ignored. Patton sat down at the table, turned away from the twins. Stabbed. Not shot. Of course they had multiple types of weapons on them. That was an oversight he couldn’t do again. He’d find a way to save them. They can bring their own guns or knives or they could be warned about what their enemies had prepared for them. Patton’s heart was racing as his hands gripped his head. He’d know what to do.

Patton watched expectedly as Roman walked into the door. “They beat Janus to death.”

Logan went into Patton’s house holding tightly onto his bleeding leg, with his other arm against the wall to keep his balance. The two made eye contact. “Roman and Janus died when they shot the tires of the car and it crashed. I’m the only one who made it.”

“Janus was shot.”

“We just couldn’t save Logan I’m so sorry-”

“Roman was kidnapped and used against us. Janus thought they were bluffing about killing him but then they did.”

Janus died. Logan died. They all died and somehow Virgil found out before him. Roman and Janus died. Logan and Janus died. Janus died. Patton was pulling his hair out. Every time he woke up he had darker eye bags than the last time. He didn’t bother to watch as yet another one of his friends limped through the door at 3 PM on a sunny day ready to announce a tragedy.

“Patton-”

“Who died?” He asked, cutting him off. Patton looked up to see Janus. There was blood coming from his nose that was ignored and drying over his skin. It wasn’t a very common version of this day. He showed up sometimes but Janus was very frequently the one dead. “I already know someone got murdered, Jan. Please just tell me how so I can avoid it next time.”

“What? Next time-” Janus sputtered, shaking his head before looking at Patton. “What the fuck does that mean?! Roman got suffocated to death- why… Do you know what happened? Patton, what’s going on?”

A question so simple with a very difficult answer. Patton stood up to help Janus walk to a chair. Roman. Strangled. How could he warn them about that next time? Janus was talking as Patton continued to walk around the kitchen but he wasn’t listening. He wet a towel and started cleaning up Janus’s face. Janus shut up and Patton gave a tight lipped smile. “I know you aren’t going to believe me but you, Logan, and Roman have been dying every single day for me and I’m trying to make sure you’re all okay in the end. So, next time I’ll tell Logan about things to avoid doing that didn’t work out this specific time. As long as I mess with the timeline something different will happen. One of these days will turn out okay.”

Unless they don’t. Unless he really just has to accept it like Virgil said.

“So you’ve just been handed the world’s most traumatizing time loop?” Janus asked. Patton removed the bloody paper towel and threw it in the trash can. He nodded. “How long have you been stuck here? Just knowing that one of us dies?”

“I don’t know.” Patton answered honestly. He spent so much effort trying to save his friends he hadn’t bothered to keep track of time. Janus rested his hand on Patton’s arm for the littlest amount of comfort. Patton looked up at him with a sad smile, tears brimming his eyes. “What do I do? I can’t get you to stop, you won’t let me come with you, and I don’t want anyone to be hurt anymore.”

They both looked so hurt. Janus had bruises setting in just about everywhere and he winced whenever he made a movement too big or too fast. Patton just looked tired. So incredibly tired, as if he had woken up after a fitful night sleep decades ago and never went back to bed. Janus tried to say something but stopped himself. There was no clear cut answer. Why would there be? It was like he had said earlier, the world’s most traumatizing time loop and Patton was the only one with a ticket to the ride. How do you stop something that’s only goal is to make you suffer? He thought about what Virgil said and grimaced.

Patton fell into Janus’s lap and sobbed. This wasn’t fair, none of it was! And Virgil had to be right about everything. He had to let his husband die. Patton whispered his apologies over and over until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t figure out a way to save him; perhaps there wasn’t a way to save him at all.

Patton wakes up to a happy song playing on his phone and his husband asleep next to him. He didn’t stop the alarm, he didn’t do anything. Janus woke up with a yawn, only to see Patton staring blankly at the ceiling above him. The world felt devoid of life, like the more Patton looked, the world would pause before draining away before him. Janus gave him a shake, asking if he was okay, but Patton didn’t answer. It was no use. Nothing he did would work in the end anyways. Why try? Janus seemed more worried, not a common look on him. Patton looked him over and gave a smile. Would this be the last time he’d see him?

“Are you okay?” He asked, when Patton finally sat up. Patton gave him a hug and let go of it before he wouldn’t be able to. “Patton, do you need me to stay with you?”

“No, I’m okay.” The lie was breathed to life almost hesitantly. His voice felt raspy. Patton knew that this was the right thing to do, but it hurt so much. Why did it have to hurt so much? “Just, just go to work and I’ll be alright.”

So Janus did, and Patton was alright. Janus wasn’t. When Roman came to tell him of the news, Patton was still in bed on his husband’s side. Roman stayed after taking a shower, but his attempts to help were in vain. The world was draining away and there was nothing that could stop it. Roman was sleeping on the floor, holding Patton’s hand.

It kept repeating. Making Patton live the pain every single day, which wasn’t fair. He still cried when Roman would tell him that Janus died. He still made sure that Roman got cleaned up, but nothing changed. Patton couldn’t make it to yesterday, despite trying so hard to move on. Eventually he decided to keep up the routine he would normally have, trying to show the world that he was going to be okay, but that didn’t work either.

Nothing did.

He watered the plants, fed the cat and the turtle, had a glass of water, and hung out with that murder of crows that started following the couple around a few months ago. Patton threw some food at the ground in front of them before sitting down on the patio. He wasn’t really sure what to do. Going to the store probably wouldn’t be helpful, unless he managed to avoid the biker eventually. Janus was already at work and in danger already. Patton sighed and fell to his back. A crow cawed at him.

“What should I do?” He dragged his hands over his face. None of the birds responded, outside of the one that hopped onto his calf. Patton decided that was a sign to go grocery shopping, despite knowing they wouldn’t have all that’s on the list.

It was slightly windy out, causing Patton’s cardigan to drift updraft. A plane went by, supposedly going down towards the airport. He saw a woman chasing a dog with a leash running wild and helped her out. A group of kids were walking to school. And then he reached the grocery store. Patton went in only needing four things: Butter, bread, eggs, and bagels. He already knew they didn’t have butter, but put the rest in the shopping basket. Patton’s hand hovered over Janus’s favorite candy. He blinked slowly, taking a deep breath in and out, before throwing it into the basket. It wasn’t a horrible thing to indulge anyways.

Walking out, the wind had calmed down. He carefully carried his bags, skillfully dodging out of the way of the biker for the first time. Patton stopped walking to watch the person continue on, not knowing about the collision that had occurred between them before. The rest of the way was uneventful. He put away the groceries and decided to make something for Roman when he was going to stop by.

He made some sort of water based soup, Patton wasn’t sure which because he grabbed the one closest to him, only checking the label to make sure it wasn’t cream based. Last time he hadn’t, Roman got really sick. Just as Patton had finished, the door opened. He didn’t say anything and instead got a rag from a cupboard and turned on the hot water.

Roman limped in and leaned against the wall. “Pat, I’m so sorry.” Patton nodded silently, running the rag underneath the sink and started cleaning up the blood on Roman’s face. “Logan and I, we tried to stop what happened but… Janus died.”

Patton’s heart pinged in guilt, still feeling like he could do something. He took the rag off Roman’s face. “Yeah, I know. How about you go take a shower, Roman. You can borrow my clothes for tonight.” Roman had a confused expression but seemed too out of it to say anything. Patton took out some of his clothes, not able to go through Janus’s shirts. He set it outside the bathroom door and spent the rest of his time petting Ladle idly. None of this felt right.

It couldn’t be the right way to go about this, seeing as he awoke again with Janus next to him so many times after. But Patton didn’t know what he COULD do. He stood up a bit too quickly but ignored it. Patton decided he’d finally start putting up his hair again. Not that anyone would know how long he hadn’t bothered to but himself. It would just help. He put in the barrettes and stared at himself in the mirror for a few seconds. Sighing, Patton tied the cardigan to finish his look. Janus walked into the bathroom, brushing his incredibly long hair. He was dressed for work but had yet to grab his hat.

“Hey love, can we talk before you go to work?” Patton asked. Usually he’d be nervous about Janus misinterpreting his tone but currently things like that haven’t really mattered to him.

“Well that’s not ominous at all.” Janus replied as he nodded. He put his hair in a bun and put his hat on top. There was a strip of hair loose, highlighting the scarred side of the man’s face. The two walked to the living room. Upon seeing them, Ladle jumped off the couch and ran into the bedroom presumably to hide under something. “What did you need to talk about?”

Patton took a breath, taking in all the ways this conversation has been messed up before. “You can’t go to work today. I know what you’re going to say-”

“This day is really important,” Janus interjected while Patton said it at the same time as him with a sense of boredom. Janus narrowed his eyes. “Have you been hanging out with Remus more often? There’s no way you were able to copycat that well without practice.”

“Yeah, I guess you could call it practice if you wanted to.” Patton chuckled to himself. “But we’re getting distracted. If any of you guys, including Roman and Logan, go do the thing you need to do today you will die. It won’t be pleasant, and it will happen no matter how many precautions you decide to take. So please, take the day to plan this out better or something. But you can’t risk anything.”

Janus was very taken back but scoffed, to hide the fact he was worried. Patton knew that he wasn’t just going to give in without good reason to. He didn’t want to pull the ‘time loop’ card if he didn’t have to. If he could just move onto tomorrow with no one knowing what had happened he would be satisfied. “We are always careful, Patton. Why do you think today’s going to be any different? We haven’t died yet!”

“But you will! I don’t THINK today’s going to be different, I. KNOW. SO.” Patton was trying to stay as calm as possible, but it really sucked to do that. “If you want me to explain, I can, but it would be so much better for you just to trust me. Please.”

“Patton. I want to know what’s going on. Are you being threatened or something? Why do you believe we’re going to be hurt?” Janus asked.

He took a deep breath, Patton’s heart was breaking faster than his patience. “I’m not being threatened, Janus. I’m stuck. I’m stuck watching you die every single day, only learning when Roman comes into our house at 3 PM when I expected you to sneak out of your work place to eat food with me. And I can’t do anything about it or someone else I care about dies! So I’m stuck! Stuck knowing that it’s going to be windy today, that a biker will break the eggs I bought at the grocery store, and that I got other things there to compensate for the fact that the store doesn’t have butter!” His voice broke as he looked at Janus after he ranted loudly. “I’ve been on this day that it’s easier to focus on my small inconveniences instead of the fact that my husband dies today and I can’t do anything.”

Janus walked over to him, giving Patton a hug. Patton didn’t hug back but put his head on his chest. Everything was silent between the two of them. Janus rubbed circles into Patton’s back. Neither of them were crying. Patton had run out of tears for a long time, and Janus didn’t know enough to understand how horrible the situation was. After a few minutes, Patton pulled back. Janus looked at him, with undivided attention.

“Will you tell the others that the plan today has changed?” He asked. “I can’t let you go into danger. Not when I can do something about it.”

“At this point it would be stupid of me not to. Want to come with to make sure none of the other’s fuck up this day?” Janus suggested, Patton gave a weak smile. “I’ll work hard to not die today by planning ahead and having common sense. It might be quite difficult if your rants suggest anything.”

“Hey,” Patton interjected softly. “You have common sense! I’m not exactly sure how you die but you probably try very hard not to do it. Don’t degrade your worth, Janus.” It was ironic, seeing as how much Janus promoted taking care of yourself and your own self worth in general. Patton tried to get his normal energy but it fell short. He almost literally fell too, but Janus caught him and stood him back up. “I’ll… physically fight you.”

“Of course you will, let’s go tell the other’s okay?”

…

Patton watched as his friends huddled around Logan’s desk coming up with some sort of game plan. He was trying to listen but his exhaustion caught up to him and he mainly focused on staying awake. Roman gave him a concerned look before he kept talking. Clearly, the three were talking about him. The whole reason this was happening was because of Patton. He let Janus argue his points and kept his attention on staring at the small things on Logan’s bookshelf. It was uniform, organized by the author's last name. The only deviation being the small nick knacks and items that the other’s gave him over the years. Patton smiled, even though Logan didn’t see the purpose of the small toys, he still kept them. Things like this reminded Patton how much he loved his friends.

“Okay, what dangers are there that we aren’t prepared for?” Logan asked.

Janus thought for a moment, and looked at Patton. He just barely started listening again. “I wouldn’t really know. What about you, Patton?”

He looked up seeing all of them looking directly back. Patton took a breath. “Well, they have a whole range of weapons. If you aren’t immediately shot and manage to get into the car they’re going to shoot the tires. You could be strangled, hurt in the car wreck, manipulated into a situation where you could put someone else at risk…” Patton trailed off awkwardly. Logan, Roman, and Janus all made eye contact for a brief moment. Patton liked to imagine they could all talk to each other telepathically, even though Logan didn’t think that was logical.

“This seems like a lot,” Roman commented. “Are you sure that you’re not just overthinking every single thing that can go wrong? That sounds more like Virgil’s thing if we’re being real-”

Logan looked at him, confused. “Of course we’re being real, but I don’t see what that has to do with it.” Janus looked like he wanted to cut in but decided not to say anything, simply clearing his throat instead. “Roman the entire point of our job is to make sure we’re prepared for any given situation, why is that a problem?”

“Well, uh, it just-” Roman sputtered through his sentence. “Without taking chances and trying to plan everything out we’re not going to get anything done! How can we be expected to save anyone from danger if we spend all day just thinking about what COULD happen?”

“Without planning at all we’re not going to be able to save ourselves!” Janus argued back. “And if we die that’s not going to do anyone any good.”

He looked over at Patton with a small smile, signalling that he was going to stand up for his side of the argument, which was comforting. Janus was a very persuasive person. But in the end, Patton didn’t care what conclusion they went to as long as they lasted to the end of the day. Logan looked between his two coworkers and friends, sighing. “Well clearly we need a healthy balance instead. If we put too much weight on taking risks or preparing, it won’t be productive either way.”

“So…” Roman started. “Yerkes-Dodson curve again?”

Logan looked at him, unimpressed. “Yes, the Yerkes-Dodson curve again.”

He didn’t really understand what that was referencing, but Patton decided to speak up again. “So you’re going to spend the rest of the day coming up with a flexible but concrete plan for tomorrow?”

“That does sound like the consensus.” Janus shrugged. No one else argued.

By the time the three were done planning, Patton had fallen asleep on the chair he was on. Janus gently picked up his husband on his back. Patton’s arms fell loosely around his neck as he was coming out of unconsciousness. The car ride was quiet, and they reached home. Janus waved to Remus before heading inside, helping Patton follow along.

It was 6 PM. The longest that anyone had lived on that day. Patton was suddenly awake when he realized that. His grip on Janus’s shirt tightened significantly. But the two still didn’t say anything. Patton took out his barrettes and ponytail. He shook out his hair, looking at himself in the mirror again as he took off the cardigan. Janus was making a quick dinner for the two of them. Patton had to keep reminding himself that Janus was still there, still alive. He almost believed that something would keep going wrong, and that wouldn’t be fair. None of it seemed fair though, so it was possible. Patton gave himself a nod. “It’s going to be okay.”

After they ate, Janus and Patton got into pajamas. They laid on top of the blankets, holding hands despite facing opposite ways. Janus cleared his throat. “What are you going to do if today repeats again, Patton?”

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I mean obviously I’ll try to keep you all alive but I’m going to try different things. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten. I keep thinking that you’ll die in front of me or that Roman and Logan already died and I just don’t yet. Virgil suggested that I might just have to accept the fact that you’re going to die. I certainly don’t want that to be true.”

