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wish-i-wasnt-a-coward · 3 years

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Family Cuddle Pile

a/n: I actually wrote this a while ago but it was perfect for the request. Theirs like, no content for this ship an I love it so much! Thank you for reading :) @arodynamic-enby

Pairings: romantic Anxceitmus and kid!Patton also super background Logince

Warnings: tattoos, less than ideal parent mentions, food mention, and light cursing

Word count: 1,844

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Remus flopped out of bed, throwing his body carelessly across the room. He hastily threw on his clothes. Short shorts, ripped fishnets, a vest that was more patches than original material, really big clunky shoes, and a ripped up band-t. He also hooked his favorite bone earrings in his tattered earlobes.

He stomped into his apartment’s kitchen. He grabbed a stale piece of bread he soaked it in coffee. Yawned and grabbed his bag, racing out the door.

His brother was waiting for him at the tattoo shop, sketching a new idea. Unlike him, Roman only had a few tattoos, including not one, not two, not three… but three Disney quotes, a frog on a mushroom, a rose on his arm, and a constellation. Most of his tattoos were covered by tasteful burgundy overalls and a white button-down shirt.

Remus’ tattoos were also mostly covered by his clothes. But he had a tattoo sleeve depicting the garden of Eden, a matching frog on a mushroom, a quote from one of Roman’s books, medically accurate bone structures on his hand, a realistic spider on his neck, and a snake wrapping around his non-sleeved arm. And those were just the visible ones.

Suffice to say, the twins were very different.

Remus threw his bag onto the floor in the backroom, “Ro, when’s the first appointment!!” he yelled. “Your’s? At 11. FYI, Jan n’ Pat are coming over at 12, for motivation” Remus smiled, fuckin’ superb.

He busied himself in collecting the ink and preparing the tattoo gun. The client wanted a fucking orange on their wrist, it should only take an hour or two but Remus was not excited to do a frickin’ orange circle.

The prissy orange bitch came in and Remus got to work. They didn’t move much and only cried a little bit when the needle started jabbing at their skin. Remus liked this part of the process, stabbing people consensually was his favorite thing ever… also the art part but stabbing people!

Almost exactly an hour later the door jingled open. “Dada!!” a tiny voice called back into the store. “I’ll be there in a minute patty-cake” Remus called from his spot hunched over the client's arm.

He added the final touches to the fruit and helped the orange bitch off the chair. Roman swept the client away, Remus practically ran to greet his partner and son.

Janus wore a leather corset over a black collared shirt and baggy pants, their long platinum hair framed their face under their signature hat. They were holding hands with a toddler wearing mostly pink and blue, his blond hair (that matched Janus’) was a mop of curls barely held together by a few butterfly clips.

“Dada, Dada!!! I got you a flower” the little boy cried, letting go of Janus’ hand and stumbling towards the tall man who scooped him up. Patton giggled and held out a sweaty flower clenched in his chubby fist.

Remus accepted the flower with a gasp, ”this is really for me?” he said joyfully. Adjusting the small boy in his arms Remus turned towards Janus who was looking at the pair with a disgustingly sappy expression.

“What are you lookin’ at hot stuff?” Remus teased. “Shut it you,” Janus said, pressing a kiss to Remus’ check. Patton made a noise, “icky” he said pushing Janus away. They laughed, “yes darling, we’re very icky”.

“When’s verge-“

“he’ll be home at 4”

“Dope”

“Stop by the Sleepy Café before you bring Pat to the apartment?”

“Can do scootal-lo!”

Remus turned back to the little boy in his arms, “looks like you're stuck with me squirt”. Patton beamed and snuggled into Remus’ chest. Janus smiled again, “I’ll see you, boys, at dinner,” they said, ruffling Pat's hair and peaking Remus on the lips quickly so as to not upset the toddler. “Bye-bye Janny!!” Patton called after Janus as they left for work.

“Righty-o,” Remus said, carrying Patton into the back room. “I know Ro’s got a couple coloring books, wanna do those for a bit?” Patton nodded and reached towards the ground to be put down. Remus plopped Patton on the couch and pulled out the book and pens as well as a sketchbook off his own. They sat together coloring and drawing until Roman came back to hug Patton.

“Ah, my favorite nephew!” Roman said, scooping up the little boy. Patton laughed and pulled Roman’s hair. “Roro, can I color your arm pictures??” he asked, pointing to Roman’s rose tattoo. Roman plopped the toddler back down on the couch and handed him a pen.

Patton went to work on the rose, scribbling reds and pinks and greens across his arm. Roman gave him complements each time Patton paused, and each time Patton shushed him and went back to work. Remus finished up his sketch, adding it to the pile of tattoo ideas they were eventually going to put up-front, and sat next to the toddler.

“That’s really good pat-”

“Shhhhhhhh��

Remus nodded and mimed zipping his lips. He liked spending time with the kid. They weren’t biologically related but who gives a fuck about blood, unless it’s outside of your body, then it’s fun.

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“I don’ wanna” Patton wined his dad sighed “I know bubbles but we gotta go home to Papa and Janny, isn’t that fun” Patton considered this, “but Roro’s pretty arm picture” he argued. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Pffffff- Ummm, how about this, we go home now and I’ll take you back to the shop tomorrow after pre-school”

Patton brightened considerably, “ok” he chirped. “up please” the toddler’s chubby hands reached towards Remus who obediently scooped him up with a coo. After all who was he to say no to uppy hands.

“See ya tomorrow, have fun on your date with the nerd” Remus sang as he snatched his bag juggling the still fussy Patton in his other arm. “Fu- Frick off Re. Say hi to your partners for me,” Romans said affectionately and waved as his twin left the building.

Remus happily trotted out into the road. The tattoo shop was located on a quaint little street in the more commercial segment of their town only a short walk from Janus’ job.

A light drizzle floated around them and the air was warm and comforting. Patton squealed as a large drop of water hit him in the head, prompting a laugh from Remus.

A jingle sounded through the peaceful cafe, the brown room was illuminated by those cool old fashion lights and a lovely array of pastries made the air smell of chocolate and blueberry scones. But the scones, as delicious as they were, weren’t the snack Remus was here for

“Hey babe- Remus why are you soaking wet”

“Puddle” Patton screeched.

“Kid’s right, Puddle.”

Janus pinched their eyebrows, “ya know what, I’m not even surprised anymore. Just make sure Patton doesn’t catch a cold” they scolded.

Remus nodded and saluted in mock seriousness, “yes captain” he said and pressed a kiss to Janus’ face over the cash register, “I’ll see ya in a bit” Remus grinned and led Patton back out of the cafe.

Janus sighed lovingly as they watched their boyfriend and son turn to cross the street, Patton’s hand clasped around Remus’ happily. “Stop looking so happy, you're scaring the customers” Remy teased from across the counter. “Ha, Ha,” Janus glared and went back to work”

Janus’ apartment was a cute two-bedroom space on the fourth floor of the building. The furniture was an interesting combo of vintage and things from the side of the road. The vintage parts came from their parent’s house, their father had died two years after Janus’ had run away and hadn’t thought to write them out of the will.

The three of them had made a date out of customizing the few pieces that Janus wanted to keep. The customization mainly included darkening everything and adding more gothic touches. Virgil had done the fabrics, Remus the painting, and Janus moral support/ director.

The three partners had also painted the kitchen/dining room/living room black with one yellow wall. Janus and Virgil’s room was dark purple instead of black with highlights in the same yellow. Patton’s room was the only one that didn’t look marginally like a cave.

The walls were a cream-yellow that lit up in the morning sunlight. After Janus announced that they were going to have a baby Remus had spent three hours painting the grey ceiling with white fluffy clouds. It was one of his favorite projects.

Patton of course had no regard for the work put into the entirety of his home and was the usual menace of a toddler. And today a toddler with cheerios, truly a sight even god would tremble before.

Remus plopped down next to Patton who was pushing cheerios around his highchair tray with an intense focus. He smiled at the little boy and flicked on the tv, “got any requests pip-squeak?” Remus asked. Patton looked thoughtful, “dead lady!!” he cried excitedly hitting the tray with his fists, cheerios flew everywhere. Remus nodded, understanding, “Corpse bride coming up!” he picked a few cheerios from the couch “you really are Verge’s kid”

When Janus got home Patton was curled up on Remus’s chest. Both slept soundly despite the dead folk on the screen in front of them singing about the wedding.

Janus smiled, their family was fucking adorable. They slipped off their shoes and snuggled up into Remus who hummed happily and pulled Janus into the hug still asleep.

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Three hours later Virgil trudged up the four flights of stairs huffing indignantly with each step. Of course, he could take the elevator… but it might break down and he would be stuck for hours. Or someone could get into the elevator with him and he would have to interact with a stranger. So stairs it was.

He rummaged around his baggy hoodie, running his fingers through his dark purple hair in annoyance when he couldn’t find the key. Once he found it Virgil carefully (as he did everything) opened the apartment door. His combat books clunked satisfyingly against the hardwood floors as he entered his house. Virgil felt the tension leave his muscles, he was home. He glanced across the room, looking for his family.

Virgil’s face lit up like a god damned Christmas tree.

Across the room, both his partners and his son were curled up sleeping happily. Drool covered Remus’ face and Janus was snoring, they were the most precious thing Virgil had seen all freakin day.

The three of them woke as Virgil wrapped his arms around them, Patton squealed in excitement. “Hello, darling” Janus mumbled sleepily into Virgil’s arm. Remus just groaned and nestled into the hug. The toddler wriggled between his dads squealing profusely. “Shhh, s’ sleepy time” Remus mumbled, rolling deeper into the cuddle pile and shutting Patton up.

Virgil smiled and pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “Mmm, love you” they purred. “Love you too Jan,” Virgil said, nestling his face in their neck. Virgil knew he would have to start dinner soon but that could wait, for now, cuddles.

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princeanxious · 3 years

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Soulmate au fic that I really wanna write where Janus is soulmates with everyone(aka DLAMPR) but soulmates stay the same every lifetime but theres a chance to have multiple soulmates and in rare cases you don’t meet them all in that life before you or your soulmates dies.(especially in janus’s case, for reasons i’ll get into shortly) With each life once you hit a certain age(say somewhere between 19-20) and/or meet your soulmate, you gain the memory of every life you’ve had in the past, specifically the life you lived with your soulmate.(also soulmates arent inherently romantic in this world, and i’ll mention that roman and remus are always inherently platonic soulmates to eachother, and are often born as twins to eachother, and if not, are often always the first meet in their group)

Janus is a very special case, and in their world considered almost an anomaly.

All the information gained in the world is supplied from his soulmates, who at the end of each of their current lives always end up together as a group, though it on average happens pretty early on in their lives, minus janus.

Janus is an anomaly because it seems that he’s dying every lifetime time that he meets one of his soulmates, lost to the world 24 hours after hes come into direct physical contact with the first of his soulmates in that lifetime.

(Check the tags for trigger warnings before reading!)

In the first lifetime, he meets Patton(who, in this life, is not called Patton), a young baker who takes his hand with excitement, the barest brush of skin alone triggering not a memory of a past life, but instead a brilliant feeling of connection, a soul-deep aknowledgement that their souls are brand new, and infact are connected to a whole group of souls. Patton is overtaken by a whole new kind of excitement. Janus matches it, and they plan an outting for the very next morning. Janus does not make it to the outting, succumbing to a stab wound just hours after meeting Patton while on his walk home. Patton meets the rest of their soulmates while waiting for Janus to arrive. They hear about his death a week later.

The in second lifetime, he briefly meets Virgil, theyre 16 and 17 respectively. He doesnt learn much, the brief brush of skin while waiting in a croud for a train, enough to distract him into turning around just enough to meet eyes with Virgil, who had been on a train back to meet the rest of their soulmates, an exclamation of relieved surprise on the tip of Janus’s tongue. And then Jan trips, or someone impatiently shoves at him and he loses his footing, niether of them really know for sure. One moment they feel the euphoria of their souls connecting, the next Virgil feels the bond instantly shatter alongside his heart as he watches Janus disappear under the oncoming train. Virgil spends that lifetime traumatized by his sudden death, guilt ridden in knowing their soulmate’s last lifetime’s death had ended in a similar fashion even in mer secs, and his soul takes on a much more cautious nature from then on.

In the third lifetime, he meets Remus, theyre 18. Remus manages to spend a whole hour with Janus before they touch, and it’s only because Janus talks him out of jumping off a bridge. Remus wasn’t being suicidal, just hyper moridly curious, but Janus didn’t know that. Janus strikes up a conversation with him, its snarky and fun and perfect, and Janus joins him on the railing as they talk. Janus derails Remus from jumping by mentioning that he’s never had sushi, and to Remus this is an afront to living. Remus hops back over to the safe side of the railing, declaring to fix that crisis immediately. Janus laughs and agrees, relaxing visibly. The relaxing is a mistake, as for a single second Janus forgets that hes still in a dangerous position. He slips, his hand missing the railing, Remus only just barely managing to catch his hand in time but he doesnt get a good enough grasp, the spark that triggers their soul connection distracting enough that Janus’s hands slip from Remus’s, and Remus is forced to watch in horror as Janus plummets to his doom. He scrambles to fish Janus out of the river, but they cant revive him, Janus died on impact. Remus doesn’t meet the rest of their soulmates for another three years. He never touches sushi again for the rest of that lifetime

In the forth, Roman is 17, Janus is 18, and Janus actually meets Roman multiple times, knowing full well what his life has in store, neither ever knowing. Roman and Janus are actors for the two main characters for an up and coming movie, and they get along super well. Janus has always worn gloves, scarves, long sleeves and jeans, hoodies, beanies. Its a bit taboo at such a young age, but Janus never seems to mind the controversy and never commets on it, and Roman doesn’t mind either. Janus is infact very withdrawn, and often gives very little input on what his true personality is and so Roman doesn’t push it. Later, he really, really wishes he did. Inevitably, they become closer. But it’s only until after the movie is released that Janus lets his walls down just a little. Somehow, he seems to know that Roman is his soulmate long before theyve actually touched. Somehow, for some reason that they just cant seem to fathom, at the end of a large event for the movie, Janus and Roman are being ushered away from eachother and into seperate cars to avoid an influx of fans for some reason or another, Roman doesn’t remember what. All he remembers is Janus taking a glove off his hand and brushing Roman’s cheek after he wished Roman an odd farewell. Not a see you later, just “Farewell, my Prince.” In perfect sync with a very specific line that Janus’s character had said. Roman is in too much shock by the time he’s in his own car, the past three lifetimes of memory flashing through his head taking just long enough to settle into dread as he realizes. He panics, he tries to get someone to listen, and by god do they try, but no one can get into contact with Janus in time. Janus dies in a freak car crash just minutes after they touched, dead on impact. Roman and his soulmates hold onto this movie for the rest of this lifetime, the last physical record left behind by the soulmate that fate just wont let them meet.

In the fifth, he meets Logan, each at age 21, Logan is a nurse in training, and Janus is a cashier, a college student just starting to work towards getting their law degree. By this point Logan has met all of their soulmates, and they all live in a flat together. Really, these days they all sit in wait, they have a plan amongst themselves, about what to do when they meet Janus, a last resort, a trying attempt to keep him alive just long enough to break that 24 hour threshold, to break the spell, to be able to say they did something to try and save him. So its truely a shame that in this lifetime, Janus is bleeding out from a gunshot wound by the time Logan is able to reach him. Its late at night, the police have been called, but it seems Janus was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and finds himself bleeding out on the tile floor. He doesn’t struggle, he doesn’t panic. When Logan approaches, he instead smiles sadly, and reaches his hand out to Logan. On instinct Logan takes it, just before he processes hearing Janus greet him with “Hello, Soulmate.” In vain, Logan tries to staunch the bleeding, but he’s done all he can do, and they know the real paramedics will be 2 minnutes too late. So they sit there, covered in Janus’s blood at 2 am in the middle of a shoddy convenience store, talking quietly about life and how their soulmates love them. There are tears in Logan’s eyes as Janus smiles sadly, knowingly up at Logan. He reaches his hand up and cradles Logans face, and asks Logan to “never forget to smile, okay?” Logan ends up leaving nursing, his mental health unable to take the soul-deep wound that incapacitates him when surrounded by the call of death.

In their sixth life, his soulmates wait, the group meets at age 23, and feel renewed hope as each month passes that they do not experience another traumatic death in their midst. Around age 30, confusion sets in, the hollow itch of meeting their last soulmate is dulled, almost non existant. They’d believe it gone if they didn’t feel it whisper to them late at night where theyre all gathered together. By the time their 60, the whisper seems to fade, and they slowly mourn the loss of the loved one they never got to have. Janus’s soul infact does not make it to the sixth lifetime, but not for lack of trying. His soulmates don’t want to believe it, waiting for his arrival to the very last of their days in this lifetime and never meeting him, they refuse to voice that they mightve lost Janus for good..

Fate has instead taken hold of his feeble soul, the weakest soul in an already unusually huge soulmate group, his soul only half as strong as it should be to balance fate in each lifetime, and so weak that his soul collapses under the amount of soulpower that reaches out to his own when his soul meets the others, and the fates are agitated by the constant unbalance of what should be their greatest and most intricately created group of soulmates yet. So the fates decided to hold onto his soul for a single lifetime, and spends the years mending and healing and strengthening his soul, practically filling in a full half of his soul, and spending years merging it while still carefully balancing his connection with his soulmates perfectly. The trade off is that the tampering and adjusting of his soul fucks with his soulmate memory trigger. He doesn’t forget, no, but his access to his previous lifetime memories is staggered, and so it takes months before he gets back all of his pevious lifetime memories, leaving the inital soulmate connection actually connecting but not immediately supplying his soul with any information of his own first 5 lives, leaving him blank at the start, though knowing that he and his soulmates soul’s are still older than being a brand new soul without memories, and doesn’t actually have a point in his lifetimes when he his an age and his past lifetime memories come to him, he /has/ to meet his soulmates to trigger those memories. The fates are very particular about him, keen on not providing this group with anymore unnessesary trauma.

So, imagine Janus’s genuine confusion, in his sixth life and his soulmate’s seventh life, at age 23 when he approaches a group at a college party on a whim to chat/flatter/flirt with the infamous Remus Sanders, the local social cryptid who always raises more questions than answers when you talk to him and who, Janus has learned, is a highly entertained arsonist-wannabe, and Janus knows that it’s smart to have contacts, because who knows when he’ll be need of someone who’ll commit arson with him? It just happened to be an hour earlier that Remy had spilled soda on his gloves, so he’s braving this interaction without a safety barrier but he’s heard Remus has all his soulmates already, all four of them to be exact, so he doesnt think he has much of a reason to worry. He manages to slide into the conversation easily, and none of Remus’s soulmates seem bothered by his intrusion, especially when he takes the eccentric way that Remus speaks in stride without even a pause, they just seem exasperated when he sneakily brings up the topic of fire.