Janus nodded solemnly. “I mean I guess it’s finally been proven that I can die now.”

Patton hit him softly with his free hand. “No jokes! This is a serious time, we gotta be serious.” Janus gave him a look, some mix between mock offended and trying desperately not to laugh. “JAn! Stop trying to make me laugh- no stop poking my face- I’m trying to have a conversation with you-” He was cut off by his own laughter, followed by his husband’s laughter. Patton’s laugh turned into crying. The two sat up. “You’ll be okay, right Jan? I don’t want this to be the last time we joke around like this. I’ll miss you so much.”

There was a pause, and then Janus cradled Patton’s check with one of his hands. “You’re strong, Patton. If anyone had the moral capability to save everyone repeatedly, it would be you. Then again, I’ll ask you to consider taking up a therapist when you do get out of the time loop, regardless of the end result.”

“Fair enough.” Patton allowed Janus to pull him into a kiss. It was short. When they pulled away Patton pulled them into a hug. “Can you stay up with me until twelve? I want to make sure that tomorrow will actually come.”

“Of course, dear.”

Time passed. Patton and Janus mostly just bothered Ladle when she went into the room, talked about things that didn’t matter, and kept each other company. Patton checked the clock on the bedside table and his phone with basically every free thought he had. Janus tried to distract him with a movie playing on his laptop, but his hand remained on his phone. They finished the movie when it turned 11 PM.

“So, should we play another movie or just scroll on our phones or something?” Janus asked. Patton hummed for a moment, giving a look. Janus narrowed his eyebrows, feigning suspicion. “Oh, you want to do a special thing don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Patton relented. “Something simple though! I haven’t made any of the loops, so it’s been awhile for me. Please? If we start now we might be able to finish before midnight!”

So they made cookies. Despite being on a time limit, the two spent plenty of it messing around. Janus ate some of the cookie dough after the chocolate chips were put in despite Patton’s insistence not to. But after a very small amount of convincing, Patton ate cookie dough as well. Janus put in the first batch of cookies at about 11:47. So maybe they should have rushed just a little bit more. Patton looked at Janus, with innocence in his expression but mischievousness in his heart. “Looks like we’re in a real time crunch now, huh?”

“Patton. We have been married for three years and four months but I’m willing to end it there if you continue to keep doing this to me.” If someone who didn’t know Janus heard him say that, they would’ve believed that he was being completely honest. Patton though, just laughed proudly. Janus sat on the floor, across from the oven, watching the cookies and pretending not to pay attention to Patton.

“Come on, Jan!” Patton exclaimed, shaking his shoulders. “If this really is the last of the time loop I got to end with a sweet pun!”

Before there could be any more arguments, or god forbid, puns the timer went off and the first batch of cookies were done. Patton took out the tray as Janus put in the next one. The two checked the time. 11:58. Janus lifted the cookie. “Looks like there’s no time to let it cool. I want to have at least one cookie if the day is going to reset anyways.”

“Well, I guess just this once, it’s okay.” Patton said, picking up his own cookie. He looked at the clock to see they only had one minute left. Patton made eye contact with Janus. “If this day repeats, I just want you to know that I’ll never stop until I save you.”

“I know.” and they both took bites into the cookies.

Patton looked at the clock after a moment. He chewed and swallowed the cookie, seeing that it was 12 AM. Patton looked quickly back at Janus, who was there and alive. Janus put down his cookie just as he was enveloped in a hug. Patton was crying already, holding onto him like he was going to disappear at any moment. “You’re alive! You’re alive… It’s finally over. I’m not stuck anymore.”

He cried into Janus’s shoulder, finally breathing in a new today.

Taglist: @rosalynravenclaw16 @genderkwerfirebird @littlefufu10 @hailcap85 @infawrit10 @dontask25 @shinekittenace @reginaofdoctorwho @harmonydiaries @tomori-outtit @wundergirllovesyou @you-gay-bitch @tradernate @vinnievinvibing @gender-guts @the-dead-and-the-decaying @qtkittencorn @elsecaller617 @made-of-love-and-loneliness @venus-virgil77 @sablesides @mainfor-theo @inge-nine @drunk-logan-cursed-facts @pastelpatton @gay-artist-626 @ace-ace-in-yo-face @lemonlinelights @mk-wastebin @kayte-wren @jaunssanders @asdfghjklicia

#sander sides #emile writes #writing #moceit #moceit timeloop au #patton sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #long post #fake shitpost #that took about 52 days total #apparently #idk that's just how long it's been since the first post about it #anyways if i need to add more content warnings please tell me

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theimprobabledreamersworld · 3 years

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Ooooh boy! Welcome to a new side to writing from me!

This little one shot is probably the most angst ridden one I’ve ever written. It’s okay though, promise! This is also the first time I’ve ever written about the characters as Sides instead of a Human AU... Plus the main premise of this was based off a scene in Thor 2, a film I absolutely adore!

I hope you enjoy reading it. I loved writing it! <3

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @writerwithtoomanyships

Read on Ao3!

No More Illusions.

Platonic/Romantic Logicality.

Word count: 1,623

Warnings: Crying, hurt, anger mentions, angry actions.

Logan rubbed his neck, it was still sore from where Janus yanked him away during the video. That wasn’t the only thing that was sore, his heart felt bruised too. He was ignored, skipped and still seen as an inconvenience. Hell, he turned himself into a textbox so he was out of the way. Was that not enough?

Despite the rage and the heartbreak he felt surging through him. He couldn’t help but feel a need to check on Patton. Even though he was angry when he appeared back one final time, he noticed that Patton wasn’t… himself. The way he desperately tried to beg Logan to stay, the pleading in his eyes… something must have happened when he was taken away. He needed to find out what.

He walked through the Mind Palace cautiously, he could still feel the anger swelling in his chest and he didn’t want to take it out on anyone unnecessarily. He couldn’t do that to the others. Their intentions were in the right place, but all of them got clouded by their own judgements… by their own emotions, including him. He chuckled bitterly, Janus was right in the courtroom all along.

‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘Oh, of course you don’t.’

Right now, it was impossible to deny that Janus has been right all along. He was feeling more than it was possible to express. Including a sense of relief when he walked down the corridor and noticed that all of the room doors were shut tight. Everyone must be wallowing in their own problems, so he wouldn’t need to speak to anyone apart from the one person he was genuinely concerned about. He reached Patton’s door and knocked softly three times, one long, two short. He heard a sigh from the other side of the door and he wasn’t expecting what he saw when the door swung open.

“Logan!” Patton shouted in an overly positive voice. His smile was plastered onto his face, as if he was wearing a mask. There was a soft, yellow glow around him and the room had the same glow. Almost as if it was covered in gold.

“I didn’t think I would see you today! We… didn’t exactly treat you very well earlier. I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with all of us for a while.” Logan stared at Patton, the smile didn’t falter… didn’t change at all. He knew that none of this was real. The mask was slipping, the voice didn’t match the ‘happy-pappy-Patton’ he knew. That’s when he realised, he needed to try and help.

“Is… there something you needed?” Patton laughed gently, but the gold outline around him was begin to crackle and his eyes were shifting back and forth, almost willing Logan to leave… practically begging him to leave. To let him fight this battle alone. Logan wasn’t going to let that happen. He took one step forward, gave Patton a soft smile and called out into the room.

“Patton, enough. Please. No more illusions.” His voice projected a sadness he didn’t even know he could feel. The fact that Patton needed to hide how he was feeling to such an extent, even from him, showed that the events that happened after he was removed must have been catastrophic.

Patton sighed once more, he bowed his head and the façade cracked, shattered and melted away. The gold outline started to fall from the ceiling. Patton began to disappear, leaving a gold shimmer in his place. The room fell into disrepair causing Logan to gasp. He knew that Patton kept a lot of different things in his room; photos, old books… pretty much any and all memories pertaining to Thomas. So to see such anger in a generally positive space, it was quite hard to look at. The books that were usually so delicately kept on bookshelves were tossed onto the floor, the dents in the wall showed the sheer force that some of them had been thrown across the room. Photos that were kept in piles based on the year they were taken were scattered carelessly around the entire wall. Frames with Thomas’ accomplishments were shattered, the things that Patton was proudest of, reduced to target practice. Logan claimed to not feel anything. The state of the room was a shock to be sure, but when he looked over at the bed, his heart broke right there on the spot.

He heard a small laugh, something that made him shudder as he saw Patton sit up on the bed. The sheets torn up, and the pillows ripped in half. His eyes were red raw from crying, his voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The cardigan normally lovingly wrapped around his shoulders was tossed into the bin, along with his polo shirt with his logo on it. A large hoodie covered him instead, he looked up at Logan, waiting for him to make some kind of comment.

“Now you see me, Logan.” He laughed in a monotonous way. Logan slowly took steps closer to the bed. He took his steps cautiously and Patton noticed the hesitation.

“I’ve hurt everyone… I- I couldn’t control myself. Janus was asking so many questions as you. I- I didn’t know the answers. I turned into Lilypadton. I hurt Thomas, something I swore I would never do. I’m supposed to be… good. I’m supposed to help protect him. I- I- I hurt you! I skipped things you were saying, I didn’t realise you were replaced. I didn’t mean to hurt everyone. I- I don’t know what to do… I’m a monster, Logan.” Patton’s body wracked with sobs, this uncontrollable pain radiated from him. As he started to glow a dark blue, Logan raced over and wrapped his arms around Patton as tight as he could.

Patton was rigid for a little while, but eventually he caved in and buried his head into Logan’s chest. He rubbed his back and told him repeatedly that everything was going to be okay. This was new for Logan, it’s been a long time since he felt this… helpless? He didn’t know if that was the right word, but he definitely felt unsure what to do. All he knew is that Patton needed him.

“Hey, listen to me. You must have been so overwhelmed and confused. Morality isn’t a cut and dry concept, you’re doing everything you can to help Thomas. Getting overwhelmed sometimes is nothing to be ashamed about. It’s part of nature. You can’t know everything the whole time. Thomas will end up in scenarios that will cause all of us to stumble and be uncertain.” He pushed Patton back so he could look him in the eyes and reassure him that things will be okay. He brushed his hair out of his face so he could look Patton right in the eyes. He couldn’t help but smile as Patton reluctantly looked up at him.

“You are not a monster. You can never think that, Patton. We’ve all made mistakes… but we grow as we go… we grow and learn with Thomas. No one thinks you’re a monster, least of all me. Okay?” Logan held Patton by the shoulders, and he seemed to relax more with every word. The tears were slowly stopping, but he could tell that Patton was trying to figure out how to say something. So he waited until he was ready.

“B- but, I hurt people. I hurt the people I care about most.” It was almost as if he was looking for any reason to keep beating himself up, to keep feeling miserable. Logan wasn’t having it.

“Patton, we’ve all been there. We’ve all hurt people, and we’ve been hurt in return. That’s just how things go. You are good, Patton. You apologised to Thomas, you worked out things out. You made some very clever observations about morality with Thomas. ‘A more mature person comes with more mature, moral questions…?’ Being able to admit that you don’t always know the answer, but you’ll still keep fighting anyway. Now that’s brave.” Patton smiled, it was a relief to see he smile and genuinely mean it this time. Logan wrapped his arms around Patton once again and he immediately hugged him back.

He had to admit, this was nice.

“I’m going to use yours and Thomas’ words against you. So bear with me… Look, Patton. You’re not perfect, just like the rest of us… but those imperfections, don’t make you any less worthy of love. I want you to remember that.” He could feel the happiness radiate off of Patton, there was a light blue glow surrounding him, and he pulled away from Logan.

“Thank you, Logan. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Logan smiled, it was nice to feel appreciated again. Despite everything, he felt infinitely better now.

“You’re most welcome, Patton. Would you like me to go now?” He secretly hoped the answer would be no. They needed each other, even if it was just for a night.

“Actually… Could you read to me? Can we carry on with Lord of the Rings?” Logan felt relieved and immediately grabbed his book off Patton’s bookshelf. He climbed onto the bed and waited for Patton to get comfortable next to him. He turned to the page they left off on while Patton eventually rested his head on Logan’s shoulder.

After a while, Patton fell asleep so Logan put the bookmark on the page and gently placed it on the table next to the bed. He carefully removed Patton’s glasses and took his off as well. As he drifted off to sleep as well, one last thought entered his mind.

Patton had his moments, but all in all, he was Logan’s hero too.

#sanders sides #logicality #ts patton #ts logan #sanders sides fanfic #thor 2 references #ts fanfic #ts fandom #angst #putting others first references #mind palace #tw crying #tw anger #tw angry actions #fluff #comfort #reassurance

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friendlyfacestabbing · 3 years

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I swear everytime I start a new au it’s like I’m standing there with a casting sheet handing out scripts like:

“okay Logan, you can have my gifted kid trauma and my love of multisyllabic vocabulary”

“that seems only logical”

“and Janus, this time you get my gender shenanigans.”

“delightful, I hate it”

“Patton? here’s my ability to get shit done for other people while completely neglecting myself.”

“can do!” “as well as my completely well-adjusted childhood that I definitely don’t have any issues from.”

“hmmm, that’s a lot, but I’m pretty sure I can make those all work!”

“Remus! ADHD brain go BRRRRRR.”

“with maiming???”

“not this fic buddy. maybe in the next oneshot? where’s Roman? Roman! okay you get my insecurity, my terror of failure, and my poor decision making with the best of intentions.”

“I- well. It’s not quite what I’d hoped for, but. If you’re sure?”

“you also get my love of swords? I promise I’ll write you an unambiguously heroic role soon.”

“well then I shall give the part I’m given my utmost effort!”

“awesome! Virgil?”

“please not angst. please not angst. please not-”

“you get my fear of abandonment, my anxiety, my processing of the other angsty media I’ve been consuming, and my deep-seated dread when confronting my future.”

“again?!? come on man!”

“sorry dude, it’s the prickly-exterior-with-a-heart-of-gold vibe. if it’s any consolation the hurt/comfort gets spread pretty evenly this fic.”

“sure, I guess? dammit...”

“okay Thomas, Emile, and Remy? you’re my secondary characters to provide stability to the main cast (goodness knows someone has to). alright everyone! lets get this first draft rolling! ”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #Emile Picani #remus sanders #janus sanders #sleep sanders #I wrote a thing

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f00pyf00p · 3 years

Text

Beyond The Darkness Lies Light

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, Janus Rating: Mature Relationships: Romantic Analogical Warnings: Violence, Implied Rape, Abusive Relationships, Flashbacks, Nightmares, PTSD, Unsympathetic Deceit, Crying, Angst and Hurt/Comfort Word count: 2270 Summary: Logan awoke in a puddle of his own sweat. It was dark- dark enough that he couldn’t tell if that shadow on the wall was Janus or just- He flicked the light switch next to him. The room was empty. Other Notes: Analogical Week Day 3: Nightmares/Dreams @analogicalweek

Read on AO3

Logan had already been tense when Janus turned to him. His boyfriend’s eyes were narrowed, breathing harsh, and when he reached for Logan’s wrist, Logan couldn’t help but to flinch away.

That didn’t stop Janus’ hand from closing around it and slamming it up against his bedroom wall.

“Where were you?”

His voice was practically a growl and as he said it he boxed Logan into the corner, so there was nowhere to run, nowhere to go but to him. Logan looked at the floor but Janus’s other hand grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to meet his eyes.

“I asked you a question, you complete dunce. Where. Were. You.”

“I- I was-”

“You- you were,” Janus mocked. His hand tightened around Logan’s wrist and the other one dropped his head to fully slam him in the stomach.

Logan doubled over, the only thing keeping him up that firm, impossible grip.

“I was at my mom’s.” Logan’s voice was practically a whisper and edged with pain. “I promise, I wasn’t-”

“Do you remember the rules?”

“Our dog had just died, she said she needed-”

Another punch, this one to the face. “Do you remember the rules, Bonehead?”

Logan whimpered. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Janus’s hand hauled him back to his feet. Logan kept his gaze on the wood beams of the floor, falling silent as Janus’s hand grazed the bruise he had just planted on him.

“You.” A slap to the face. “Don’t.” Another in the same spot. “Go.” A knee to his groin. Logan nearly slipped down the wall, but Janus kept him standing. “Anywhere.” He backhanded him on the other cheek. “Without me.”

Logan was quick to nod.

“Get on the bed.”

“Please-”

“Get on the bed, Logan.”

The hand fell off his wrist, exposing layers of dark purple handprints. Janus didn’t need to tell him again as Logan took a step forward, towards their shared bed, towards-

Logan awoke in a puddle of his own sweat. It was dark- dark enough that he couldn’t tell if that shadow on the wall was Janus or just-

He flicked the light switch next to him.

The room was empty.

Obviously, you complete idiot.

He winced at the voice- the voice that was definitely not his- and dropped back onto the sheets. Breath came unsteadily, fiercely, and tears pricked at the edges of Logan’s eyes. Before he could get a proper grip on himself, a loud sob poured out of him which was enough to trigger the avalanche that came after.

Gods, he was pathetic. It was a dream. It was just a dream. He had escaped Janus years ago. He was safe, he had moved, and there was no way for Janus to ever get to him again.

He was fine.

Fine.

Another sob ripped out of him. Logan rolled to the other half of his bed, leaving a trail of sweat as he did so, and curled into a ball under the covers.

He was fine.

He was home.

He was safe.

But no matter how many times Logan repeated it, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

Logan’s hand swept out towards his bedside table- maybe for his glasses, to turn on another light, he couldn’t quite be sure, but either way, what his hand fell on was his fully charged cell phone.

He knew what he wanted before he had fully comprehended it. His thumb pressed against the home button, fingers rapidly working to find the phone app, until he finally opened to the recent calls section and clicked the very first name on the list.

He pressed it up to his ear.

It rang once.

Twice.

He probably wasn’t even awake, Logan told himself. It was- he glanced at the alarm clock- 2:21 in the morning. There was no need for Virgil to be awake, and frankly, it would actually be troubling if he did pick up the phone.

At least, that’s what Logan was telling himself.

“What’s up?” The voice was slightly crackly, rough and Logan found that the very sound of it forced another sob out of his throat.

That definitely put the voice on alert. “L? L, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m fine.” Logan choked on his own words. “Hi, Vir-Virgil.”

“Hello yourself. What’s going on?”

“I…” Another sob tore through him. “I’m not actually sure why-why I called.”

“That’s okay.” There was a ruffling on the other side of the phone, followed by a loud zipper. “Do you want to talk?”

Did he? Not really. Re-visiting the dream right now felt like rubbing salt into an old wound, one that had yet to close. One Logan wasn’t sure he would ever be able to fully close.

So why had he called? What had his body known he needed before his brain could fully catch up with his instincts?

“I-” Logan swallowed. “I want you.”

“Okay.” Thumping noises. Virgil must be walking around. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Logan wiped his eyes with his arm. “It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that, Logan.” Virgil was interrupted by… was that an engine? “And if you’re upset, I want to listen.”

Logan’s heart lurched forward and a fresh wave of tears completely undid all the work he had done in cleaning himself up. There was a quiet noise from outside his window and Logan instantly curled closer around himself, mewling softly.

“L.” Virgil’s voice was unbearably soft. “L, I’m coming to your apartment. I’ll be there in five minutes. Okay?”

Normally, Logan would protest. He should protest now; it had just been a nightmare and nightmares were nothing, nightmares didn’t matter-

A car roared down by his window and Logan whimpered.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll stay on the phone with you while I’m getting there.”

“Yes, please.”

“L, do you want to talk about what happened?”

It was almost the same question as earlier, but it was so unbearably soft, so unbearably understanding that Logan found the easy “no” from earlier wasn’t one he could summon. He closed his tears and huddled closer to his phone as if Virgil himself could appear through the screen.

“I experienced a dream. About… him.”

Virgil's silence was deafening and Logan almost apologized, for calling him, for waking him, especially over something as stupid as a nightmare, when finally his boyfriend spoke.

“I’m going to kill him.” Virgil let out a breath. “Not helpful. Sorry. Um. You’re not dumb, Logan. I can’t imagine… What you’re feeling right now is valid. Okay? Everything that’s happening right now is valid.”

“He’s not even here.” Logan's voice cracked on the last word.

“The memory of what he did to you is, L. Especially after something as triggering as a nightmare. Okay? It’s okay.” There was a pause and then Virgil spoke again, much more muffled and clearly not to Logan. “Turn left here please. Thank you.”

Logan sank back into the cushions, staying curled in the tight ball from earlier.

“My car is about to pull on your street, L.” Virgil’s voice was as patient as ever. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to hang up for right now, okay?”

Logan gave a quiet murmur in response. He wiped his tears away a third time, and this time, they didn’t replenish and undo all his hard work.

There was a knock on his front door and then a creak as it opened. And even though he knew it was Virgil, even though he knew it wasn’t him, Logan's heart stopped and his entire body froze.

“Logan?”

The voice helped. The knock on his bedroom door did as well simply because Janus had never bothered.

“Logan? Can I come in?”

Logan swallowed. “Y-yeah.”

“Can I turn on the light? More than just your bedside lamp I mean.”

Yes, please, thank you thank you thank you-

“Yeah.”

He blinked blearily against the sudden shine from above, choosing to curl away from it rather than towards it. There was a sudden sinking in the bed behind him and Logan refroze immediately.

“Logan, can I touch you?” The voice cracked in the middle of the sentence but came much stronger at the end. A kind of firmness that came to it only when someone was desperately trying not to fall apart.

He didn’t want to upset Virgil.

“I don’t think so,” he whispered. “At the moment, I believe it’ll resend me into a state of panic.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”

Logan didn’t. But he had finally managed to stop crying, and his therapist had told him that talking was helpful. So he opened his mouth and launched into it, leaving out only the things that he still couldn’t handle passing his lips. And by the end of it, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his chest, especially as Virgil muttered darkly;

“I’ll cut his fucking hands off.” He twitched, which Logan only was sure occurred because the entire bed moved with him. “Sorry. Still not helpful. You know everything you feel right now is normal, right Logan? Revisiting a memory like that…” Virgil swallowed. “You’re very brave.”

Logan wiped his eyes again and slowly unfurled from his ball and flipped over to meet the watery eyes of his boyfriend. Virgil smiled sadly, and his hands twitched towards him before they were firmly placed in his lap.

Logan cleared his throat. “Above the waist is fine. And not… not my face.”

A very very dark look crossed Virgil’s face but it was banished just as quickly. Logan closed his eyes as a hand gently landed on his shoulder and smoothed light circles into his sweat nightshirt. The motion helped steady him, and Logan matched his breaths to the rhythm, slowly evening everything out.

He moved and the hand froze in place. Logan slowly drew himself up and collapsed onto Virgil’s side, ducking his head onto Virgil’s chest and curling two arms around his middle.

Slowly, uncertainly, Virgil wrapped an arm around Logan. He was very careful to keep his touch to his chest, one arm curling to hold him around his back and the other gently falling beside it.

“Sorry I woke you up,” Logan whispered.

“Oh, shut up.” Virgil’s tone was as light as he could make it with the rumble of empathy behind it. “I always want to be woken up for this, L.”

Logan’s arm tightened around Virgil and he buried his face into Virgil’s chest.

He didn’t know how long they lay there. How long he concentrated on evening out his breathing, how long he worked to stifle the memories that kept threatening to overflow him, but he knew eventually his concentration lay not with Janus- not fully at least- but rather with the slickness covering him.

Slowly, Logan pushed from Virgil’s chest so he was sitting up on his bed. With one arm, he dried off what was left on his face and reached for his glasses on the nightstand.

Virgil watched him with cautious, adoring eyes. Just the look of him helped Logan to breathe.

“I’m…” Logan shoved the glasses up his nose. “I believe the next best step would be for me to take a shower. I’m currently a mess.”

“You’re beautiful,” Virgil said sincerely. Logan fixated him with a look and a bit of a smile appeared on Virgil’s face. “I mean, you look a bit ruffled, but I still find you adorable.”

Logan slowly leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss to Virgil’s lips. Virgil responded carefully, slowly. His hands remained by his sides and he let Logan lead them through it until Logan pulled back.

“Thank you,” Logan murmured.

Virgil swallowed noisily. “Of course. Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll see if I can find something in your refrigerator to eat?”

Logan nodded.

His shower was as hot as he could make it without burning his skin, and he got the feeling as he scrubbed, that he wasn’t just trying to remove the fine layer of crusted water and salt spread across his skin.

Once he was out, Logan changed into a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of long pajama pants. He glanced over at the clock and winced.

4:07 in the morning.

Tomorrow- or rather today, Logan supposed- would be quite the thing to work through.

He shuffled into his kitchen and found Virgil setting pancakes out across it. Logan blinked.

“I wasn’t aware I had ingredients for pancakes.”

“I bought you that mix where you just add water about three months ago.” Virgil raised his eyebrows. “It hadn’t been opened yet.”

Logan shrugged.

While the two of them ate, Virgil launched into a story about the animal shelter he worked at, going into unnecessary detail over a dog who had bitten a stick in a bad enough way to get it stuck in between his teeth and the work Virgil had to do to get it out.

Logan had never been more appreciative of Virgil than he was at that moment.

When they finished eating, Virgil dropped off the plates in Logan’s sink. Logan watched him with large glassy eyes and Virgil swallowed thickly, a hand reaching out for him that froze halfway there.

“Can I-”

“You can touch me.” Logan cleared his throat. “Anywhere- Anywhere is fine.”

Hands curled into his hair and Virgil gently hugged Logan’s head to his stomach. Logan wrapped both of his arms around Virgil's waist and let out a long breath.

“I love you,” Logan whispered.

The hands tightened around him. “I love you too.”

#analogical #analogicalweek #virgil-x-logan #virgil sanders #logan sanders #logan angst #sandersides #unsympathetic janus #abusive lociet #rape tw #violence tw #past lociet

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writing-frenzy · 3 years

Text

Must Have Done Something in a Past Life (To Deserve This)

Summery: Being in the Entity’s realm, some of course wonder what they did to deserve it; some joke maybe they did something in a past life or something

(Never noticing how a certain nervous leader twitched at that)

Warning: Mentions and Acts of bullying, Cruelty, animal abuse, Past toxic/abusive relationships, some mentions of murder.

(So, I got inspired :3 Of course my SI-OC side would come into play, and Dead By Daylight will not be missed. Tho, mind the tags, as this SI-OC... yeah, they were not a good person, so make sure to be mindful of your health.)

============================================

When Dwight Fairfield was young, he’s always had dreams. Dreams of being popular, making friends, making it big in life, being a winner... But most of his bullies usually destroyed those dreams rather easily, locking him in lockers, pushing his head in a toilets, messing and even destroying his things, and generally just beating him up, writing over him Loser in permeant marker.

His first year of high school had certainly been a learning experience, though probably not in the way his teachers expected. Dwight might not have the best grades in the school, but even with all the shit he put up with and missing/ripped homework, he always managed to get by at least; he was adaptable if nothing else. He learned to watch the halls, learned who would be willing to let him hide from the bullies or at least would turn a blind eye to him if he passed by, wouldn’t call them to attention for a quick smackdown. He learned to keep his head down, learned to watch and wait and calculate other’s schedule’s and habits, to avoid the worst of the assholes who got a kick out of life by trying to kick him out of it.

But nothing, not all the skills and tricks he could muster up could compete with Lady Luck’s bad side.

It happened when one of his worst bully’s deciding to skip, just as the glasses wearing youth decided to go to the restroom that the unfortunate bump in happened.

“Ah, look, how you’ve been Dwight, long time no see.” was said rather cheerfully, the Bully wrapping an arm around the rapidly paling teen, Dwight refusing to say anything, least he provide fodder for that wicked look in the other’s eyes, the embers their not yet blazing at least. But still, he did nod, knowing that if he didn’t respond it would just provoke the other even worse. (So either way, he was going to suffer, but at least this way he could minimize as much risk as he could. He would gamble in ways he knew had some payoff, always watching the others face and hands with his own eyes, moving his head as little as possible.)

“You know, after so long apart, we should really do something to celebrate, right? Especially since we won’t see each other over the summer.” the stronger, taller, and very much built man said, arm going tight on Dwights shoulder, making him wince, stoking that wicked glee in the other’s eye.

‘Oh, this is not going to be fun.’ the nerdy teen thought, the world easily proving how right that was, his bully calling up some of his ‘friends’ as he did.

And they even brought ‘supplies’.

With Duct tape all wrapped around him and forcing him in place, stuck to the wall as he was, Dwight could only sit and take it as random items from balls to rocks were thrown at him, the youth doing his best to dodge as much as he could with the little head movement he could manage.

(He really, really didn’t want to break his glasses again; he’s managed to go half the year without incident.)

Though, with every hit coming closer to his head, with ever slam of a item against his body and the wall, a migraine started to form, making Dwight feel even fainter then he did before. Something also seemed to be going on with his sight as well, flashes of red seeming to appear before his eyes here and there. The teens across from his seemed to change as well, shadows of men in dark uniforms across him instead.

Dwight honestly felt like he was going to be sick. But then, in a moment of inattention, something hit him hard before he knew nothing but darkness.

----

A young child, watching ants crawl all around, before with a bored expression, squishing them one by one.

A preteen, being sweet one moment with their dog before cruelty hitting it over and over the minute it did something wrong.

A young teen, sweetly smiling up at the lady he just helped up, even as they stole her wallet with ease.

A young adult, gently breaking up with their devoted girlfriend, knowing this would be the last thing to send them over the edge.

An adult, ever so charming and popular, even as their body count keeps rising in their shadow.

This killer finally meeting their end, messing with the heart of someone who already had many admirers, tied up and yet still smiling, even as someone pulls out a gun.

“I’ve always wondered what was after death.” was said with that same gentle grin, those eyes so wicked even still as the bullet finally hits them.

(Oh, how they find out; they finally found something in this world to fill that emptiness in them.)

-------

Ever since that incident, with Dwight having to visit the hospital thanks to the bullies going to far, things have been different. For one, the school had to actually punish the bullies, suspending them and having this go on their permeant records, seeing as one of the bullies had actually been livestreaming the event in it’s entirety.

This had the blessed effect of number two; with the school being cracked down on, Dwight was blessedly left alone the next two months before the Summer Holidays. Sure, there was some snide comments and the occasional shove, but otherwise, Dwight wasn’t complaining.

Not when he had other things to complain about.

‘Oh, and here I thought I was being the model roommate.’ was said ever so innocently, Dwight having to close his eyes when he heard it, ‘By the way, you forgot to carry the seven.’

Number three; the new voice that suddenly took up residence in his head. A Voice that came with a bunch of disturbing memories, a morbid sense of humor, and ironically a good teacher.