Then Remus takes him by the shoulders, grinning at him almost crazily, and states “You. I like you” and, it’s obviously instinctive, the graceful way he laughs and puts a hand on Remus’s to agree, but of course the moment skin touches skin, their souls link and everything sparks. And then Remus shutters, and stares, his jaw going slack but his hands seem to grip Janus tighter. And for a moment, Janus finds it terribly, terribly fitting that he’s soulmates with a filterless pyromaniac, but then he remembers that Remus also has soulmates, and then the panic sets in because, assumably, that makes them his soulmates too.

Imagine Janus’s confusion when instead of being met with joy, he suddenly finds himself tucked carefully yet securely into Remus’s arms, being rocked by a man whose suddenly panicked and almost manically whispering “it’s him, hes here, it’s him.” Any move he makes to pull away even a little is met with a sob, Remus is crying, and Janus is so very confused. He tries to coo and comfort Remus, but each of their other soulmates crowd around them, touching his skin one by one, none of them moving away, his skin is burning from touch starvation, its a lot, its to much, its not enough, it burns.

It takes Janus over an hour, after being shuffled into a corner and placed in another soulmate’s lap, Janus thinks his name is Patton, to come back to himself, and finds his soulmates can’t stop touching him. He, too, feels the zing with each touch, the specific innate and undeniable feeling of ‘soulmate, soulmate, soulmate’ but he feels that hes very specifically out of some kind of loop considering all of his soulmates are crying.

When the fates whisper to them, three hours in, with the words “his soul was weak, we have fixed the issue, he is now yours for life to keep, he will safely continue.”

And while Janus requires quite a bit of catch-up, he feels like nows not the best time to ask. He feels more than sees the collective relief that sweeps through his soulmates, he lets them crowd around him further, touching and holding and assuring themselves and eachother that hes real, hes there, he’s staying alive, hes going to be safe. He tries not to say too much, doesn’t want to step on any sore spots, and finds theres tears in his eyes as well. He just lets himself be passed from lap to lap, and somehow or another they manage to all safely arrive at their joined home, pilling up a pillowfort into the livingroom and putting on a movie. Not once does he leave the hold of at least one soulmate, and finds at least two other hands on his person at a time up until he’s sat in the middle of the pillowfort(after he was allowed to get ready alongside the others for bed. He ends up in an oversized nasa hoodie that belongs to Logan) and the others begin to just, talk about life. Its too early to talk about the extreme protectiveness that theyve all treated him with each second, like hes about to dissapear at any moment. The thought makes him shudder, and he tries not to dwell on it.

Turns out, Virgil has the best idea of the night, suddenly and carefully kissing him, which triggers a bit of a domino effect, where Janus goes gently from soulmate to soulmate and trades kisses and hugs until everyone is breathless and giggling wetly with emotion.

And, when he wakes up the next morning, refusing to leave the warmth that is Roman’s chest and whining when Logan, who’d been acting as his other warm big spoon, start pulling away to start the day. And for the first time in this lifetime, Logan startlingly quickly relents and actually returns to their makeshift bed, pressing closer to Janus in an instant to hear his happy, sleepy hum. None of them get up for hours, and when they finally do, they order takeout, and dont stray far from eachother in the coming days.

Its the start of something new, something beautiful.

Something completely and finally whole.

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abused-sides · 3 years

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Hungry [dead dove: do not eat]

Trigger warning: someone dies from a food allergy and it’s VERY graphic, it’s an unsympathetic character. This is also written from someone who has a ton of severe food allergies, including the one that’s used, so it’s not some random asshole making light of a situation. Abusive relationships, death, murder, unsympathetic character is murdered

note: please read the trigger warnings and do not fucking read if it’ll bother/trigger you, this is the last warning

xxx

Every morning, Janus ran out to buy him and Remus coffees while Remus stayed behind and burnt their breakfast.

Logan woke up to the smoke detector screaming and the rest of their roommates groaning while Roman frantically waved a blanket and snapped at his brother (Janus still smiled when he came home). It was as good of an alarm clock as any.

Every morning, Logan scraped together breakfast for a boyfriend he didn’t love.

Remus and Janus’ voices carried over from the living room as they ate on the couch. Logan used the burnt remnants of their stove to make bacon and eggs, something he could cook in his sleep. He wasn’t sleeping, though—He was focused on Remus and Janus.

“So,” Remus stole a piece of bacon and talked with his mouth full, “when’s the oaf getting up?”

Janus sipped at his coffee. “Obligatory defensive comment incoming,” he murmured, and Remus wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Don’t make fun of him,” Logan announced.

As much as Patton begged everyone to get along, Remus was never one to hide how he felt. Neither was Jaxon.

“You know he doesn’t do it on purpose, and you know he’ll be down here any second,” he whispered, and bumped Remus with his hip, who laughed. “Get out of here!”

Remus finished the bacon and said, “I gotta get to work anyway.”

That didn’t stop him from making out with Janus a good few minutes before leaving.

Jaxon stumbled into the kitchen sleepily.

“Morning, J,” Logan said quietly.

He hated Jaxon’s first appearance—he was too tired for Logan to tell what type of mood he was in. He used to stay quiet until he knew for sure, but Jaxon snapped at him once and said, “When you don’t say good morning, it feels like you’re mad at me or you don’t care about me.”

Logan always said good morning now.

Jaxon ignored him, took his plate, and went back upstairs. Logan relaxed.

“Just let me know when you want me to kill him for you,” Janus sneered, then ducked into his and Remus’ room.

Roman left for work next, singing on his way out, followed by Patton, who kissed Logan’s cheek and told him to stay safe. Virgil worked nights and didn’t wake until well after 3pm. Janus used noise-cancelling headphones while he worked. As much as Logan tried, he couldn’t get a shift today. He was essentially alone with Jaxon.

His stomach churned.

He went to his computer.

It didn’t take long for Jaxon to come back downstairs. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s shoulders and nuzzled into his neck.

“What’s going on?” Jaxon asked. “You’re tense.”

Logan’s shoulders relaxed. “I just have a lot of work to do.”

“So? Take a break. Come hang out with me.”

“Jaxon…” Logan frowned at the screen. “I have a deadline.”

Jaxon yanked his arms back. “Are you mad at me or something?”

Logan looked over his shoulder. “What? No. Why would I be mad?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, brown eyes hard. “Because you haven’t hung out with me all week. I never see you anymore.”

“I work right here in the living room because you wanted to see me more,” Logan insisted. “And we watched three movies last night. We can watch three more tonight.”

“Well I don’t wanna force you.”

Janus’ door creaked open. “That’s exactly what you want to do. Can you two quiet down?”

“Come with me,” Jaxon growled under his breath and grabbed Logan’s wrist.

Logan stumbled after him.

“HEY!” Janus stormed forward and grabbed Logan’s other wrist. “He has a deadline. He needs to work. Have you no manners?”

“Sorry, princess, I wasn’t raised in a castle.” Jaxon yanked Logan hard enough for his shoulder to ache.

“You’re hurting me,” he said desperately.

“Let go of him.” Janus’ eyes were deadly slits. His teeth were fangs, his grip of a Boa.

Logan pulled—he’d get punished for that later—until Jaxon let go and he stumbled back into Janus’ arms. Janus quickly righted him then took his hands away. Logan shivered.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Jaxon mumbled, “when the snake isn’t around.”

He turned and stomped up the stairs. The door slammed, and Logan flinched.

“I’m sorry,” he spouted as he turned to Janus. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“And what he said—”

“I am a snake. It’s great. Is your wrist okay?”

Logan held it up. The skin was clear, but a bruise would surely show. “It’s fine. He almost…” He forced a laugh, “almost dislocated my shoulder, though.”

“Let me take a look at it. Sit down.”

Logan sat and Janus tugged his loose neckline down enough to expose his shoulder. Janus hummed.

“Is it hurting?”

“Just a little. I’m okay.”

“Let me get some ice.”

Janus came back a moment later and settled the icepack on Logan’s shoulder.

“Why haven’t you kicked us out?” Logan asked quietly.

“Because if he left, you’d go with him. And we like you a lot.” Janus ran his fingers through Logan’s hair, who leaned into the touch. “Besides, we have better plans for him. We’re killing him, remember?”

Logan laughed, and prayed to God Jaxon didn’t hear.

xxx

Logan didn’t see Jaxon again until dinner. Roman and Remus were play-fighting in the kitchen, yelling over the boiling of a stew. Patton and Virgil were watching a horror movie on the couch, Janus sat at their feet. Virgil kept kicking him.

Jaxon came down the stairs as Logan asked to help with dinner. Remus quickly took Logan under his arm.

“Yeah! Stir this for me. Hey, Jaxon. I’ve got Logan helping me here.”

“I missed you at lunch today,” Logan said over his shoulder. “Are you okay? Feeling sick?”

“A little,” he mumbled. “Will you eat with me?”

Logan melted. “Of course. Remus, is this safe for him?”

Remus grabbed Logan’s shoulder. Logan furrowed his eyebrows as they locked eyes.

“Yes.” Remus tapped something on the counter. “Janus and Roman helped me.”

Logan glanced down.

Peanut powder.

He swallowed.

“It’s perfectly safe for Jaxon.”

Blood rushed through Logan’s ears.

“No, actually.” Logan sucked in a shuddering breath. “No, I want to make him something myself.”