‘Doesn’t hurt having a good student; now come on, you just have a few more questions to look through and then you don’t have to worry about looking at math for the rest of the summer.’ is said by the Voice.

“And do what for the rest of the summer?” Dwight grumbled, opening his eyes once more to his drab little room as he went on with his math sheet, making sure to carry the 7 now in his division, which ended up making much more sense.

‘Many things; maybe go to the movies, play those games you like, kill time and maybe some people, oh, you can learn a new language.’ the Voice said ever so causally.

Dwight used to wonder what he did in a past life to deserve the shit he went through; he really wish it could have gone unanswered, like with other people.

“...I might take you up on the language thing.” the young nerd said, looking over to a few of his manga and comics he had to the side, before he went to work back at his homework; it really was almost done, being the last of the summer homework he worked through with the voice in his head.

‘And I do believe it’s about time you stopped calling me that; I am more then just a voice after all.’ said Voice reminded him, the young teen twitching at that.

(Giving people names... made them apart of the world, made them someone who also had their own choices and decisions all around them... It made them real...)

“... Sure, Janus.” Dwight said, knowing the other would prefer that over their ‘actual’ name instead.

(All the while, Janus, or Dwight Jackson, huffed in the mind they found themselves in; before, they had always been so empty, never wanting to be alone, but so bored, so dull with everyday life and all it’s idle entertainments. Even killing was boring after a while, the thrill of it all becoming much too easy, much too routine after so long doing it and never being caught. It’s what made him decide to end it all in the first place and go out with a bang.

But watching someone else live their life, watching someone else struggle, claw their way to stay above society’s waters, watching each and every move this Dwight made, to survive on top of it all...

Well, Janus really couldn’t get enough of it to be honest; he could probably watch for eternity and not get bored, actually feeling alongside Dwight.)

{All the while this goes on, neither notice the darkness in town, traveling the streets, wrapping around his home, eager and waiting.}

====================================

Writer Notes:

Dwight is such a fun character to play around with; so nervous, and yet capable, is a leader despite everything, can be a petty little shit when he wants, and yet so kind too. yeah, giving him a past life as a serial killer was mean, but so much fun, especially since the two of them are part of the Whole.

Janus: Charming, Seductive, easily bored, is ironically more of a follower then a leader; he would be a really competent as a right hand man or second in command; he just never found anyone worthy to follow, feeling ever so empty in his life.

Dwight: Awkward, Introverted, is actually someone that is a natural born leader and can stand his own, but because of his environment he grew up in, he ended up burying those talents to try and fit in.

(The two of them, above all else, hate being alone more than anything.)

Hope you all enjoyed it!

#Dead by Daylight #DBD #DBD Dwight #Dead By Daylight Dwight #Dwight Fairfield #SI-OC

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kuroyurishion · 4 years

Text

A Prinxiety Halloween Story

Fandom: Sanders Sides

AU: Human

Pairing(s): Prinxiety, Logicality (mentioned), Demus (mentioned)

Summary: Virgil is stuck babysitting his baby cousin on Halloween night while answering the door to trick or treaters. Roman shows up to surprise him.

Warnings: Cursing, Food mention, Hyperventilation (Did I miss any? Please let me know!), OOC Characters

Additional Note(s): Happy Halloween everyone! I’m a bit rusty since I haven’t written in so long. Think of this as a little test run. I hope all of you are having an amazing and spooktacular Halloween 🎃 (Finished 11:49 PM, October 31, 2020. Just in time!)

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27364531

Ready? Let’s Begin.

Trick or Treat: A Witch and his Vampire

Virgil Sullivan sighed underneath his breath as he clutched the bowl of candy tightly as he shut the door behind him. That was the fifth group of kids dressed in their colorful costumes. His neighborhood was full of kids, even more so since it was Halloween. He places the bowl of candy on the coffee table. He had approximately five to seven minutes of a break until the next wave of tiny children came, so he was gonna-

A loud crash jolted Virgil out of his thoughts. It came from the kitchen. He panics slightly, hurriedly jogging over to check the commotion. There was a chair knocked over, and sitting beside it was a white sheet. Virgil groans. “Damion, really?” he questions, picking up the chair. Damion is Virgil’s seven year old baby cousin who his aunt and uncle dropped off and asked him to babysit while they go on a business trip with Virgil’s parents.

The tiny seven year old giggles mischievously from his makeshift ghost costume. “Whoops! Sorry Vee!” he apologizes, not even sounding slightly sorry. Virgil rolls his eyes at his cousin.

“Just be more careful next time.” he says with a tired sigh. His cousin scampers off somewhere, the white sheet dragging behind him. Virgil went back to the living room and was about to sit back on the couch until he heard the doorbell. He groans, thinking it must be another batch of neighborhood kids looking for some candy, and picking up the bowl of candies, he answers the door. He reaches inside the bowl of candies and grabs a handful, and is about to greet the kids, but then pauses in surprise.

On the other side of the door weren’t a bunch of neighborhood kids. Instead, it was a very handsome man, about Virgil’s age. He was dressed up as a very fancy vampire; complete with a black vest with silver clasps, a long black overcoat and a red cotton alcott tucked into the collar of his white button down. The vampire had some very impressive makeup, Even the fake blood looked realistic! The vampire grinned, exposing his sharp fangs. He bowed, taking off his black top hat with a red ribbon tied around it.

“Greetings, my elusive Elphaba.” the vampire greets, standing up again straight again. Virgil rolls his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. He really didn’t want to dress up this year, just wanted to wear his usual black ripped jeans and purple and black jacket. Damion insisted he try, so he bought the black witch’s hat last minute and swapped his usual black eyeshadow with a glittery purple variety.

“‘Sup Roman.” Virgil greets with a two fingered salute.

Roman squawks indignantly. “It took me so long to think of that one!” he cried. “At least try to be in the Halloween spirit Virge!”

Virgil huffs. “Fine, I’ll play along.” He thinks of a cheesy saying and clears his throat. “And to you, my dashing Dracula.” he says with some enthusiasm. That really didn’t sound right coming from his mouth. Roman beams proudly, however, showing off his fake fangs.

“See! I knew you can do it!” he cheers.

“Thanks Princey.” Virgil says. “What did you come here for?”

Roman shrugs. “You’re usually out with my brother and Janus during Halloween, so when Remus said you weren’t gonna show up to your usual hang out spot, I thought it was suspicious.” he responds.

Virgil raises an eyebrow. “So you dressed up,” he starts, gesturing to Roman’s costume, “to check on me? Well aren’t you thoughtful?” He didn’t know why, but the thought was kinda sweet. Roman flushes.

“I was with Logan and Patton earlier before coming here,” he admits. “We were all trick or treating until Logan had to go back home because he had to study for his math test. Patton went with him since they’re both in the same class.”

Virgil snickers. “To study?” he asks, amused. Roman chuckles at that too.

“Can you believe they are not dating yet? I mean, Patton clearly likes Logan! And vice versa!”

“I know! They’re both so oblivious. I lost a bet to Janus since I said they’d get together first before him and Remus.”

The two boys share a laugh over the relationship status of your friends. “So how come you weren’t with my brother and Janus?” Roman asked curiously. Virgil shrugs in response.

“I’m stuck babysitting my younger cousin for the weekend.” he says. “Our parents are away on a business trip and won’t be back until next week.”

Roman nods in understanding. “Oh I see.” he says. “How’s that working out for you?”

Virgil grumbles. “He’s annoying me constantly and knocking so many things. My anxiety is through the roof since he’s so clumsy.” He sighs. “He even asked me to make his costume, Roman. I can’t make things for shit.”

Roman snickers. “Well, what did you make for him Virge?”

“I covered him in an old white sheet that I cut two holes for eyes in. Told him it was his ghost costume.” Virgil says then sighs. “The kid loves it, but honestly him dragging that thing along and bumping into things is driving me nuts.”

Roman laughs at that, and Virgil chuckles lightly after. They stop after a moment and look at each other, falling into an awkward silence, just looking at each other. Virgil looks at Roman’s costume and admires all the little details he put on it just for one night. He felt a bit underdressed with how his costume came out.

Roman clears his throat, breaking the silence and Virgil’s admiration of his costume. “I should head back home.” he says and Virgil’s eyes widened, realizing that it was getting late.

“Uh, yeah.” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess I’ll see you in class Monday.”

Roman nods and smiles. “I bid you adieu, O Wicked Witch of the West.” he says dramatically, then steps back quickly as Virgil throws a small piece of candy his way, face hidden under the brim of his giant witch’s hat, laughing fondly. “I’ll see you Monday!”

Virgil could barely get a good bye out since he shut the door so quickly. He leaned against the door, panting heavily. There was a weird feeling in his stomach. For some odd reason, he didn’t want Roman to go….

Making up his mind, Virgil quickly flung open the door and spotted Roman’s retreating figure. He panics for a moment, thinking that he was too late. Clutching the bowl of candy as if it were a lifeline, he runs over to him. “Roman, wait!”

Roman turns around, slightly confused. “Virgil?” he asks. “What’s wrong?” Virgil catches up to him, panting.

“Don’t go yet.” Virgil huffs out.

Roman smirks. “Afraid you can’t wait until Monday, Emo Nightmare?”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “You wish Princey.” he snarks. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but he was out here now. Might as well go for it. “Would you like to come in? You came all this way to check on me and you live on the other side of town…” He trails off, unsure of what to say next that wouldn’t make him sound whiny.

Roman raises an eyebrow. “You’re inviting me inside your house?” he asks in amusement. Virgil winces slightly. He knew it was a stupid idea to invite Roman. What was he thinking?

“If you didn’t want to, you could’ve just said no.” Virgil grumbles, hiding his face with the brim of his witch’s hat. He sighs. “It’s fine Princey. It was a stupid idea anyway, I’m just gonna go back and-”

“I’d love to stop by!” Roman says excitedly.

“-pause to process what you just said.” Virgil finishes, looking at Roman in surprise. “What did you say?” He swears he heard incorrectly. Did Roman just say he wanted to stop by?

Roman smirks. “I said yes, I’d love to stop by.” he repeats again, amused. Ah, so Virgil didn’t hear him correctly. The witch nodded silently and turned around to walk back to his house in stunned silence. He walks through the door, looking back to see if Roman was still following him. Roman was, but stopped in front of the threshold, not walking in.

“Princey, what are you doing?” Virgil asked in confusion. Roman still looked amused.

“Did you know, Virgil, that a vampire cannot enter your home?” Roman asked, grinning. “They have to be invited in. Once they are, they can enter and leave the home freely.”

Virgil looks at Roman like he grew another head. “You can’t be serious.” he groans. Roman continues to grin. “Roman, c’mon, seriously?”

“Why not Emo Nightmare?” Roman asks. “Don’t you wanna invite this, handsome, dashing vampire into your life?”

Virgil didn’t know whether or not to kiss Roman’s smug face or to punch it. Instead, he settles for putting the bowl of candy down and staring at Roman incredulously. “Roman-”

“Come on Virgil! Don’t you wanna let me in~?”

Virgil hides his blushing face with his witch’s hat. “Fine.” he grumbles. “Come on in, Dramacula.” He steps aside as Roman enters the house, winking at Virgil as he passes. Virgil sighs and locks the door behind him.

“Sorry for the mess.” he mumbles, looking around. It wasn’t really that messy, just a couple thrown pillows here and there because of Damion.

Roman looks around too. “Cozy place.” he compliments, looking at all the Halloween decorations around the house, like the spider web curtains and very realistic looking skulls on the mantelpiece.

Virgil mumbles his thanks. “What do you wanna do?” he asks Roman. He really didn’t think Roman was gonna say yes, so he was grasping at straws here.

Roman was about to suggest something when a loud noise came from the upstairs. It sounded like glass breaking. Both boys quickly ran upstairs to see what happened. In the hallway was the broken remains of a vase. Beside the shards sat Damion, still underneath the makeshift ghost costume.

Virgil panics. “Damion!” He carefully maneuvers himself around the sharp shards of glass to get to his younger cousins. He pulls the sheet off him. “Are you alright?”

The seven year old frowns sadly. “I thought I’d be able to walk through the wall…” he says. He crosses his arms and pouts. Virgil adjusts his witch’s hat with a sigh.

“You know you can’t do that.” he says, turning around to carefully pick up the shards of glass. Damion pouts unhappily, but then looks up to spot Roman standing there awkwardly. The small child screeches in surprise, causing Virgil to look up to see what was wrong now.

“Vee! There’s a vampire in your house!” Damion squeals excitedly, running over to Roman in wonder and awe. Roman looks at the seven year old curiously before falling into character.

“Tis I! The great vampire prince Roman!” Roman says dramatically, flashing a smile at Damion that exposed his fangs. The seven year old’s eyes widen.

“Wow! Your name is Roman?” Damion asks, tilting his head curiously. He was fascinated. “Like Roman King from the Drama Team? The same Roman that Vee-”

“-shares a science class with?” Virgil interrupts, having cleaned up the glass. He gives his cousin a subtle look, and the seven year grins mischievously in return, as if he knew what Virgil was hiding. And know he did. He snickers and scampers off to his room, leaving the two alone.

Roman looks at the two cousins. “And was the cousin you mentioned before?” he asks Virgil and the emo nods with a sigh. “He seems cute.”

“More like a menace.” Virgil grumbles. “I’m sorry about that. Damion's a bit… clumsy, I suppose.” He looks down, afraid to see Roman’s face. He heard Roman chuckle and his head snapped up.

“Don’t worry about it Virge.” Roman says. “He reminds me of Remus when he was younger. A little reckless rascal, you could say.”

Virgil sighs with relief. “Yeah, that.” he says, heading downstairs. Roman follows after.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” Roman suggested, sitting down on the couch. “We can eat the remaining candy while we’re at it.” Virgil looks at him hesitantly. Should he? He sits next to Roman and places the bowl of candy between them.

“Sure Princey.” What could possibly go wrong?

***

Virgil and Roman both agreed to watch the Nightmare Before Christmas. The entire movie, the two boys spent it in a relatively comfortable silence. However, there was something there between them. Something different, but not unwelcome. Virgil reaches inside the candy bowl to get another Hershey’s Kiss, but accidentally brushes against Roman’s hand. They both look at each other and freeze.

“Sorry….” they both say at the same time. “No wait- what I mean is- you have this wrong-” The two of them continued to be in sync, embarrassing Virgil and amusing Roman to no end. Virgil eventually turns back to watch the movie, unable to stand whatever that moment was. Roman does so eventually, and the two of them fall into routine. Everything was ok, going smoothly, until Sally began to sing her song. Virgil listened with rapt attention. Sally’s Song always held a soft spot for Virgil. The song always reminded him of himself, a small speck within the view of the one person he liked. He knew he never had a chance with this person.

He hums along with the song as he reminisces and remembers. Roman looks over and looks at Virgil, listening to the low humming. He tilts head and gets a thoughtful look on his face. When the scene ended, and the silence overcame them again, Roman reached out and paused the movie. Virgil looked confused. “Roman, what-?”

“Virgil, we need to talk.”

The tone of voice made Virgil freeze in his place. “Talk.” Virgil echoes. He frowns. Did he do something wrong? Was Roman mad at him? Did he waste Roman’s time due to a miscalculation and miscommunication on his part? He begins to hyperventilate, feeling terrible for wasting Roman’s time. He breathes, quick, shallow breaths.

Roman was beside him immediately. “Virgil?” he asked urgently. “Can you hear me?” At Virgil’s nod, he continues.

“Ok, Stormcloud. Breathe in for four seconds.”

Virgil does so, breathing in.

“Now hold for seven seconds.”

Virgil does so, holding his breath.

“Now exhale for eight seconds.”

Virgil exhales, feeling slightly better. He repeats the familiar breathing exercise for a couple of moments. “Thanks…” he says to Roman with a shaky thumbs up.

Roman nods. “You’re welcome.” he says. “What happened, Stormcloud?”

Virgil draws his knees close to his chest. “When you said we had to talk so suddenly, I thought you were upset with me.” he says. “I know, I know, it’s a stupid thing to get anxious from, and I should be over it but-” Virgil groans unhappily. Now Roman really was gonna think he was a loser or something.

Roman gasps. “Sweet mother of sugar plum fairies!” he exclaims. “I had no idea- oh Virgil, sorry that I caused you to have such a scare. But what I was gonna talk to you about isn’t bad, I promise.” He sits a comfortable distance from Virgil so as to not freak him out.

Virgil nods in surprise. Roman didn’t think he was a loser? “No, you didn’t know. It’s ok.” he says, taking another deep breath. “So, what’s up Princey?”

Roman clears his throat. “Well, I wanted to talk about us.” he says, and upon seeing Virgil’s panicked face, he presses on. “I said it’s nothing bad! It isn’t…. hopefully.” Seeing as that didn’t make Virgil’s expression on his face even better, Roman continues. “We’ve been friends for a couple years now, and I like our friendship with our snarky back and forths and all that. But lately, it’s been weird between us, yes? Just the awkward glances and the silent conversations we have with each other. There’s something there that wasn’t there before. Do you know what I’m talking about, Virgil? What that something is?”

Virgil nods, somehow unable to speak. His heart pounded in his chest, nervous. What was Roman gonna do?

Roman continues on. “I think… that I love you, Virgil.” he says firmly, looking Virgil in the eye. “Nay, I know that I love you. I love you and everything that makes you, well, you. From your dark eyeshadow and clothes to you pale skin and snarky humor. I love all of it. I don’t care if you’re too anxious or too sarcastic, I love you for you. You’re a beautiful, dark painting, a gothic masterpiece made to be adored. You’ve cast your spell on me and bewitched my senses, my Exquisite Enchanter, and this is a spell I wish will not break.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if you return my feelings or not, but I just had to let you know. Virgil, will you be the Trick to my Treat?”

Silence fills the room as Virgil takes in the confession. Roman looks down and readies himself for the rejection, the fall out, the foreseeable tragedy that will befall his love life. He hears Virgil sniffling and looks up at his love with tears . “Oh Virgil.” Roman says softly, feeling his heart break. Is this what rejection feels like? “I’m sorry… if I hurt your feelings. I’ll leave you be, then.” He gets up from the couch and walks hastily from the door, trying so hard not to cry. He knew he shouldn’t have opened his mouth, and now all his efforts were ruined, all for nothing. He should just-

“Roman, wait!”

-stop in his tracks and whirl around to hear what Virgil had to say. Roman does just that, turning around and seeing Virgil sitting halfway on the couch, as if he was ready to chase after him. “Yes?” Roman asked, feeling hopeful. Was he not being rejected?

Virgil wipes his tiny tears away. “Don’t just leave when I haven’t even told you my answer, you ass.” he says, looking at Roman. He wasn’t that good at emotions, but he was gonna try, dammit. “Roman, you absolute himbo of a man, you make me have butterflies in my stomach when you’re around.” Off to a great start, Virgil. “And when you’re around, you make me feel…. happier. I don’t feel as sad because you make sunshine appear in my stormy skies. I admire you and your creativity and passion for the things you do. Not only do you make your characters come alive, you make my heart skip a beat whenever I look at you.” His ramble begins to slow down. “You’re my hero in my darkest days, never failing to make me smile with our snarky commentaries. And you, being you, are so amazing in your own unique way, from your talents and charisma and long story short, Roman, I love you too. And yes, I’ll be the Trick to your Treat.”

As soon as Virgil finished speaking, Roman swept Virgil off his feet. “Oh my darling Stormcloud!” Roman exclaimed, laughing at Virgil’s surprised squawks. “I’m so happy you return my affections. I’ll make you the happiest emo witch in the whole entire world. You won’t regret this!” He finally puts Virgil back down, but he still holds him.

“I think I already am.” Virgil groans jokingly, quickly holding onto his witch’s hat as he’s spun and put down. But he smiles bright at the thought of being Roman’s boyfriend, looking up at his vampire with a fond grin.

Roman gasps. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smile so bright!” he exclaims. “It is radiant like the sun, a beauty to behold!”

Virgil hides his face in his hands. “Roman stop!” he pleads, embarrassed with all the analogies and compliments.

“Never!” Roman exclaims happily. “I’ll never stop because you’re mine~!”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Bite me.” he says jokingly, then freezes.

Roman’s face morphed into a teasing smirk, fake fangs on display. “Well, if my Bewitching Beauty insists,” he says, leaning closer to Virgil, pulling the emo towards him. He was so close to Virgil now and the emo gulps nervously, feeling Roman’s breath on his lips. He stops however, looking at Virgil, searching his face for consent.

Virgil nods silently, afraid to even speak. Roman then, slowly, presses their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss. It wasn’t rushed, or messy. It felt perfect for the both of them. And what a perfect way to end Halloween night. A vampire and a witch, in love, who’s only witnesses are the spider curtains, the realistic fake skulls, and a mischievous seven year old who witnessed everything and was definitely not going to tell anyone what he saw. And they wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End

Taglist:

@princessglittermageline @fire-and-ash67 @nini-panini-wears-a-beanie @princey-the-dramaking

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders mention #patton sanders mention #janus sanders mention #remus sanders mention #prinxiety #logicality mention #demus mention #cursing tw #tw cursing #food tw #tw food #hyperventilation tw #tw hyperventilation

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Birthday Wishes (Haunted Van AU)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Logan,

Characters: Patton, Logan, Roman

Summary: Patton gives Logan a birthday gift as soon as he is allowed.

Notes: This is set in the @haunted-van-au before the story in the ask blog takes place.

Patton is selectively mute, though a bit more talkative here than usual since they're (mostly) alone and he's excited.

The prompt was “ Hi! For your Grumpy Affectionate prompts: either 11 with Logan&Patton or 14 with Janus/Patton, choice is yours!” from the GRUMPY AFFECTIONATE STARTERS list. I chose 11. “I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more– shut up.” Logan & Patton, but had to change a bit about the wording.

“Logan,” Patton’s quiet voice said. Logan felt a poke to his cheek. Logan kept his eyes closed, hoping against hope that Patton would relent. Instead, he was poked once again in the face. “Promised. Please.” Why had Logan ever let this little gremlin into his heart? He wondered before blinking open his tired eyes.

“When I said tomorrow, the ‘in the morning’ was implied,” Logan groused.

Patton pointed to a clock that said 12:03am.

“You know what I meant,” Logan said.

Patton pouted at him.

Logan sighed. “Fine. Bring it here.”

Patton clapped his hands happily and hopped off their bed as Logan slowly sat up. Roman grumbled from beside them, still asleep and curled around a pillow. Logan was tempted to wake him up and make him suffer with him but chose to be merciful and let him sleep. Patton could be heard moving under the bed. One of the kids on the bed adjacent to them made a grumbling sound and turned over.

After a few seconds, Patton popped back up with his prize. He was practically vibrating as he handed it to logan. It was… sticky, Logan noticed with a wince, unsure of the source of the stickiness because it was dark. He still brought it closer and laid it in his lap. He leaned over and grabbed his phone from next to his pillow so he could see what Patton was giving him.

It was a box, an old lunch box actually that seemed to have been decorated by hand. Logan winced as a bit of glitter that had been glued to it came off in his hand. That would be all over their sheets forever.

Patton tapped it insistently and Logan diligently unsnapped the clasp on the lunchbox, spilling more glitter into his lap. He wasn’t sure at first what was in the lunch box. It was by all appearances just a small black box. Logan picked it up curiously, shinning the light from his phone on it. He found that the top part of the box slid and as soon as he pushed it up, he realized what it was.

“Oh,” Logan said softly. It was a calculator, a graphing calculator. It appeared to be a very old model, likely not one sold anymore in stores. He was not sure how Patton had acquired it. Perhaps he’d managed to convince a teacher to let him take one from an old classroom set, or he’d bought it off someone for cheap. Yet, despite its age, it powered on under his fingertips and the display seemed to work perfectly fine. It… it was not the suggested calculator his teacher wanted them to use in class, but he imagined it had most of the same functions. Logan was speechless for a few long seconds. “Thank you, Patton.”

Patton made grabby hands for it, clearly indicating that there was something more. Logan handed it to him, and he slid off the cover completely, flipping it around. The instructions that would typically be there no longer were, likely haven been lost long ago. In their place was a slip of paper with a heart and Patton’s messy scrawl that said. ‘Happy birthday. I love you!’

“Thank you, Pat,” Logan said, but Patton held up a finger. He then took said finger and pushed what appeared to be a little button.

“Happy birthday, Logan. I love you honey bunches and oats!” what appeared to be a tapped in sound box taken from a recordable greeting card said in Patton’s voice.

“Oh,” Logan said softly, more moved than he could describe. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Patton. It’s perfect.”

Patton wiggled a bit and then pressed the button again to make it talk again.

“Yes,” Logan said. “I love you too.”

He pressed it again.

“I… yes.”

And again. Roman started to stir. And again. A couple people near them made sounds of protest.

“Patton, please.”

He clearly understood exactly what he was doing and was enjoying it greatly. He pushed it again. Logan jerked forward and he tried to roll to the side to keep the calculator away from him, but Patton had miscalculated. Logan wasn’t going for the calculator. His arms closed around Patton’s waist like a vise and pulled him back into bed. Roman did awake then, groggily sitting up and staring at them.

“Why?” he croaked.

Patton pressed the button again in answer. Logan snatched the calculator from him.

“Right,” Roman said. “Yeah, yeah, happy birthday nerd, or whatever. I’m going back to sleep and you’ll get my present when after the sun rises.”

Patton reached for the calculator, but Logan held it away from him. He gave up after a moment and looked up at Logan. He moved in for a hug, nuzzling his face into Logan’s chest. Logan automatically went to return the hug and Patton tried to snatch the calculator back when it came in range. “Yes, yes,” he laughed when Patton nuzzled against him again in a completely unfair bid to manipulate him into giving him back the calculator. “I crave your affection, but I crave your silence even more- I’m shutting it up for now.” He grabbed the cover and slid it back on before storing the calculator carefully back in the box. “Now, we are going back to sleep because we have to go to school tomorrow.”

Patton puffed out a disappointed breath and Logan chuckled, laying back down and pulling Patton with him. Patton let go of his ire after only a moment, yawning and snuggling against him.

“Happy birthday, Logan,” he said, his voice a lot quieter than it had been on the recording. “Love you honey bunches and oats.”

“…I love you too,” Logan breathed. Content with that, Patton willingly went back to sleep.

Check out @haunted-van-au for more!

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #platonic logicality #roman sanders #not pieces fic #adriana writes #haunted van au #seven days of snowdice

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a-vintage-snake · 3 years

Text

9. In All My Dreams I Drown

Pairing(s): Pre-romantic Dukeceit

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Implied child abuse, vomiting, dirty humor, basically Remus is Very Thirsty™ for that Snake Booty Characters: Janus “Deceit” Sanders, Remus Sanders

Summary: It is time for Remus’ first magic lessons

Word Count: 10213

Author’s Note: Heeeey there... Been a while, huh? Sorry if this took so long, I had to take a mental health break from writing for a while. But the good news is that I joined NaNoWriMo! I didn't hit 50k unfortunately, but I did hit nearly 30k! Anyways, enjoy!

Taglist: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend, @hekking-happy-nonsense, @lockmcduckwoodchuck

If you want to be removed or added to the taglist, just ask!

Read on AO3

He was floating.

Remus wasn’t sure how, but it didn’t matter. He felt light as a feather, a drowsy grin stretching on his face. His gaze idly, unhurriedly, moved up. Stars and galaxies twinkled above him; shining in a symphony of colours that made him half-heartedly wish he had his sketchbook with him. Their light was filtered however… As if he was looking at them from underwater. Was he in the ocean? How was he even breathing?

Remus leaned back against his partner, and all those silly questions left his head. The man behind him was the only solid thing in this floaty, tranquil world of his, and the only thing that mattered right now. Hands ran down Remus’ body, lazily exploring his skin. They traced down his back in small circles, before sliding up and pulling through his hair, making him almost purr in contentment.

“Aren’t you a lovely thing, my little prince.” A voice amusedly crooned into his ear. It was not just a voice. It was without a doubt the loveliest voice Remus had ever heard, and he would never tire of listening to it.

“I’m your lovely thing.” Remus answered with a grin.

“Are you now? Does that mean…” Remus felt a playful bite in his neck, scales dragging along his skin. “You want to stay with me?”

“Yes…” Remus answered in a haze.

“Will you be loyal to me?”

“Yes…”

“Will you help me?”

“Yes…” Remus moaned. “Yes.”

Abruptly the man behind him disappeared and Remus fell. He shouted in surprise as gravity suddenly had its hold back on him as he crashed hard into the painfully solid ground beneath him. Bewildered, he sat up and looked around. The stars above his head died away, one by one. Until he was left in pitch-black darkness.

“Worthless traitor.” A chorus of new voices echoed, the sheer disgust in them making Remus’ stomach turn.

“No! I’m not-! I don’t-!”

“Turn your back on us, after all that we have done for you.”

“You’ve done NOTHING for me!” Remus screamed as he shuffled back. “You deserve what’s coming for you!

“Deserve?” The voices laughed coldly. “You know what you deserve?”

A harsh wind knocked Remus back onto his back.

“You deserve to be punished.”

No! Anything but that! He tried to stand and run, but painfully bumped his head into a sudden low ceiling. He crumpled to the ground, nursing his aching head. The groaning sound of wood and stone surrounded him, deafening him.

The walls-! The walls were closing in!

“No… No!! NO!!” Remus screamed as the room became smaller and smaller, pushing onto him until they were squishing him down. It didn’t stop him from kicking and banging at the unyielding walls, his arms and legs barely able to move in the space that kept getting smaller and smaller. Even as he screamed as hard as he could, he could feel the air becoming thinner and thinner. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe-!!

Then he heard it. The sound he always dreaded. A lock falling into place and a key being turned.

“That is what you deserve.” The cold chorus of disgusted voices said from beyond the walls.

“NO!! PLEASE NO!! LET ME OUT, PLEASE LET ME OUT I WON’T THINK I WON’T SPEAK!!” Remus banged and pounded as the walls pressed in, slowly suffocating him. “JUST LET ME OUT PLEASE!!”

“PLEASE!!” Remus screamed as he rolled over, fighting against the hold the walls had on him. Funnily enough, now they seemed to yield a little easier. They felt a lot softer too. They were white. They were… Sheets?

Panting Remus sat up and looked around wildly. Rough stonewalls, large windows showing mountaintops and a sky slowly turning bright, a small desk and a fireplace… This was not his room-! Where the FUCK was he-??

-Lovely mismatched eyes, looking at him like he was a puzzle he wasn’t quite sure how to solve yet-

Slowly Remus’ breath evened. Oh. Right. Not a hopeful fantasy then. The last few days actually happened.