Remus’ shoulders slumped. “I understand. I guess.”

“But…” Logan grabbed his hand. “You can make it again if I ask?”

Roman set a hand on Logan’s lightly purpled shoulder. “We absolutely can.”

Logan got to work making Jaxon grilled cheese sandwiches, and they ate in the living room with everyone else. Jaxon kept wrinkling his nose and pursing his lips like he was rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Everything okay, Jax?” Patton asked sweetly.

“There’s no peanuts in that, right? Something about the smell is setting me off.”

“Nope.” Janus laid his head in Remus’ lap. “We know about your allergy, Jaxon. We’re careful.”

xxx

That night, Logan stayed up late with Jaxon watching movies. Logan fell asleep cuddled against Jaxon’s chest and woke up the next morning snuggled with him in bed.

He hauled himself out of bed, heavy with exhaustion, as the smoke alarm screamed. Janus kissed Remus on the cheek before leaving for their coffees. Remus cracked another egg in the pan. Roman sang Disney at the top of his lungs as he got ready in the bathroom, Virgil pounding on the door demanding that he needed to piss. Patton snapped that there’s another bathroom upstairs and that if those two didn’t stop fighting he’d lose his mind.

Logan found a path in the kitchen to grab the stuff for French toast. He pushed aside Remus’ used dishes and ingredients to set his own down.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asked as Logan whisked. “You know, about the decision you made.”

“Good,” he admitted. “I think it was the right call.”

Remus set the spatula down hard. “So how else do you wanna proceed?”

Logan’s whisks slowed. “I… I don’t know. Last time I talked about maybe taking a break, he—”

“Hey, Jaxon!” Patton greeted cheerfully.

Logan snapped his mouth shut.

“Morning, handsome.” Jaxon kissed the back of Logan’s neck.

He smiled as Jaxon poured them both juice. “It was the right decision.”

xxx

“Logan!” Jaxon bounded down the stairs. “When are you stopping for lunch?”

“Um…” Logan shifted in his seat. “I had lunch.”

Jaxon stopped. “What?”

“It was quick.” Logan pushed back in the chair to face Jaxon. “Just a snack, really. Then I got right back to work.”

“Why would you eat without me? I knew it, you are mad at me. We always have lunch together.”

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“If you know, why did you eat without me? What did I even do?”

“You didn’t do anything!”

“But you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you!”

“THEN WHY WOULD YOU EAT WITHOUT ME?”

Logan flinched.

Jaxon grabbed his wrist and hauled him to his feet. “Don’t be a baby! Just tell me!”

He slammed Logan into the wall just as Janus’ door opened. Logan’s head bounced off the paint, his eye erupting in pain.

“Get off,” Janus snapped.

“This is none of your business! Go back to work!”

Janus pulled his phone out of his pocket. He dialed three numbers.

“Put the phone down!”

“I need someone here right away, my roommate—”

Jaxon leapt ten steps back. Logan crumpled in on himself, pressed against the wall where Jaxon left him.

“I think he’s calming down now,” Janus said into the phone. He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I would like you to remain on the line.”

Jaxon grabbed his wallet and keys, and stormed out. The door slammed and Logan flinched.

“He’s gone now. Thank you for your help. Let me ask.” He pressed the phone to his shirt. “Do you want to press charges? Do you want the police to come?”

Logan shook his head, eyes watering. “I want to make dinner.”

xxx

“That again?” Jaxon asked, peering over Logan’s shoulder.

Logan stirred the thick broth. “You didn’t get to try it. It’s good.”

Jaxon shrugged. “Is your eye okay?”

“It’ll heal.”

He left. Logan grabbed the peanut powder and dumped in a generous amount, then left it to boil and cook down.

Everyone stared at Jaxon as they ate. Logan finished his bowl and grabbed seconds. Pale blotches appeared on Jaxon’s face. His lips swelled.

“Are you sure this doesn’t have peanuts?” He asked nervously. “I don’t feel great.”

“My eye hurts,” Logan announced.

“I have some medicine for it.” Remus kissed Logan’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

Jaxon glared. “Kiss your own boyfriend!”

By the time Remus came back, Jaxon’s throat was swelling shut. “Drive me to a hospital,” he demanded in a hoarse voice.

Patton knelt between Logan’s legs and applied the cream Remus bought to Logan’s browbone and the top of his cheekbone.

“Dinner was good,” Virgil said. “Are you gonna finish yours, Jax?”

He glared and stumbled for the door. “What the hell is this?”

Virgil shrugged and grabbed Jaxon’s bowl, downing the rest. Roman leaned against the door with his arms crossed. Jaxon threw a punch, but Roman easily ducked against Jaxon’s weak, wobbling frame.

“Oh, God, are you okay?” Patton gasped. “Call an ambulance!”

Jaxon collapsed to his knees as his body convulsed. His hands dug into the carpet. He vomited, elbows and knees locking.

“Shit, did we add peanut?” Roman asked. “Old habits.”

“What’s the number again?” Remus stared at his phone in confusion.

“What’s… wrong… with you… all…” Jaxon gasped through his throw up.

“911, I think,” Logan mumbled. “Are you okay, love?”

“I need someone here right away. My roommate is having an allergic reaction. He was eating alone, we didn’t catch it very fast— yes. Okay, I understand. Mhm.” He gave them the address then hung up.

Janus, Remus, and Roman turned on the T.V. Logan and Patton got to work cleaning up after dinner. Virgil stared Jaxon down.

He was dead before the paramedics arrived.

xxx

The smoke alarm blared. Logan hauled himself out of the warm bed and came out of Janus and Remus’ room.

“Slept long enough,” Janus said, wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist.

Logan leaned his head on Janus’ shoulder. “Coffee?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Breakfast is almost ready!” Remus called. “Hurry up!”

“I HAVE TO PISS, ROMAN!”

“THERE ARE TWO BATHROOMS!”

Logan got into the car with Janus. Janus pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the nearest coffee shop.

“How are you feeling?” Janus asked, reaching over and taking his hand.

“Hungry.”

#logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #intruloceit #loceit #dukeceit #intrulogical #minor character death #logan centric #max writes #hurt/comfort #angst

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

ILLICITUS: CHAPTER 5

Prompt: Y/N is a respectful narcotics agent, she worked hard to have her work recognized in a prominently male work field. She‘s assigned to the most important case of her whole career, investigate and apprehend the biggest drug dealer of U.S.A, the only thing she didn’t count on, was for the bastard to be so damn charming.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, dirty talk, blackmail, cursing, conspiracy.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @lilred91 , @auawdo @bayley-no-friends @lustyromantic

Notes: Finally is smut time 😏...To catch up with the previous chapters just hit my Masterlist! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I keep staring at Roman, looking for any signs that he might be joking, but to my surprise, he wasn’t.

“You’re dead serious about this, aren’t you?” I whispered

“Of course I am! I’m not a man who play games Y/N, I know what I want so I go for it. And I want you ever since you stepped a foot inside of this house”

“I-I...I can be fired for this! If someone finds out...”

“They won’t, as long as you keep your pretty mouth shut, baby”

“If I do it, are you really going to forget the tracker incident?” I sincerely ask

“Yes. You can even take it with you, if you want” He smiles and I quickly put the tracker inside my leather jacket side pocket.

“So, the tracker never happened?” I sighed in relief

“What tracker?” He smirked before kissing me roughly

Roman pulls me up by my ass so I can wrap my legs around his waist. He holds me up with one arm as the other tossed all the contents upon his big oak desk to the floor, including a MacBook.

Roman sat me on the desk, sliding off my jacket from my shoulders and throwing it across the room.

I pulled Roman closer to me by his gold chain, deepening the kiss, devouring his soft full lips until he stepped back to catch his breath.

“Fuck baby, you’re surreal” Roman says while taking my t-shirt off, unclasping my bra and getting rid of my jeans and panties

“Take it off” I murmured tugging on his t-shirt and jeans

Roman obliged, standing in front of me with nothing but his boxer briefs on and I take the opportunity to sink my hand inside of it and pump his incredible length.

“Oh, you’re mean. You’re so fucking mean” He’s intention was to laugh, but he ended up moaning instead.

I nodded with a giggle “And I’m going to enjoy this” I squeeze his dick slightly

“Yeah? You’re gonna claim this dick?” He asked, sucking on my bottom lip.

I smile at him, finally pulling him out of his boxers, aiming so that my spit could fall upon his shaft. I successfully hit my target and slowly spread the wetness all over his length.

Roman locks his gaze with mine, licking the pad of his thumb and pressing it on my clit, circulating around the nub with such ease.

“I like this dirty side of you” He chuckled amused “So much better than your Mrs. Righteous one” Roman said and increased the pressure upon my bundle of nerves, making me moan loudly

“Oh, that’s the best sound I’ve ever heard! Do it again, baby” He coos and I obliged

“Fuck me, please. I need you to fuck me right now” I panted

Roman smirked “So eager to take this cock, aren’t you baby girl?”

“Yes, please”

His eyes were firmly glued to mine as he entered my core, sweetly stretching my walls.

“Oh you’re big, you’re so big” I moan, closing my wrist around his gold chain tugging it down

“You like a big cock, don’t you? I can see you do baby ‘cuz you take me so well. This tight little pussy can take so much, fuck”

He thrust into me slowly so I can get used to his size.

“Faster” I panted

Big, strong hands roamed up on my body. One lightly squeezing my neck while the other had a tight grip on my hair, pulling on it by the scalp as an incessant sound of hard and persistent pounding filled up the room.