“Stupid fucking dream…” Remus muttered, trying to free his arms from their cotton prison. Fuck it, the dream had started out so nice too! The ghost memory of the hands in his hair made him sigh. Couldn’t that part just have continued for a little while?

As he sat up and tried to shake away the lingering dread the dream had caused, he looked around his chambers. Heh, funny how his actual life had become more dreamlike in just three days. It was almost impossible to believe!

…Unless he was still dreaming?

He pinched his arm. Nope, definitely awake, and still in the castle of a legendary warlock, who somehow seemed to tolerate his company enough to let him stay here.

…Not only that, he remembered. He was going to be taught magic.

Instantly erasing any leftover terror the dream had caused, Remus grinned widely.

“WOOO!!” He yelled, throwing himself back onto the very soft bed. He rolled around giggling wildly. It got him tangled in the sheets even further, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t hold in all the sheer excitement even if he wanted to try. Him! Him, learning magic!! Remus, the wizard! Remus, the sorcerer! Perhaps some day even… Remus the warlock!

Finally slowing to a halt Remus stared up at the ceiling for a while, his mind reeling with the options of what could happen today. Would he be taught how to do light illusions, just like he had seen on his ninth birthday? Or would he make potions like Virgil did? Perhaps he would be taught how to summon fire!

And let’s not forget just exactly who would be doing the teaching... Remus bit his bottom lip, excited anticipation making him squirm in his place. He had never understood people who had Sexy Teacher fantasies, but oooooh man did he get them now. It would just be the two of them, literal magic in the air… The idea alone made his heart flutter. Ugh, gross, his heart fluttered. Was this how Roman felt whenever he saw Patty-cakes? How did he ever get anything done?

Finally untangling himself from his sheets, Remus jumped out of bed and sprinted towards his luxurious bathroom with an eagerness he hadn’t felt in, well… Ever. He washed and dressed himself hurriedly.

“Right,” He said to his reflection. “Rough start yesterday! But it doesn’t matter! I can still turn this around!”

Can you though? The voice of reason chimed in. Oh wow, he was early today.

“Yes I can! I just need to make sure to act like Roman, and everything will work out just fine!”

Your disillusions could almost be called cute, if they weren’t so damn pathetic.

“Whatever,” Remus dismissed, ignoring the swirl of uncertainty in his stomach. “I just have to channel my inner Roman! I gotta think like Roman!” He placed his fingers at his temples. “Become the Roman! Right! What does Roman like??” He slapped his cheeks. “What. Does. Roman. Like?”

Remus wracked his brain for a few minutes, staring at his reflection with all the concentration of a child trying to win a staring contest.

“…Horse riding!” He eventually blurted. “Chubby men! The latest fashion trends! Boring dinners! What’s that? Why, I certainly want to kiss that ugly ass baby of yours! Just as long as it doesn’t drool on my ivory jacket! No, it’s not white, it’s ivory, you uncivilized peasant! Oh, let me just flip my luscious locks in this non-existent breeze as I trot towards the dance floor!”

Satisfied Remus nodded at himself. Oh yeah. He had this in the bag.

Leaving his chambers Remus took off towards the dining room. It had taken him a couple of hours yesterday, but eventually he had found his bedchambers again, where a small lunch was waiting for him. He had taken the rest of the day to map out the route between his bedchambers and the dining room until he was confident he could find it without too much trouble. Honestly, this place was a goddamn maze.

In the end he took only one wrong turn before he found the dining room again. The warlock wasn’t there yet. Remus shrugged off his disappointment as he took the same seat as he did the day before. He supposed he was too early anyway. The sober food hadn’t changed; they were still the same plates filled with fruits, dark bread and dried fish. Not exactly a varied diet in this castle, heh?

No matter. Remus' stomach growled anyhow. He already reached out to fill his plate, but paused midway. Uncertainly his hand hovered over the food. Was he… Allowed to eat now? His host hadn’t arrived yet… What if he accidentally insulted him by not waiting for him?

He shook his head. It was not worth the potential reprimand if he did eat. So Remus sat back and waited.

And waited.

Remus wiggled in his seat, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table. Boredom quickly took over. Fuck, he shouldn’t have arrived this early. Now what was he supposed to do?

He eyed the spare firewood for a second, but the dinner knife turned out to be too dull for whittling. He really missed his sketchbook by now. Why oh why hadn’t he brought it on his quest with him?

With nothing else to do Remus let his head fall back against the chair and started to tap out a little tune on the table. He hummed lowly, little no nonsense lyrics floating to his brain as he experimented with the melody.

“Went to the mountains today,” He sang to himself. “Went to the mountains and expected to slay… Little did I know that I would stay, oooh that I would stay…”

Really getting into it, Remus gently started tapping a knife against his glass alongside his other hand that still tapped the table, creating a whole new melody.

“Went to the mountains to find my destiny,” He now rocked back and forth in his chair. “How could I know that instead destiny would find me?”

“Very lovely.” A voice commented. Remus jumped in his chair with a shout, knocking over his glass. His heart beat a mile a minute as he turned to the right, finding the warlock sitting in the opposite chair, looking as hot as ever. Eris was once more wrapped around his shoulders, and the cobra glowered suspiciously at him.

“An original?” Deceit asked with a half smirk.

“Uuh, yeah,” Remus nodded as he looked between Deceit and the door, which he confirmed with a quick glance was still closed. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack or is scaring people shitless just a hobby of yours?”

Fuck, Remus cringed, that was too forward, wasn’t it? Too Remus, not enough Roman. Luckily the warlock only shrugged.

“Nothing like a little scare in the morning to get the blood pumping, as I totally always say,” Deceit grabbed an apple from the fruit plate. “Don’t you agree?”

Remus quickly nodded. He would agree with anything as long as the warlock just kept talking in that velvety voice. Somehow he kept forgetting just how brain meltingly gorgeous it was.

“You’re quite early.” The warlock said as he rubbed the apple against his sleeve. “Bad night or just eager to start the day?”

“Eager to start the day!” Remus beamed, cheerfully ignoring his dream from last night. “I am ready to do some magic!” Enthusiastically he started piling his plate full. “Let me just eat something real quick and then I’m ready-!”

“You haven’t eaten yet?” The warlock frowned.

Remus halted. “No…?” He said uncertainly.

“Why ever not?”

“I… Uhh…” Remus fidgeted. “I wasn’t sure if it was… Allowed?”

“Allowed? Oh stars above…”

Remus cringed. He did something wrong. Already. For fuck’s sake, the day hadn’t even started yet!

Obviously. What did you expect?

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly.

“No, you don’t need to-! Remus, understand this,” The warlock’s voice lost all its teasing quality. “You are completely free to do whatever you need to make yourself at home here. You don’t need my permission to eat, drink or otherwise make yourself comfortable. I mean, goodness,” The warlock huffed a laugh as he lifted the apple to his lips. “Next you’ll ask me to bathe you.”

Remus quickly shoved a forkful of fish in his mouth before he could moan out ‘Oh, please do’. The salty flavour sobered him up enough to not let any delightful bathing fantasies grab his attention for too long. Chewing like his sanity depended on it Remus quickly shoved a few more bites into his mouth, looking to his right to show that yes! He was eating now! Only to find that the warlock paid him no mind, focusing on his own food instead. Deceit’s fangs glistened in the light of the fire as he finally sunk his teeth into the apple, breaking the skin and taking a bite. A drop of juice gathered at the corner of his mouth, and he absentmindedly licked it away. Did Remus’ eyes fool him, or had it been a split tongue he had gotten a brief flash of?

Remus had to gulp and swallow his food, even though it was too big of a mouthful to go down comfortably. This was unfair; this was so unfair! No one was allowed to be this hot while just eating a fucking apple, of all things.

He wanted to lean forward and kiss him breathless. He wanted to taste the sweetness of the apple on his tongue. He wanted those fangs to bite his bottom lip, a low growl emitting from the warlock. He wanted to pull back, look in those mismatched eyes and hear him say-

“You’re stabbing your face with a fork.”

Remus blinked, the images disappearing, leaving him with the very real warlock giving him a weird look. “Wha…?” He asked dumbly.

“The fork you’re currently stabbing in your own face?” Deceit repeated deadpan, and now Remus finally noticed the pricking sensation in his cheek. He floundered, almost dropping the utensil as he quickly threw the fork over his shoulder.

“I do that! Sometimes!” Remus fumbled as the fork landed behind him with a ting. “Part of my, uuuhm…” Shit, shit! Quick! What would Roman say, what would Roman say??

“…Skin care routine?”

Somewhere, somehow, Remus’ inner Roman started crying.

“Ah, of course!” Deceit said. “How silly of me, to just forget the single most important step of every skincare routine!”

“HAhahahha, yeaaah…” Remus choked. “So silly!”

“Well then,” The warlock dropped the half eaten apple on his plate. “If you’re finished with eating and your, ahem- skin care routine,” Deceit rose from his chair. “How about we get started?”

“What are we going to do first??” Remus asked, barely able to keep himself from hopping up and down as he followed the warlock through the castle’s halls. “Fire from my hands?? Light illusions?? Holy shit, am I going to learn how to teleport??”

Eris gave him a disapproving glare, but the warlock only chuckled. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm, we’re going to start with something different.”

“Oh.” Remus shoulders sagged. “Like what?”

Deceit threw him an amused look over his shoulder. “Like some beginners lessons, perhaps?”

“Aaaw…”

“No need to sound so disappointed! We’ll get where you want eventually.”

“Tomorrow?” Remus hopefully asked.

“No.”

“Aaaw!”

“Honestly,” The warlock laughed and stopped in his tracks to turn to him. “Do you expect to become an expert at everything you do within a day?”

“No, but I would sure as hell would like to!”

“Don’t we all…” The warlock shook his head. “But I’m afraid that’s not how it works. Magic, like all crafts, requires studying, time and discipline.”

Remus grimaced. Oh great, his least favourite STD.

“Look, I know you said you’re an amazing teacher, and I believe you!” Remus tried again. “But I was not joking when I said I’m horrible at learning!”

“I still don’t believe that.”

Trust me, you will, the voice of reason piped in, making Remus wince.

“Isn’t there like a magical amulet or something that can give me super instant magic?” Remus asked. “Instead of wasting your time?

“That’s now how magical amulets work, or even how magic works,” Deceit laughed. “A magical amulet can only enhance a person’s magic, not create it.”

Not even trying to stifle the desperate whine that left his throat Remus threw his hands up in frustration. “Then how does magic work??”

The warlock thought that over a few seconds. “Imagine…” Deceit eventually slowly said. “Imagine the world around you as a calm lake. And see magic as dropping a stone in the middle of that lake. One small act creates a ripple, which spreads over the water. Changing the world as its waves surge through it. Of course, that calm lake would have remained a calm lake if you had never been there. Because those ripples start…” Deceit tapped a finger against Remus’ chest. “With you.”

Remus held a hand over the place where the warlock touched. His heart thrummed against his palm.

“So…” Remus frowned, his head slightly spinning. “Magic is like water where I dropped a stone in…?”

“Correct.”

“…But if that stone sinks, does that mean the world will just swallow up my magic? And if they’re ripples, does that mean that magic eventually becomes less powerful the more it spreads?

“I-” Deceit blinked a few times, looking mildly bewildered. “No? I mean, that’s not-! Look, it’s not a perfect metaphor-!”

“Also how big is the stone? I mean a stone won’t give much ripples! Why not throw a rock in? A boulder?? An entire mountain-!”

“The point is!” Deceit interrupted. “That all the things you wish to do won’t be possible if you don’t summon your own core magic first! That is the key to magic, not spells or potions!”

“Does that mean spells are the ripples-?”

“Forget the ripples!” Deceit said through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry.”

The warlock raised a hand. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, his eyes were burning in that now familiar spellbinding molten gold. The gold spread through his veins, his face and hands coming alive like rivers of lava rushed through him instead of blood. Even Eris lit up, the ridges between her scales glowing gold as if red hot coals burned inside of her. Remus stared breathlessly as Deceit became a living golden statue, light pouring from him and Eris, lighting up the dark hallway like they trapped sunlight in their very forms.

“Summon your core magic,” Deceit spoke, gold pouring from his mouth. “With it you can accomplish anything your heart desires, and change your world.”

Currently what Remus’ heart desired was finding out if Deceit’s tongue would burn his if he leaned in and captured those lovely lips in a kiss, but somehow he didn’t think that’s exactly what the warlock meant.

“Summoning my core magic!” Remus grinned and clapped his hands. “Awesome!” His grin tempered somewhat. “How do I do that?”

Deceit closed his hand, and the glow in his eyes and veins disappeared. Eris returned to her normal state as well. Remus blinked some spots in his vision away. His eyes had to get used to the sudden darkness of the hallway again. Taking a calming breath Deceit crossed his arms at the small of his back.

“Close your eyes.”

Remus frowned but obeyed, uncertainly closing his eyes.

“Breathe in deeply,” The warlock’s voice ordered. Remus inhaled. “Very good. Now exhale through your mouth. Think of nothing. Let all thoughts pass by and leave you…”

Think of nothing? Well shit, if that was a requirement for using magic he was fucked.

“Relax your muscles. That includes that frown you currently have.”

Remus quickly relaxed the muscles in his face, allowing his shoulders to sag.

“Continue to breathe deeply. Inhale… Exhale. Inhale… Exhale.”

Remus followed the pattern that the warlock set for a few minutes. He felt a little silly, standing in a hallway and breathing like he was an old man trying to calm his heart after running a marathon. But if it meant listening to that voice for a little longer he was more than happy to continue this odd little exercise.

“Continue breathing in this same pattern,” Deceit said. His voice was slower now, softer. “Now, as you continue breathing… Allow the world to fall away. In this very moment, there is nothing in this universe but you and my voice. Everything else ceases to exist.”

Nothing else existed? Man, what he wouldn’t give for a universe where it was just the two of them…

“Continue breathing like I showed you,” The warlock’s voice had shifted. Now it came from his right, still ever so quiet. “With every breath the world falls away bit by bit, until the only thing left is you. You, and my voice… At this very moment, you need nothing else.”

The warlock’s voice continued to circle him, closer and closer, yet Remus heard no footsteps. Not even when he strained his ears. His head felt incredibly fuzzy. If it weren’t for the solid ground beneath his feet he would think that the warlock spoke the truth. That in this moment Deceit had taken away everything and left only them, drifting in the vastness of space. The thought was exhilarating.

“Turn yourself inwards…” The warlock said, slower and softer, closer to him than before. “Feel every inhale, every beat of your heart. Search deep inside yourself…”

Remus’ head spun. The world truly became a distant mirage for a brief second, and he distinctly felt like he was floating outside of his own body. Now even the ground felt distant and far away, as if he had left behind such commonalities as stone and mortar. Perhaps, in this moment he really didn’t need them. Fuck, he felt weird… Weird… But amazing.

“Very good, Remus.” Deceit’s voice suddenly came from right behind him, and just like that Remus fell and was slamdunked back into his own body. He jolted, acutely aware of the world around him. The ground beneath his feet, every itch on his arm, every blow of the wind outside and most concerning of all, the very real and solid presence behind him. Warm breath hit the back of his neck, making his hairs stand on end.

“Turn yourself inwards,” Deceit whispered in his silk on leather voice, making all kinds of delicious shivers roll down Remus’ spine and his head fill with warm, bed-tousled fantasies. “Feel your heart beating, in rhythm with every little part of you. Here, at this very place… You will find your core magic.”