“Oh, you fuck me so good” I whispered

“How could I not? This is such good pussy” Roman grinned

The pacing became more calculated, slower even, but with sharper harder and deeper thrusts that made him reach my cervix.

My arms circled around his neck, closing it on a tight grip. I needed him closer, I needed every part of my skin glued to his own. I needed that connection, that feeling of having someone there for you, someone you could get attached to, even if it was for a couple of minutes in a fantasy world. It’s been so long since I’ve felt that human touch that I almost forgot what it felt like.

Roman throws his arms around my waist, taking me off the table and laid me down on the floor, upon the rug.

His broad body hovering mine creating a shelter around me, his warm tanned skin made me feel secure, comfortable even. Safe. And I couldn’t help it to think about everything that happened to me in the past.

“Don’t go there” He whispered on my ear, pulling me back from my trance.

Was when I noticed his pacing became almost unnoticeable..lazy..slow..

“What?” I murmured

“I said don’t go there, is not good for you and you know that” He delicately brushed a strand of hair away from my face

“What the fuck are talking about? You don’t even know me” I panted

“You’re overthinking Y/N, don’t do that baby. Stay here with me, focus on what’s happening right now, focus on us and leave all that shit behind”

Roman kissed me so softly that I swore I almost gave in.

Almost.....

“Is that all you got Casanova? Whispering sweet nothings to me? Sorry, but that won’t work because” I pulled him down by his chain and whispered in his ear “I like it rough” Slightly nibbling it.

He smirked deviously while sliding out of me “Turn around, baby and spread your legs”

I obliged, curious as to what he would do, but it didn’t took me long to find out.

Quickly entering my core again, he positioned his body between my legs, hands securing my hips to the floor as he took his cock all the way out, just leaving the tip in and then

“Oh fuck” I gasped when he sharply entered, beginning a merciless thrusting rhythm.

“Yes, yes, yes” I mumbled

“God, you love it like this, don’t you baby?” Roman grunts pulling my hair back until I arched my back in a way I was sure it would break me.

“Yes, sir” I grinned widely

“Fuck” He chuckled amused

“I want more, please give me more” I begged

“You like it that much, huh?” Roman turned up his pace violently

“YES! Just like that, keep doing that, please don’t stop” I whined

His lips covered mine, the best way he could, for a rough kiss

“You know, deep down I wished you were a cock whore, but baby, you’re beyond that! You’re addicted to it, aren’t you? Addicted to a cock buried balls deep in your tight little pussy, stretching it, claiming it” He moaned

I nodded “Only if it’s a good cock like yours, Mr. Reigns” I purred and slid back as much as I could to meet his thrusts

“Yes baby, just like that. Take that cock” He snarled

“I’m gonna come, fuuuck it feels so good” I shivered

“Come baby, come all over my cock”

I obliged coating his member with my juices as I felt him quickly pulling out and hot ropes of white cum landed on my butt cheeks.

“Fuck” We both sighed

“Nice game, man” He laughed and slapped my ass playfully

“Shut up” Rolling my eyes I felt my cheeks already turning red from embarrassment

“You know Y/N, I was thinking-“

A brief knock on the door made him stop

“What?” He shortly asked

“Mr. Reigns sorry to bother you, but we have a situation-“

“I’m busy! Deal with it” Roman quickly said, not even letting the man finish

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, sir”

Furiously getting up from the floor, he puts his boxers back on and go to the door, opening it just slightly, to make sure the man wouldn’t see me there, laid down on my naked glory.

After a few minutes of mumbling, Roman returned and began to get dressed

“We got a problem, baby” He quickly said, pulling his t-shirt back on

“What is it?”

“Your boss is here” Roman was now zipping up his jeans “And he brought a team with him”

“A team?” I asked confused

“Search team” He tossed my t-shirt and jeans to me. Smiling when he found my lace panties, shoving it on his jeans pocket.

“To search for what?” I ask

“You. He’s looking for you Y/N. Apparently you’ve gone missing since Monday”

“What?” I whispered

TO BE CONTINUED

Please let me know your thoughts on this series so far, feedbacks are always nice and appreciated 🥰❤️

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #illicitus series #masochist writes

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

Text

Don't Leave Me This Way

Word count- It's a doozy at 3500

Warnings- language, oral sex (m!receiving), fingering, penetration (vaginal), angsty romance

A/N- After a decade together, Honey and Leon have come undone. But on the anniversary of the day their lives changed Leon decides to mend them. For @forenschik 💋 Part One

Part Two:

Leon wasn’t quite sure walking was the best choice. Lightning lit up the sky every few minutes, and Honey’s silence as they strolled at a leisurely pace worried him. He knew, if anything, she was contemplating what he had said about traveling.

After a block, she finally looked at him and took a sharp breath in. Then all she could exhale was the damn kids.

“We still need to decide about Sunny going to school! Can he control himself around other kids, or should he be homesch-”

“HONEYYY!” Leon let loose his familiar whine. He stood firm so that as she kept going he yanked her backwards. “Enough about the kids! I love them, but please. Can you even make it back home without talking about them for one bloody minute?!”

Honey turned to face Leon. She planted her fists on her hips. This was a move he had watched Selina make a hundred times, but thought she swiped it from Wonder Woman. Now he knew it was from the bad ass chick he lived with. His wife popped one hip out to the side and curved a brow.

“Is that a challenge, Kostas? Care to wager.”

“Whot? No. I suck at gambling.”

“Bingo! Whatever you’re going to say, if I win, I get to sleep with Klaus.”

It was as if she had been thinking about this for ages. Just waiting for an opportunity to ask her husband, or maybe bait him. Spurned on by the heat and mundanity she never believed would settle in her marriage.

Leon wouldn't bite. Not really. “Even if you win, that'll never happen. You'll take one look at the bloody stupid problematic tattoo on his stomach and get unnerved.”

“Whatever. Either way, top that bitch.” Honey only had a hint of seriousness in her voice. Her smile reached her eyes.

Leon made a huff noise and rolled his eyes. Like he was disgusted. He threw his arms up and shrugged. “If you lose, ANYTIME or ANYWHERE, no matter what is happening, when I ask? you've got to kiss me.”

“That's not a punishment. I kiss you all the time.”

“But do you really, love? A nice one before work or when we get home or before we go to sleep. I'm talking about deep, passionate kisses like we used to.”

Honey’s shoulders sagged. Here she was wagering a night with a knock off, literally, of her husband. And all he wanted was that fire they once had. Both of them worried it had become embers just begging to be stoked and lit ablaze again.

Honey held out her hand, “Deal.”

Leon took it and turned it over. He raised it up to his lips and kissed her wrist, “Deal.” His hand encompassed hers and they started to walk as the wind picked up. They, however, strolled leisurely down Mulberry Street.

Honey was rather quiet, and Leon smirked. His wife would rather keep her mouth shut than risk mentioning the kids if she opened it. He didn't mind talking about them, not really.

Leon joked to Johnny once that his “Littles” were like acid trips that had come to life. Except they needed emotional guidance. He was glad that they had at least a few more years until they had to explain Sunny didn't just resemble his father, but his mother had her suspicions.

“Leon, where have you gone off to?” Honey was snapping her fingers in his face. “I asked you why a week isn't enough to reset?”

“How often did your parents go on holiday without the six of you?”

Honey was silent for so long as they sauntered along that Leon thought she was either worried she would mention Selina and Sunny in her answer. But she was thinking and couldn't recall. She responded with, “It's more like WHEN did my parents go on vacation without the six of us.”

“Alright.”

“1969. Wait no. That was the holiday you paid for to see me. Oh.. I don't know!”

“Exactly. My parents never went away without us and then not alone until my dad got sick. I don't want to wait until it's our last holiday together. So we go home,” he put his arm around Honey's neck and pulled her close to kiss the top of her head, “and just close your eyes and pick.”

She let her hands enclose around his as it hung down over her chest. “And we go there.” Honey brought Leon's hand up to her mouth so her lips just brushed his knuckles.

Leon’s instincts took over when she let him go. He slid under the fabric of her dress between her breasts. His fingers traced a lazy circle over Honey's nipple then teased it pert.

He went around. Quicker. This time he pinched it gently. When her breath hitched, he did it a bit harder. His eyes on the people milling about the streets of Lower Manhattan. His touch never waned.

Honey looked up at her husband. She studied the way his lip curled a bit like Elvis. How his nose curved subtly to the left because of a youthful accident near Kensington Gardens.

“Never trust a boomerang. They bloody well do come back!” he declared one night during their first years together.

Present Honey let her nail trace over it, and snickered unexpectedly. She watched Leon's eyebrows meet in the middle with thoughts of what was on with his missus. His eyes shifted a sideways glance at her, but his lip turned outwards in the tiny pout that preceded a smile.

“Whot?!” he exclaimed when Honey retraced the old break. She giggled a little more. “I WAS SEVEN! I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS GONNA WORK!” Leon shouted. “Dad told me I ruined my Greek face with a Roman nose.”

Honey stopped dead and gasped. Her jaw fell open in feigned shock. “Excuse me!? Romans took the Greeks, and we made them better!”

Leon reached his hands down over his wife’s ass. Their bodies flush with each other so he could knead it. “You certainly made this Greek better.”

Honey raised up on her tiptoes (despite her four inch heels) to throw her arms around Leon's neck. He was taken aback when Honey did a little hop so her lips could meet. He lifted her off the ground while her mouth opened enough for him to slip her his tongue. Hers fought back.