Don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner, Remus thought desperately. Don’t get a boner, don’t get a-

Suddenly, Deceit pressed a hand between his shoulder blades, and Remus’ head snapped back with a sharp gasp.

Magic!

Like lightening it struck, alighting every nerve in his body in response. Magic streamed through his blood, bold and confident, filling his head and making it spin with light. This was not like how the hypnotizing had felt. That had filled only his head, dulling his senses and making him feel lazy. This sparked up every cell, every inch of him awakened by its call. His heart beat out an enthusiastic rhythm, answering the thrum of magic that rushed through his body with a melody of its own. Remus blinked his eyes open and gasped again at the sight of his hands. His veins were lit up in a golden glow, making his hands tingle and tremble. He did not need a mirror to know his eyes were alighted in that same golden flare.

The warlock pulled his hand back, and just like that the magic rushed away. Remus wanted to howl when the magic started to leave him. He wanted to grab onto the feeling with claws and teeth, to try to keep it inside of him like a dragon guarding its hoard. Let him have that confident feeling just a little longer, please!

No use. The magic left, leaving him feeling empty as Remus grasped his heart and resisted the urge to cry. He was shaking. Shaking as every fibre of him wanted that feeling back.

“And that,” Deceit said casually, as if he hadn’t just reduced Remus to a trembling mess. “Is magic. Do you understand now why you must summon that first?”

Remus turned to him, shakily. “I want to do that too.” He said breathlessly.

“You will. In time.” Deceit said lightly. “Here is your first assignment. From this day on you will do this breathing exercise every day, until your core magic is brought forth. Understand?”

Remus nodded wildly. “What are some other beginners lessons??” He asked eagerly. He had to get that feeling back, no matter what it took. The warlock smiled, and Remus felt his heart skip a beat. If that happened every time this man so much as looked his way, he would have died from a heart attack by nightfall.

“I know the perfect place to start.” Deceit said.

He really had to get used to infinite stairs if he was going to live here for the near future, huh? Remus would never have called himself unfit, but right now the sweat was starting to bead on his forehead and his breath came in heavy pants. The warlock ahead of him didn’t appear to be troubled at all. They had done nothing but climb stairs for what felt like ages, yet he still looked as if he freshly stumbled out of a dark fairy-tale. Eris hadn’t moved from her spot on Deceit’s shoulders, and occasionally she casted a look down at him full of mocking disdain. Remus had no idea how a cobra could convey this sheer amount of dignified disgust at him when she didn’t even have facial features, yet here he was.

“You try climbing all these stairs!” He mouthed at her when she gave him again another look as if she smelled something foul (to be fair, he had been climbing for a while now). Eris pulled up her nose at him with an “Hmph!”movement and nestled her head into the warlock’s curls. Remus squinted bitterly.

He was not going to be jealous of a snake, he was not going to be jealous of a snake-!

As if she tasted his bitterness in the air, Eris burrowed herself a little deeper into the warlock’s hair and threw him such a smug look Remus considered strangling her for a brief second. He settled on sticking his tongue out at her instead, grinning at insulted hiss he got in return.

“Will you two stop fighting?” Deceit exasperatedly said over his shoulder. Remus jumped. How the fuck did he-?

“You,” Deceit said as he scratched Eris’ yellow and black scales. “I told you to be nice.” Eris grumbled and moodily slithered her head inside the warlock’s cloak.

“As for you,” The warlock stopped and turned to Remus, who halted sheepishly in his steps. “Please stop antagonizing my familiar. Trust me, it’s not going to help you endear yourself to her. She’s a delicate lady.”

Remus took one glance at the cobra, who stuck her head out from her hiding place just enough to bare her fangs at him, the murder clear in her eyes and was just about to comment that they had a very different definition of what ‘delicate’ meant, when he frowned.

“Wait, what’s a fami-?”

“Keep up, we’re almost there.” The warlock interrupted as he resumed climbing the stairs. Remus cursed and quickly followed, despite his lungs and legs protesting.

Eventually they reached the top of the stairs, which led them to a narrow hallway with worn double doors at the end. Remus felt some of the sweat on his back turn cold. Hurriedly scrambling after Deceit he tried his best to ignore how the walls seemed to grow narrower and narrower the closer they got the doors.

“Doors!” Remus giggled nervously, trying to distract himself from the hallway. “Obviously the most magical thing of all!”

The warlock chuckled. “You might be more right than you think…” And with that, he pushed the doors open.

Remus blinked at the unexpected brightness that came pouring from the open doors. When he was adjusted to the sudden influx of light and looked around his mouth dropped open. Funny, it had been doing that a lot recently.

They were in a greenhouse. Somehow, at the high top of this mountain, there was a fucking greenhouse. Following the warlock in and instantly forgetting the narrow hallway, Remus spun on his feet to take everything in. The temperature was much milder in here than the rest of the castle, making him relax at the warmth. The distant sound of rushing water filled his ears. Suddenly he wished he had been born with a head completely covered in eyeballs just so he could take in every little detail of the greenhouse and its multitude of greenery. The high glass pane ceiling illuminated the vast array of plants, some he recognized, and some he didn’t. An apple tree stood next to a long elongated plant with large purple flowers, whose leaves swayed as if they were tousled in a non-existent wind. Familiar flowers like roses, daffodils and lilies grew alongside flowers who looked like see-through pink glass, or ones whose petals flickered like a small candle flame. Plants folded their leaves open like silk green fans, others let theirs droop like little golden bells. A willowy tree that carried curtains of silver clustered flowers opened its petals as Deceit and Remus walked past them, and unfurled to reveal long yellow stamens thick with pollen.

“Keep up, will you.” The warlock’s voice came from further ahead. Remus shook his head and tore his gaze away from the plants for now to catch up with Deceit. Hidden amongst the green there stood a worn table, wedged against a rocky wall where a modest indoor waterfall steadily rushed. Remus guessed this had to be where the castle stopped and the mountains began. The steady sound of rushing water became louder, louder than the small stream could be. Remus curiously walked up to the large windows that were opposite of the wall. They were foggy with little water droplets, but could not hide the massive waterfall right next to the window, plunging into a depth that made Remus’ legs feel all jumbly.

“Wicked…” Remus breathed.

“It is quite spectacular, isn’t it?” Deceit said, a pleased undertone in his voice. Remus tore his gaze away from the waterfall to look back at the warlock, who rummaged through the equipment that was scattered all over the table. As Deceit searched through a short pile of books that stood at the edge, Remus stepped closer and curiously inspected the table’s contents. There was a mortar and pestle, a watering can, a wooden cutting board and a knife etched with runes on the side, a book flipped open to a page explaining the anatomy of a plant he did not recognize and more dried plants than he ever saw. More so even than the collection Virgil had hanging from his ceiling, back home.

“What do these do??” He asked, pointing at the runes on the knife.

“A bit more patience, I will start the lesson shortly. But before I do that… Aha!” Finally founding what he was looking for, Deceit turned back to him. “This…” He held something out for him. “Is for you.”

Remus hesitantly took what the warlock held out for him. It was a book. A small, leather-bound tome. Curiously Remus flipped through it, only to find that the pages were all blank.

“What is this? Horrid Spells written in invisible ink?” Remus frowned up at the warlock, who chuckled.

“I’m so tempted to say yes, but no. This,” Deceit tapped a finger against the leather cover. “Is your very own grimoire.”

Remus blinked. “My what now?”

“Your grimoire. Or Book of Shadows, spell book, whatever you wish to call it. The name is not as important as its purpose.”

“Which… is?”

“To document your journey. Everything you learn about magic you put it here. Not only to track your progress, but also to look back if you ever need to remember something you might have forgotten. A grimoire marks a diligent student, and later a true magic user.”

“Wow… Uhm, okay.” Remus turned the book over in his hands, inspecting the simple black leather and the yellowed pages. Now that he thought about it, hadn’t Virgil always read and written in a tattered tome bound in black leather? He wondered if he got his own grimoire from the warlock too…

Oooh, how cool would it be if he used the blood of his enemies to write in this?? Now THAT would make it a properly badass cursed spellbook-

Remus quickly shook his head and repressed that thought faster than Logan would dismiss his weird experiment ideas. Oh nice, he was getting good at that!

“Thank you.” Remus said sincerely as he held the book against his chest. It had been years since anyone had given him something, anything, even as simple as a book. He wished he could give something back in return. What would Roman do? Pay him a compliment maybe…? But what was a good non-weird compliment?

Tell him his face is magnificent, and you totally want to sit on-

Remus quickly squashed that down. Nope, nope, definitely not!

“Now then,” Deceit smiled as he handed Remus a short pencil. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes!!” Remus grabbed the pencil, bouncing in his spot. Finally! “Yes, yes, yes please!!”

“I like your attitude. Here is your first study subject,” Deceit gestured to their surroundings. “Herbology.”

Remus blinked a few times. “Hebelowhatnow?”

“Herbology, meaning the study of magical and mundane plants and their use in occult practices. It is the perfect start for a beginner, as herbology is a type of magic where you don’t necessarily need to have other magical qualities to become an expert in.” Deceit explained as he grabbed and filled the watering can at the indoor waterfall. “And much like potions, it is more of a science than an art.”

“Right, awesome!” Remus opened the book and hastily scribbled ‘Hebelogie’ on the first page. “So is herbology just a fancy name for gardening?”

Deceit chuckled. “Not exactly.” He took his watering can and took off into the greenhouse. Remus followed.

“While it’s true that there are obvious similarities between gardening and herbology, they are two very different things,” Deceit explained while they walked, occasionally watering one of the plants. “For one, gardening is for plants used for either beautification or consumption. A herbology garden is explicitly used for magical purposes.”

“Makes sense, makes sense…” Remus nodded seriously, hoping to sound very knowledgeable.

“Secondly,” Deceit halted for a minute and drew a rune in the dirt of a small bush with heart shaped fruits. “While spells and runes can absolutely be applied in an ordinary garden as well, it’s more common to do these things in a herbology garden.”

“Spells and runes, gotcha!” Remus tried to see what kind of rune Deceit had drawn, but he had to catch up to the other before he could get a clear look.

“Lastly, and most importantly, there are some plants that no gardener without magical experience should ever handle. For example.”

The warlock halted before the tree with the silver clusters of flowers. Once again the flowers unfurled to reveal their yellow stamens. The warlock stooped down and grabbed a bucket with a tightly closed lid, which had been hidden under the greenery of another plant.

“Observe.” He said as he opened the lid. Immediately the sickly stench of rotten meat drifted upwards, making the warlock draw back with a small flinch. Even so though he reached into the bucket with his bare hand, grabbing a handful of slimy, rancid meat and righting himself. Remus’ head completely blanched on the many questions he had as he saw how the tree’s stamens righted themselves, swaying back and forth, as if it reacted to the smell.

“Putidus Carptus.” Deceit said as he threw the meat right into the awaiting flowers. The branches immediately wrapped themselves around the meat, pulling it inwards and out of sight. “Otherwise known as ‘Soldier’s Despair’ in farmer’s tongue. A tree known for sprouting in the midst of a ravaged battlefield, eating away any rot and decay around it. Whole forests have been known to sprout in prior combat zones.” He threw another piece of meat into the flowers, which was met with equal enthusiasm. “Usually it dies out if it has eaten all the decay, but when hungry enough in its final days of bloom it has been known for eating fresh meat as well in its desperation.” The warlock murmured a quick spell and the filth on his hand disappeared. “Funnily enough, it’s flowers and stamens can be used to create multiple healing potions for various illnesses. Just goes to show you even Mother Nature likes irony sometimes.”

Remus nodded, open mouthed and only half hearing the explanation. He stared, starry eyed, at the moving branches as they ate away at the meat.

“That… Is…” He said with a growing grin on his face. “So…” Amazing, awesome, fucking cool as SHIT, his mind supplies, but he said none. Biting back his grin he considered his options. Yes, he thinks it’s cool, but Roman would hate the plant. In fact, he would probably be disgusted by it!

Be like Roman, he reminded himself. Be. Like. Roman.

“…Disturbing,” Remus said finally, despite his heart wanting to stick his hand in the flowers and see if they would nibble on him too. “So very disturbing.”

The warlock gave a short hum. “Its beauty may be lost to those who look no further than what purpose it can serve, but I can appreciate its willingness to do a dirty job.”

Suddenly uncertain if he had said the right thing, Remus turned to the other to ask more. Deceit however seemed to already have moved on, now picking away dead branches of a very normal looking apple tree.

“But if this is a magical garden,” He asked, repressing his doubt for now. “Why are things like apples here? Isn’t that regular garden stuff?”

“Hardly. While it’s true that some plants have more… Obvious magical qualities than others,” Deceit picked away another branch, “More ‘mundane’ plants can actually enhance intentions in spells and potions.”

“Right. Because…” Remus thought for a second. “You choose them based on what your intent with a spell is…?” He hesitantly asked. He was rewarded for his question with another brain melting smile from the warlock.

“That is correct. Well deduced.”

Remus felt something in him swell with pride. He couldn’t remember the last time a teacher (or anyone really) complimented him. Usually people either looked disgusted or annoyed when he asked questions.

Then it hit him. The perfect compliment. One that wasn’t gross or inappropriate. Wiggling his shoulders in excitement he propped his elbow on the tree next to the warlock and planted his other hand on his side.

“So… He started, hoping he sounded casual and failing miserably. “Herbology, potions, spells…” He smiled what he thought was a good imitation of Roman’s signature golden smile. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

The warlock’s smile fell. A flash of some emotion crossed his face, but it was gone before Remus could decipher what it was.

“…Let’s continue.” Deceit said flatly as he turned away from the tree, leaving Remus in his prime flirting pose feeling very confused. After a few seconds of him puzzling what the fuck just happened Remus hastily scrambled after him. Obviously he had said something wrong… But what? For the life of him he could not figure out what.

He’s probably just disgusted by you. Accept it.

“Uuuh, hey!” Remus called out to drown the voice of reason. Deceit stopped and turned.

“What?” He said in that same flat tone. Remus winced, his eyes darting for something, anything-!

“Roses!” Remus quickly said.

“…What about them?” Deceit raised an eyebrow.

“Well, uhm- What kind of magical qualities do roses have?” Remus gestured to the plants in question, which grew alongside the path they currently walked. “I mean the gardens back home were full of them! Don’t tell me I had a secret stash of magic supplies right under my nose and wasted an opportunity to sell them off to the highest bidder!”

Deceit’s stance eased. “Ah, good question.” He said. Remus sagged in relief. Good save there.

“It’s true that roses have no overt magical qualities,” The warlock said made his way to Remus and smoothed out some of the roses. “But they’re used in plenty of potions and spells as enhancers.”

“Like what kind?” Remus asked curiously.

“The thorns can be used in protection spells and minor curses,” Deceit fussed over a white rose, one that hadn’t quite bloomed yet. “With the petals it depends on the colour. Remember, intent is everything. White petals for example can be used for blessings, while yellow petals are useful in anti-depressant potions.”

“Right,” Remus nodded as he scribbled ‘patels and colur meening’ in his grimoire. “And red petals?”

“Oh, those are used for love potions, aphrodisiacs, that kind of thing.”

“R-Really…?” Remus gave himself a mental pat on the back as he managed to push away the delightfully delicious images that the word aphrodisiacs conjured up. “That- That’s interesting…”

“You know,” Deceit said slowly as he looked at the rosebud. “It’s here you find the real difference between gardeners and herbalists.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. While we both agree that nature will always do the most work, sometimes we can give…” Deceit gently touched the bud. A spark of gold flickered at his fingertips, before it spread through the veins of the flower like thin glowing rivers. “A helping hand.”