Back and forth their tongues went while they kissed on Bleecker street across from the apothecary. A few cars drove passed and whistled. Honey let go enough to flip someone off. Leon laughed in her mouth.

His oxygen became hers, and Honey remembered what it had all been like. When was the last time she and Leon sparred with their mouths? Were desperate to be inside of each other?

She was the first to break the kiss. Back on the ground. She took Leon and led him off the street in a doorway to a shuttered bodega. Honey pushed him up against the brick wall then began undoing his dress pants. She delved in to grab his cock which easily hardened in her grip.

“Want a blow job?” she purred at him. Her touch stroked along his shaft.

“We're.. We're not that far from the flat. I.. can,” Leon moaned. He glanced down to see Honey lowering herself to her knees. “You'll ruin your dress.”

She had freed his cock to lick at the head. “I'll buy another.”

Honey took Leon completely in her mouth so that he hit the back of her throat. She gagged a little; his hips shuddered. He bucked and she created a vacuum with her mouth. She let go before letting the tip of her tongue run the length of his erection and around the tip. She looked up at him from where she knelt while spreading the foreskin to lick at the sensitive part inside.

“People know us around here,” Leon whined. His hold on the back of her head tightened and twisted up in her hair.

“Oh no! Local sexy Columbia professor gets sucked off by his goddess-like wife and East Village club owner.” Honey punctuated every few words with a swipe of her tongue on his cock. This was followed by soft sucking motions over the head and further down. “Wait until they find out we met making a porno.”

She stopped suddenly and stood to lead her husband back out onto the sidewalk towards home. Leon whimpered; Honey laughed. “Now that's for the restaurant! But you're right, a few more blocks and we're home. Then we're gonna fuck good and hard all over the flat.”

Leon picked up the pace.

----

Honey stumbled backwards into the stairwell up to their apartment. Leon invaded her space as he bent over to mesh his mouth with hers. He blindly fumbled for the zipper to her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt. He kicked his shoes off, then his pants and tugged the dress off his wife's body so she was naked in the foyer except for her wedged heels.

Honey took a step back to catch her breath. She pushed the shirt back off Leon's shoulders and kissed them. Once he stepped out of his boxers, she let her mouth hurry along his collarbone. She stopped only to nibble and bite at the base of his neck.

He sighed letting his hands run up and down her bare back. They settled where the small of her back curved inwards. Leon held her to his chest when Honey reciprocated.

Another instance lost to their busy schedule. Neither could remember the last time they embraced like this. Not just a hug. Luckily they were affectionate with each other if only in passing. But not like this. Just touching one another in their nakedness.

Leon backed Honey onto the stairs where he sat her down on his shirt. Like her dress, he could buy another. He just wanted a clean place for her to rest. He lifted her ankle thanking the gods her shoes had laces around it instead of those damnable straps even she had a hard time with.

Honey sat forward to stop him. “I want to leave them on.”

Leon frowned, “Whot?”

Honey laughed and got up to face him as she made her way up the steps. She bit her lip as he followed. The light in the well helps her see every inch of her partner.

The erection she created out on the street as it strained and twitched for her. His muscular arms couldn't quite catch her because she remained out of his reach the further up she climbed. His sly smile with the curved top lip. A smile that reached green eyes that transformed from indescribable colors to a shade darkened by desire.

Honey wasn't paying attention to the pile of troll dolls that were set up just outside their door. She was too busy squealing when Leon finally caught up to her. He growled and snapped his jaw at her thigh from a few feet down. She couldn't see anything but her 34 years flash across her eyes when she tripped and toppled and cried out.

“DAMMIT, SELINA!!”

Leon practically flew to snatch her up in his arms before she could properly fall. She had opened the door at least and instead of down the stairs they tumbled on to the front hallway floor. Leon cushioned her as best as he could when they landed.

“I told her if she left those creepy things out there someone was gonna get killed! OOOO!” Honey let out a frustrated scream.

“Are you alright?” Leon pretended to inspect his wife’s body. “No lumps?” He distracted her by capturing one of her breasts in his mouth while they laid side by side on the hardwood and throw-rug. He crawled on top of Honey and snuck a hand inside of her thighs. His fingers dove inside of her like back at the restaurant. “No bruises?”

Honey felt her sex throb. Her back arched with one leg thrown around Leon's waist. “If you finger fuck me harder, I'll forget all about it.”

Leon complied. He slid them easily in and out; she had grown so wet for him already. His wife twisted and dug her nails into his back. Her hips bucking now like his had outside.

“Your ego is going to bruise,” he said low in her ear.

“Whhhhyyyy?!” She replied in a high pitched moan.

“You mentioned our daughter before we got home.”

“WE WERE IN THE STAIRWELL!”

Leon rolled off of his wife and got to his feet. He helped her up and made like he was going to kiss her. Honey ducked out of his way. “We don't live out on those stairs do we?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You lost, and I want my first snog.”

Honey dodged him once more and slithered out of his arms. “Cheeky bastard. That's cheating!” She moved towards the living room.

“That's not! It's called tactical. One again, WHO’S CIA TRAINED NOW?! NOW COME BACK HERE AND SNOG ME, WOMAN!”

“BUGGER OFF!” Honey screamed but launched into hysterical laughter as she gave chase through the apartment.

“Minx!” Leon shouted. He ran after her out on to the fire escape where she was out of his grasp once more.

He chased Honey to the roof. Once up there he looked around the garden they had built. Their own secret away from Manhattan created by the two of them, The Littles and Klaus. Ivy and wildflowers and a patch for vegetables and fruit. It wasn't much, but wildflowers always blossomed where they were planted and the bees that followed made honey tended to by his own sweet, sticky woman.

“Grazia, dove sei? Te voglio, ma donna selvaggia.” Leon called out to his wife in Italian. Then Greek: “Μου χρωστάς ένα φιλί”

Gracie, where are you? I want you, my wild woman. You owe me a kiss!

“Sono qui amore mio!” Honey called back from under the Bougainvillea covered arbor. “Say te voglio bene, Leo.” A nickname her father teased him with. “I want you always.”

“I DO want you. From the moment I saw you. Your hair was all plaited up around your head with this crown of daisies in your hair. Like Khloris, the goddess of flowers.”

Leon finally found Honey laying on the bench under the wooden structure. She was twisted at the waist with one leg curved, the other stretched out. She was propped up on her elbow. Her long black hair covered her breasts down to her sides almost. The rest of it splayed out on the seat.

He stood by her side now. “Now you're Aphrodite, aren't you?”

Leon let his touch trace over her olive skin curves. He studied her dark pubic hair between the softness of those curves. Brushed his fingers through it before sitting down next to her. He kissed the thickness of his wife’s hip.

Honey rolled on to her back. Her fingers in Leon's hair encouraged him to move his lips to her stomach and chest. He captured one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked till it hardened. Then he bit it gently until she cried out.

Leon laid on top of Honey. She drew his mouth to hers when he attempted to head back down her body. She craved the battle their tongues waged before. So they did.

Honey locked her ankles to Leon's hips and begged for him to push inside of her. She took the head of his cock to guide it inside of her slick entrance. “Please?” she beseeched.

Leon pushed up so he could look at her. “You don't want me to go down on you?”

“I do. Later. We can reenact that scene from our film debut. I just need you inside of me. I want to remember what we used to be like. Before we raised the moon and the sun and became mortal.”

Leon kissed Honey. Then again. And again. Small, quick, innocent kisses. He took her wrists and pinned them to the bench above her head. His free hand did with his cock what she had been doing moments before. He taunted her entrance with the first inch or so of his cock.

Honey pleaded for Leon to just do it already. He pressed his forehead in the crook of her neck just as he buried himself in her walls. “We are the pantheon wrapped up in human bodies. We will never be mortals.”

Honey cried out. She dragged her nails over Leon's shoulder blades as he lost himself up to the hilt with each thrust. The friction and movements grew steadily faster. Harder. Not quite violent, but their bodies crashed together repeatedly. As if the pain of Leon's pelvis slamming into Honey’s reminded them of who they are.

“Leon.. Stop,” Honey said breathlessly.

All movement ceased. “Am I hurting you?” he looked down at her apologetically.

She pushed the sweat soaked hair back from his forehead. The smell of sex and sweat and rain in the air coursed through Honey’s veins. She littered Leon's chest and neck with tiny pecks.

“No, I feel really good. I want to switch positions?”

The way she asked was almost sheepish. It made Leon smile as he pulled out of her and helped her up. Now he laid down so she could straddle him. The bench wasn't wide enough for her to kneel like she usually did, so Honey would quite literally treat Leon like a horse.

She positioned herself over his cock. Used the head to caress her slit. Honey watched Leon bite his entire bottom lip. His chest heaved with heavy breaths that only quickened when she finally sank down on to him. His fingers dug so deep into her curves, he was practically up to his first knuckle.

Honey found a pace that was slow and steady. She balanced herself with palms flat on her husband’s chest. She drove forward so that he filled her totally. Then back until only the head stayed inside. She thrust forward swift and vigorous until every inch was covered by her sex Honey felt herself pulsate around Leon.

She let herself be physically manipulated by her husband now. He rocked her back and forth until their rhythm was breakneck.

Neither of them realized the skies had opened up and it started to pour. The rain cascaded through the arbor on to them as they discovered each other on the bench in the middle of their own Garden of Eden.

And Honey understood as she arched her back and anchored herself on Leon's thighs. Her body was undulating with abandon. The two of them fucking; their bodies crashing together like the thunder. She understood what it meant to gain knowledge from the forbidden fruit.