The flower trembled as it slowly, ever so slowly, unfurled its petals. The golden veins glimmered, casting Deceit’s face in soft light. Lightly Deceit cupped the flower and leaned in to inhale its scent. Remus couldn’t help but stare as a smile softened the sharp angles of the warlock’s face.

“I wish I was that rose…” Remus muttered reverently.

“What did you say?” Deceit blinked up at him.

“I SAID YOU’RE GROSS!!” Remus blurted.

Slapping a hand in front of his mouth, Remus stared at the warlock’s stunned face. Oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK-

How the fuck do I get myself out of this, what do I do what do I DO-??? Don’t let him ask questions do something follow your instinct QUICK!!!

Turning, Remus grabbed and pulled the nearest plant from the ground and shoved it into his mouth.

“No wait, DON’T EAT THAT-!!”

Remus hurled, and added some more of his stomach fluids into the empty flowerpot he was currently hunched over. He lost count at this point how many times he had puked into the clay pot by now, and yet the vomit still came at an alarming speed. The cool hands that diligently brushed his hair back as he was unpleasantly reacquainted with his breakfast only made this whole situation so much worse.

“Well then,” The warlock said dryly. “Hopefully this will be a wise lesson not to eat any plant you’ve never seen before.”

Another miserable roll of his stomach made Remus heave out some more fluids. At this point it was nothing but bile. “W-What the fuck did I eat…?” He managed to miserably whine out.

“That was a little plant called “Atrejeci”. Or, as it is more commonly known, Charcoal Root. In its diluted form it can purify mild poisons from your bloodstream. In its undiluted form however it just purifies the body…” Deceit paused as Remus puked out some more stomach acid. “…In a more literal sense.”

“Cool,” Remus muttered pitifully. “Cool cool cool cool cool. How long is this going to last exactly…?”

“Seeing as you ate nearly half a plant, you’ll probably be here a while.”

“Great…”

“Not to worry, it shouldn’t be fatal in the long run as long as we treat it well.” The warlock patted him between the shoulder blades. “I’m going to get you some water. You’ll be losing a lot of liquids in the coming hour, and we need to make sure you don’t get dehydrated.”

“Okay, you do that…” Remus babbled as footsteps echoed away from him. “I’ll be here…!” He heaved again and leaned his sweaty forehead against the flowerpot’s cool edge. “Not going anywhere…”

Nice going, idiot. Nothing quite says “romance” like gratuitous vomiting!

“Well at least I distracted him…” Remus muttered. His stomach felt like it was determined to burn a hole through his flesh and turn him into the world’s most horrifying fountain.

Ah yes, at least you did that… All the while showing how you are nothing but a screw-up. How long do you think those magic lessons will last now?

“Shut up-” Remus murmured miserably before he felt another hurl coming up and he had to spit out more bile.

The serene sounds of vomiting followed Deceit as he made his way to his little indoor waterfall. His new student was an… Odd one, to say the least.

“he’s an idiot.” Eris contributed from his shoulders.

“Be nice, dear.” Deceit distractedly muttered.

“he does not take this seriously. why do you bother?”

“On the contrary,” Deceit answered as he grabbed a wooden pitcher from his supply table. “I think he takes it incredibly seriously.”

Eris gave him a disbelieving head tilt. “how can you tell?”

“Because, my sceptical serpent,” Deceit gave Eris a small flick on her nose, earning him an offended hiss and a snap at his fingers in return. “He wants this chance to prove himself to a near desperate degree.”

Yes, spending more time with Remus this day had given him a clearer image of the prince. The eagerness to please, the careless willingness to put his life into the hands of a complete stranger, the disbelieving joy when he got even the smallest of compliments, the fear and badly hidden flinches when he did something wrong… All of it was starting to paint a picture, and not a very pretty one.

With a scowl he held a pitcher in the waterfall. Goodness, just when he thought he couldn’t hate Augusto more… The man unfortunately just kept surprising him.

Oh well… In a weird sense he supposed he should be thankful that his nemesis had screwed up his parenting this badly. If he hadn’t, it would have been so much harder to persuade Remus to his side. Now he didn’t even need to do anything! The ease almost unnerved him a little bit. Although he definitely could have used that same kind of ease with his… Previous student…

He had wandered quite a bit further from the castle than he usually did. He tried to convince himself it was because he was looking for a specific herb for one of his potions, but in truth… It had been for no other reason than pure restlessness.

The lights of the small city at the base of the mountain gleamed in the darkness of the night. Occasionally shouting of drunken folk would echo upwards to where Deceit stood, silent and observing. He had gotten close enough to the houses that he could see the people walking in the streets, crawling around like busy little ants. Usually he avoided coming this close but alas, it appeared that his hubris had gotten the better of him yet again. Though he doubted anyone would see him even if they did bother to look up. His black cloak made him one with the shadows. Invisible to those unsuspecting fools who cowered at the mere mention of his existence.

The night sky deepened, and one by one the lights went out in the city. People sought out their warm homes and comfy beds, yet the warlock kept looking until the quiet of the mountains pressed in on him once more. Like he was suffocated under a pillow.

Deceit sighed. Why did he come here? More importantly, why did he stay here so long? Reluctantly he tore his gaze away from the darkened city and started to walk up the path he walked a thousand times before. Eris would probably have started to worry by now. He better try to come up with some good excuse-

He stopped. He perked his ears, frowning. Deceit had been in the mountains for a very, very long time. He knew every sound these peaks and valleys made at night by heart, every creature’s howl, every whisper the wind would carry.

What he heard now however? That decidedly did not belong here.

Curiously he followed the sound. To him it almost sounded like a wounded animal, but the closer and closer he got he slowly realized that couldn’t be it. That’s how he found the ravine.

The ravines could be found all throughout the mountains. Treacherous, gaping chasms hidden in the rough landscape. Invisible to the eye until it was too late. Especially in the dark, when the shadows would hide their depths until someone stumbled into them. Deceit suspected that these fissures had added more people to the missing list than he ever did. Unless you were very careful or knew the mountain paths well it was almost impossible to avoid them.

Treading carefully towards the rocky edge of the fissure, Deceit peered in. It was not as deep as some of these ravines could get, but still deep enough that the moonlight did not reach all the way down. Luckily Deceit’s night vision had always been very good, so he could just make out the figure squirming at the bottom. Hurt grunts floated up towards him as the person in the fissure tried to wobbly stand, only to fall back over with an anguished wail.

Deceit tilted his head. Why on earth had they tried to enter the Desolate Mountains? Surely if they lived this close they must have heard the stories of him and his infamous reputation. Hadn’t those been enough? He almost felt a little insulted.

Well, he supposed it didn’t matter now. Whoever the poor sod was, if they were hurt they wouldn’t be able to climb out of the fissure by themselves. They would just become another disappearance. Another rumour for the gossipers down below. Deceit shrugged and turned to leave.

“Shit-! Come on, get up get up-! OW!!”

Deceit froze on the spot. The voice that drifted upwards from the fissure kept on babbling, panicked, pained and…

And they sounded so young.

Another distressed ‘No, no! Get up please!’ floating up only confirmed it. Whoever it was down there, they were young. Hell, they sounded like they hadn’t quite hit puberty yet. Maybe it was one of those snot-lipped city kids who dared each other to go in the mountains to prove how brave they were. But even then they never got this far up! Why had this kid travelled all this way?

Deceit shook his head. It was none of his business. Surely if their parents missed them they would come and look for them.

…But would they be on time? Even if they dared to enter the mountains for a rescue mission (which was unlikely) it did not guarantee that the kid was found before a predator with less mercy than Deceit would. Or before he starved to death, or any other gruesome fate. The mountains were cruel, especially to those who were hurt. By this rate the kid would most likely be dead by morning…

No, this was ridiculous! He didn’t know the little idiot, and besides! They knew the dangers when they went into the mountains! It was their own fault for coming here!

Deceit knew all that, and yet his feet refused to move away from the fissure. A pained cry echoed towards him, causing something to tug at the tattered strings of his heart and- Oh no, was that his conscious talking??? He thought he got rid of that thing years ago!

Another distressed wail. Deceit closed his eyes, frustration and resignation coming out in a long grunting sigh before he snapped his fingers and transported himself. Right before the teenager stuck at the bottom of the ravine.

At first they didn’t notice him. The boy- Or at least, Deceit thought it was a boy- looked to be around twelve or thirteen. Dark locks fell down in unruly bangs, hiding away his eyes behind a thick curtain of hair. The boy grunted and grabbed the rocky wall to try to stand up once more. Incredibly dumb of him. If Deceit had to judge from the sight of the boy’s ankle, which was wrapped in improvised bandages darkened with blood and bent at an angle that couldn’t mean anything good, he had made quite a nasty fall.

As Deceit moved to get a better look, the boy finally noticed him and fell back down with a startled shout.

“Who are you?!” The boy yelled, shuffling backwards. Deceit held up his hands in a calming gesture.

“I’m not here to harm you.”

“Like hell you are!”

Deceit rolled his eyes impatiently and didn’t answer. What use was explaining now when that ankle was in such desperate need for a healing?

“Stay back!” The boy yelled as Deceit kept advancing in on him. “I’m warning you!”

“Foolish boy, I’m just here to help you-!”

“I am the warlock of these mountains!” The boy growled with a ferocity that made Deceit pause in his steps. “Dare to come any closer and I will hex your ass!”

Blinking a few times in surprise, Deceit fought against the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Now that was one he hadn’t heard before. If it hadn’t been for the underlying prepubescent quality of the boy’s voice, he would have actually sounded threatening enough to fool someone.

“I said stay back!!” The boy growled once more as Deceit stepped closer. “Didn’t you hear me?! I am the warlock of these mountains!!”

“Oooh?” Deceit said amusedly as he kneeled to the boy’s eye height. A snap of his fingers made a small flame flicker to life in his palm, illuminating his face in threatening shadows. “Are you now…?” He grinned, his fangs flashing in the flickering light.

In the light of the flame Deceit saw the colour drain from the boy’s cheeks as he realized his mistake.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit- I’m sorry-!” The boy babbled as he tried his best to crawl even further back, despite the stone behind him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-! I didn’t mean to insult you, I’m sorry-!”

“Look into my eyes.” Deceit said calmly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean it-!”

“I said look into my eyes.”

At the commanding hiss the boy’s eyes unwillingly snapped up and looked right into the bright glow of Deceit’s hypnotizing gaze. As he saw the boy’s eyes glaze over in molten gold obedience Deceit smirked.

“There we go! Was that so hard?” Deceit drawled. “Now, tell me the truth. What is your name?”

“V-Virgil…” The boy stammered. “Virgil Becker.”

“Virgil.” Deceit nodded. “Such a pleasure to meet you! What exactly are you doing in my mountains, Virgil?”

“I… I…” Virgil seemed to struggle to find the words. Trying to lie already? Goodness, what a shame.

“No use lying to me, boy. Why are you here?”

“I ran away!” The truth finally came out in a rush.

“Right,” Deceit nodded. “And your first idea was to come here? That seems a little foolish, don’t you agree? What, were you looking to prove yourself? Hoping to earn your peers’ praise by pretending you’re brave?”

“N-No…” Virgil shook his head. “I came here because… Because…”

“Because…?”

“Because he wouldn’t follow me if I went into the mountains.”

Deceit paused. Forgetting his ‘dreaded warlock’ act for a second, he finally fully took in the boy in front of him. His thin frame, the hollowed out face. He squinted. Now that he took a closer look, there seemed to be something… Hiddenbehind the boy’s long bangs.

Virgil flinched as Deceit reached out his hand, but all he did was gently brush away his bangs from his eyes. Deceit’s breath hitched. Virgil’s left eye was almost swollen shut, dark purple and yellow bruising pulling most of his eye white from sight. It didn’t look like he had gotten it falling down. It looked to be at least a few days old.

“Oh dear…” Deceit said softly. “This world has hurt you terribly, hasn’t it…?”

Perhaps it was Deceit’s words, or his drastically gentler tone, but the fear seemed to disappear from the boy’s shaking frame. Confusion seemed to take its place as Virgil openly gawked at Deceit. Suddenly uncomfortable under the boy’s stare Deceit grappled to find back his control.

“Sssleep.” Deceit hurriedly commanded. Immediately Virgil’s eyes started drooping, and though he valiantly tried to fight it off it was no use. Deceit breathed a sigh of relief as Virgil’s head eventually nodded forward and he fell into a deep slumber.

Hoping to get rid of the uncomfortable ache in his stomach, Deceit finally focused on the boy’s ankle. As he unwrapped the boy’s improvised bandages he fought back a wince. Up close it was even worse than he had initially thought. The skin had broken, and if he saw it correctly through all the clotted blood the bone was actually sticking out. Not only that, but also the too warm skin and the beginning of blackened veins surrounding the wound suggested that the boy was developing an infection. This was not something he could just heal then and there. The boy needed five separate healing sessions at the very least.

He shook his head. No. No, this was not his problem. He would heal the boy just enough that he wouldn’t die for the next 24 hours and leave him at the edge of the mountains. He would go back to his life thinking this encounter was just a fever dream, and they would go their happy separate ways.

Except… What if he didn’t survive it? What if he couldn’t stop the infection from spreading to his heart, and the boy would die a miserable death before he could even reach his hometown again? Besides, there were still other predators on the loose. Deceit highly doubted a mountain lion or one of the Fair Folk would be as kind as him.

Not only that, what if the boy did somehow survive and didn’t think it was a dream? What if he told everyone about this encounter? Yes, most people would probably declare him crazy, but there would always be people who would believe him. Who would know the warlock they feared had not only spared, but also healed someone who went into his mountains. The reputation he had so carefully cultivated would slowly fall apart, and before you know it some brainless knights would march into the mountains again to come for him. He couldn’t let that happen!

Or, some traitorous part of Deceit whispered as he looked at the unconscious boy, what if the one he fled away from will find him first…?

He didn’t realize he had dug his talons into the flesh of his own palms until his skin broke and small beads of red trickled from his clenched fists. Cursing the traitorous little voice and every deity he could think of, Deceit spat out a spell under his breath. The boy levitated from the ground, his head rolling backwards like a marionette without its strings as he floated in mid-air. Deceit rose, already dreading the journey home.

How on earth was he going to explain this to Eris?

The sound of another hurl pulled him out of his memories. Deceit shook his head and grabbed the pitcher, which was full by now. There was no use dwelling on his past mistakes. All he had to do was make sure he wouldn’t repeat them.

Walking back to his newest student with the pitcher in hand, Deceit carefully thought over his next step. Perhaps it was wiser to not jump to his next course of action too quick. It appeared he was compromised anyhow. He shuddered. At first he had thought he had finally found the person who could actually successfully lie to him... Wasn’t that a terrifying thought?

But thank the stars that hadn’t been the case. He just hadn’t seen his honesty. True honesty… Now that was something he hadn’t seen in a long while. No wonder he hadn’t recognized it at first.

Nevertheless, better to tread more carefully. He had always prided himself on his talent to see right through people, but it appeared that his years of isolation had damaged that talent. Deceit snorted. Hell, if he didn’t know any better he would think Remus was attracted to him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #dukeceit #demus #janus sanders #remus sanders #tw abuse #tw vomit

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