Somewhere, in some ripple in time, or flip of the coin, she and Leon had been split in half. Honey was made from him. Pulled from his soul and fashioned for him. He had been taken from HER soul and fashioned for her. This was what she meant the night Selina had been born: their stolen pieces would always mend together in every generation.

He spilled into her, crying out her name. Her real name. She threw back her head and released a cry a few minutes later drowned out by the sound of a storm. They twitched and sighed and smiled in that lazy post orgasmic way.

Now they stood, Honey a bit off balance and giggling as Leon righted her. His hair a matted mess stuck to his face and neck which she tried desperately to manage. But he kissed her instead like the night they met and the night they fell in love. How they would kiss for the next fifty years.

“I think a hot bath is in order!” he bellowed over the noise.

For the second time that night, Honey couldn't resist.

Tag: @magic-multicolored-miracle @love-is-dirty-baby @a-ghoulish-tale @elliethesuperfruitlover @neuroticpuppy @nightmonsters @super-unpredictable98 @duck-noises @falloutby @vonkimmeren @bisexualnathanyoung @rob-private @maerenee930 @messengeronthemoon @frogs--are--bitches @firstpersonnarrator @feed-davis-and-steve

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #leon x honey #moonbrella universe #robert sheehan fluff #robert sheehan smut #100+ followers event #klaus hargreeves

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subterfugespecialist · 3 years

Text

I Will Break What Has Broken You

Janus is the heir of a millionaire CEO. He could have anything, anybody he wanted. And he picked Remus. Remus couldn't be happier with what they have. But when they're out one night and Remus runs into his ex, all the unpleasant memories start flooding back.

Written for Day 4 of @dukeceitweek : Free day

AO3 link

Pairing: Dukeceit

Warnings: Past verbal/emotional abuse, deadnaming - though the deadname is not actually typed out, unwanted advances

Word count: 2861

People were usually surprised to hear that Janus was dating Remus.

Janus - the son of old money, an heir to a multi-million dollar business - could have anything and anyone he wanted. All sorts of people threw themselves at his feet, desperate for both his sharp looks and good fortunes.

But Janus didn't want anybody. He wanted Remus. And that sure made Remus feel special.

Janus had been wary about dating. So many people had been after his family's money, after all. But then he met Remus, who didn't care that Janus could afford to buy the movie theater and still insisted their first date be sneaking into as many movies as possible because it was "more fun that way." He didn't care what kind of car Janus drove as long as Remus could drag Janus into the backseat. Who didn't care how many houses Janus owned, as long as they were together. Remus, who looked past his money and liked Janus for his catty, smart personality.

And Janus was utterly taken.

But sure, Janus having money certainly had its perks. Janus would indulge on any random impulse Remus had. Wanted to drop everything and go on a trip without anyone? Janus would treat him to a private jet (Remus was pretty sure they were the top members of the mile-high club at that point). Had the urge to rent a room in the fanciest hotel in Paris just to smoke weed? Sure. Paying for Remus' top surgery? Remus didn't even have to ask for that one. Janus making his birthday present to Roman paying off his entire student loans for his musical theatre degree? Remus was just smitten.

But one of the best parts was getting to be Janus' plus one at parties, where he'd wear his torn up pants with a hole showing his entire thigh and a neon green mesh shirt under his leather jacket. Security guards would try to escort him out before Janus would take him by the hand and kiss his forehead. He would introduce guests to Remus as his boyfriend and they would always do a double-take. Because that must be some sort of joke, right? Janus dating this man? But Janus would take Remus firmly by the waist and glare at them, daring them to actually say anything. And they would put on their pained smiles and complete their pleasantries before rushing off.

They couldn't be happier.

Tonight they were in a sort of underground club in New York. The music was so loud you could hardly hear yourself speak, and most people there this late in the night were too intoxicated to be coherent.

It was one of Remus' favorite places.

Remus was dancing with Janus, which mostly meant Remus dancing as Janus held onto him, occasionally spinning him around or pulling him close. But Remus didn't mind. How could he when Janus would watch him with such eyes, that made Remus feel so wanted?

Janus pulled his phone out of his pocket and scowled at the glowing screen as he pulled Remus close to him.

"I'm afraid I have to take this, darling," he said right against Remus' ear. "I'll have to step outside for a moment."

"That's fine," Remus yelled back. "I'll meet you at the bar, babes."

Janus pulled Remus into a searing kiss that would usually be considered too heat to be appropriate for public spaces, but with all the couples dirty dancing against each other around them it hardly mattered.

"I'll be back soon" Janus promised before slipping away into the crowd. Remus stood, smiling like a fool for a moment before heading towards the bar. The music was slightly quieter here, and Remus could actually hear himself think.

He hopped onto a barstool, spinning once before glancing at the drinks menu. Then someone sat beside him.

"I'm really not surprised to see you here."

Remus froze as his blood turned to ice. He had to force himself to look to see that, yes, it was him sitting on the barstool.

"I would have thought Janus would be with you," Remus' ex said as he sipped his drink. "I'm surprised he trusted his little plaything to go out on his own."

"How the fuck do you know about me and Janus?" Remus asked, hands gripping the edge of his barstool and making his knuckles go white. "Have you been stalking me like a creep? Just couldn't let me go, Aiden?"

"Baby, the whole business world has been talking about it," Aiden said with a smirk, unaware, or perfectly aware, of how the old nickname made bile rise in Remus throat, "It's some of the best gossip right now. Though I personally thought Janus was above spending his time on such things."

"It's so funny that you think you know Janus," Remus said with a grin that was far too wide. "You don't know shit about him."

"I've worked with him before, babe," Aiden said. "He is much too dedicated to his work to bother with someone like you."

Remus' blood was boiling, and he couldn't figure out why. He never cared before what people thought of him. He usually liked surprising people with Janus. So why did it hurt when Aiden said it?

Was it because they used to be together? Was it because Remus used to try so desperately to get the approval of his partner, but never seemed to obtain it? And it seems like he still hadn't.

"That's a nice skirt you're wearing," Aiden said, breaking Remus from his thoughts and making him realize he hadn't said anything for a good minute, "I thought you'd avoid those, given your... situation."

Remus had finally reached a point where he felt comfortable in a skirt, even after all the things Aiden said to him. But now he just felt exposed. It felt so good, when Janus rested a hand on his knee when they sat or gripped the back of his bare thigh as they pulled each other close. But now, all he wanted was to close his legs and pull the edge of his skirt over his knees.

"I like wearing skirts," Remus defended, though he didn't know how effective he was with the tremor in his voice.

How could Aiden keep making him feel worse? Digging deep into old wounds, breaking newly healed scars. Remus took a deep breath. He wasn't going to let Aiden ruin all of his progress after they had been apart for nearly two years.

"Well then," Aiden said in a voice that instantly made Remus worried. He then placed his hand on Remus' knee and he was very much not Janus and Remus suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. "Since Janus isn't here, how about we relive some old times, huh ******?"

Hearing his dead name immediately made Remus feel like the floor was taken from under him. He stood without another word and forced his way through the dense crowd on the dance floor. The bright lights and loud music were suddenly too much and Remus couldn't breath his chest wouldn't move he was suffocating-

He finally reached the emergency fire exit, which he knew the alarm didn't work because he had seen couples use it to sneak out for quickies. Once outside he immediately fell to his knees, hands resting on the asphalt, struggling to breath as the door shut behind him. He managed to crawl over to sit against the wall through short gasps of hair. Remus held his head in his hands and gripped his hair tight. Memories were flooding back - none of them pleasant.

His chest was too heavy. He couldn't get his lungs to work right he couldn't get air he was going to pass out right here in the alleyway-

"Remus!"

Janus.

"Oh, darling, it's okay," Janus said, panicked as he sat across from his boyfriend. He opened his arms and Remus immediately flung himself against him, gripping tightly to the back of Janus' jacket like a life line.

"Follow my breathing, love," Janus said softly into Remus' ear, chest pressed against the other making it easier for Remus to follow.

Remus focused on the feeling of Janus against him, around him. Janus' chest moving against his own, his voice and breath against his ear. Janus, Janus, Janus-

"There you go," Janus said softly as he pulled back just enough to look at Remus' face. Remus closed his eyes, focusing on Janus' hands resting on his cheeks, thumbs moving in soothing motions. "You did wonderfully."

"How'd you find me so fast?" Remus asked, "Knew I'd be out with trash, where I belong?" he forced out a laugh though tears fell down his face.

"Remus," Janus scolded.

"Sorry, sorry. No self deprecating, I know."

Though it had been a tough habit for Remus to break.

"You aren't trash," Janus muttered as he pushed Remus' hair out of his face. "You know I only indulge myself in the nicest things."

"How can you say that?" Remus muttered, glancing down to avoid Janus' gaze. "I'm far from nice."

"You are by far the most valuable, precious thing in my life," Janus said firmly as his hand moved to Remus' chin to force him to look in his eyes. "And I won't stand for you saying such things about yourself."

"You could have anything," Remus said, mouth quivering as tears fell freely down his face. "And yet you waste your time on me?"

"My time is never wasted with you. I'd give away all my fortune and luxuries that come with it if it meant spending just one more day with you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, and all your craziness and curiosities. You are the most incredible person I've ever met and you only ever make me happier than I've ever been."

Janus wiped the tears off Remus' face, and no more followed.

"I love you so much," he whispered. "And you are deserving of everything good thing in this world"

"You sap," Remus said as he lightly punched Janus' arm, tears threatening to spill again - but not from sadness, "I love you, too."

"Are you feeling okay, my love?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. Sorry about that freakout."

"You don't have to apologize," Janus said as he ran his hand back over Remus cheek and pressed their foreheads together, "But who did that to you? push such unfounded doubts in your head? Because I do have to find them now, and ruin their life."

Remus groaned and leaned back, hitting the brick wall behind him. "Do you remember, a couple months after we started dating, I had that freakout and thought we needed to break up?"

"Yes," Janus said, a touch of bitterness in his voice. "You had the insane idea that you weren't good enough, and I made sure you knew that was not true. You're not feeling like that again, are you?"

"No. Well, I was, but- Okay so remember how I admitted that was because of my ex? Well, he's here. He talked to me."

Janus' expression quickly turned into one of fury, eyes turning dark as his mouth set into a scowl.

"He called me your plaything. Said he worked with you and that he knew you were too good for me. Then he touched me and said my dead name and came onto me and that made me feel so gross because he wasn't you and all these shitty feelings came back and just. Yeah. It was fucked up."

"Give me his name," Janus nearly growled. "I'll make sure he regrets every decision he ever made."

"Aiden Scott."

"Scott, Scott..." Janus muttered to himself, pondering for a moment before his eyes widened.

"Aiden Scott? He said- Working? With me? oh dear," Janus laughed as he stood, hand outstretched for Remus to take. "Come on, my darling," Janus said with a large smirk. "We have some things we need to straighten out."

Remus let Janus pull him up, but the thought of going to see Aiden again was making him feel sick. His nerves were dampened, however, by the strong grip Janus had around his waist as Remus led him over to the bar.

"Aiden Scott," Janus announced. When Aiden looked over his face paled as he glanced between them, "What a chance, seeing you here."

"Hello, Janus, sir," Aiden managed to say as he stood, outstretching a hand for Janus to shake. Janus glanced at it before looking back up and pulling Remus closer to his side.

"I heard what you said to Remus," Janus said, leaning against the bar and examining his manicure. "And I can't tolerate such things, Aiden."

"Oh, that?" Aiden let out a forced laugh to accompany the anxious smile on his face, "I was just messing with him. Like we used to, right?" Aiden cast Remus a desperate look, and Remus couldn't believe the absolute gall of this douchebag.

"Cut the bullshit," Janus snapped, saving Remus from having to say something, "You knew you shouldn't and yet you still had the nerve to speak to him that way, and you had the audacity to claim you knew me. Please. You had the privilege of standing in the same room as me. I would say you're nothing but an over-glorified secretary, but I actually like my secretary. It would be an insult to her hard work."

"Sir, I'm sorry. I just-"

"I don't care about your apology. Do you accept his apology, darling?" Janus asked, casting Remus a soft look.

"Nah."

Janus' soft look fell as he turned his attention back to Aiden, and Remus probably found the immediate shift in tone hotter than he should've - but he really didn't care.

"I could easily have you fired. I could make sure you never find another job with any of our companies ever again."

"No, sir, please, I-"

"But I don't think I will," Janus said, surprising both Remus and Aiden. "I want to keep my eye on you. I want to make sure you don't take a single step out of line again. You can keep your lowly job in the office, right where I can keep careful watch.

"I don't want you here at this club again. I don't want you anywhere in the near vicinity of Remus. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell away."

"Yes, sir. Of course. Thank-"

"Get out."

"You won't regret not firing me, sir. I'll-"

"Get out."

Remus let out a loud cackle at the way Aiden turned and ran towards the front door, stumbling over his feet through the crowd. Remus was flooded with relief from the promise that that asshole would never bother him again.

He looked over to Janus, who was still wearing that stone-angry look on his face as he straightened his hat, gaze following Aiden to make sure he actually left. Janus then turned to look at Remus, and his face changed back into one of reverence and comfort. Remus was filled with such overwhelming emotions he had no control over his body as he grabbed Janus' hands and pulled him towards the back.

Janus let Remus pull in into the single stall bathroom. Remus slammed the door behind them before pulling Janus to him, burying his head into the crook of Janus' neck and holding him tight. Maybe if he squeezed Janus hard enough, he could show him just how much Janus meant to him.

"Hey now, love, it's alright," Janus said, voice much clearer now that the loud music was dulled behind the door.

"No, I'm fine," Remus laughed into his neck, "Fuck, babe, you were incredible."

"Anything for you, my darling," Janus said as he pressed a kiss to the top of Remus' head.

"But why didn't you fire him?" Remus asked as he pulled away to look at Janus' face.

"I figured letting him go would be too easy - over too quickly. Now he gets to deal with me hovering over his shoulder for as long as he can handle it.

"Which won't be long. I'll make him regret everything he ever did to you."

Remus was so overwhelmed with love for the man in front of him - a man who actually loved him for who he was - that he couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around Janus' neck and dragging him down into a kiss.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Janus leaned away with a light chuckle, but Remus immediately reconnected their mouths.

Janus placed one hand securely on the back of Remus' neck, the other cupping his cheek. Remus leaned back into the hand, tilting his head up and letting Janus deepen the kiss. He let himself go pliant under Janus' lips, Janus' grasp. He was completely content to give all his trust to this man. After all Janus had done for him, hasn't he deserved it?

Janus pulled away again, and this time Remus let him go.

"Should we go back to the dance floor? You looked so happy there. If you're feeling okay enough, that is."

And with Janus' arm wrapped snugly around him, Remus found that yeah, he was.

If you are 18+ and have your age/age indicator in your bio, you can message me for the NSFS sequel that takes place directly after

Thanks for reading! Requests are open in my inbox. Hope you enjoyed <3

#sanders sides #dukeceit week #remus sanders #janus sanders #dukeceit #remus fic #janus fic #dukeceit fic

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averykedavra · 3 years

Note

If you’re feeling up for it could you please do 3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.” With Roman and Janus. Thank you!!

(Wow, you all really like roceit, huh? This is my sole prompt for today as I caught up on homework instead, but I’ll be back tomorrow, if canon doesn’t break me)

Words: 3981

“Okay,” Janus said. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” Roman flinched and pulled at his apron. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Hold on a second,” Janus told the customer in front of him, who opened their mouth to ask a question. Janus made a zip it gesture before pushing off the counter and dragging Roman into the storage closet. The door automatically closed, and Janus kicked the wedge into the gap before it slammed.

Hidden among racks of coffee beans, Roman seemed to relax. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward to kiss Janus quickly on the lips.

“You okay?” Roman asked when he pulled away. “You look stressed.”

“Of course I am, I’m on barista duty.” Janus glanced at the door. He could hear the customers babbling, but if this was an emergency, they would survive without a dead-eyed barista to hand them coffee. “What’s wrong?”

“What, do I need an excuse to see my boyfriend?” Roman placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “I love you!”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Janus said, though he allowed himself to preen at the affection. “You’re harried and there’s coffee all over your apron. And you’re supposed to be lifting boxes. What happened?”

Roman sighed and deflated like an old balloon. “The shadow demons are holding the place hostage again.”

“Again?” Janus groaned. “What is that, three times this month?”

“Yep.” Roman popped the p.

Janus sighed and glanced at his feet. “What do they want this time?”

“Dunno, but I can assume the usual.” Roman waved a hand. “Annihilation and destruction and blood to drench the floors, et cetera et cetera.”

“Great. This shift was too quiet.” Janus untied his ponytail and retied it, pulling all the strands taut. “Any casualties so far?”

“The coffee machine stopped working again.”

“Those bastards.”

“I’ve been telling you to get an exorcist,” Roman said. “Honey, this is just going to keep happening.”

“Am I in charge? No! Ask Patton, whenever he actually shows up.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Besides, exorcists are scam artists and religious nuts.”

“We have demons,” Roman pointed out. “You can believe in shadow demons, but not in exorcists?”

Janus rolled his eyes again. “That’d be a large chunk of the budget. If it matters to you so much, ask Patton.”

Roman huffed. “I’d much rather talk to you! Because I like you!”

“Sap.” Janus glanced at the door again. “We’d better hurry. What’s the details of this one?”

“Runes on the basement wall. Can’t decipher them. Virgil’s guarding the door to make sure nothing escapes.”

“Runes. Should be easy.” Janus wiped his hands on his apron and wished he’d made himself a shot of espresso. Saving the coffee shop was always easier while buzzed on caffeine. “Lead the way, darling.”

“Gladly!” Roman grabbed his hand, kissed it, and pulled Janus out of the storage room. They passed a clamoring crowd of customers, and Janus soaked in the final glimpse of sunlight. It was a busy day. All the more reason to solve this problem before it threatened any customers--they didn’t need another one-star Yelp review.

Of course, they could just move. Or, probably more reasonably, burn the cursed place to the ground and stab the ashes. No good could come from a shop so deeply filled with shadow demons. But Patton insisted--through email, the few times he actually responded--that the place had value to the community. Janus doubted that, but he wasn’t paid enough to object.

Capitalism. The only reason he took this job. It had seemed too good to be true that they were hiring without any previous experience. And, as Janus feared, it was.

Still, perhaps it would be good for his resume. Worked as manager-by-default at Spirit Cafe. Practiced at taking orders from no one, fighting shadow spirits, bartering for the life of an unlucky intern, and making espresso.

“Capitalism,” Janus complained as Roman led him downstairs.

“Yes, love, I know.”

The basement was two levels--the first was called the ‘chocolate factory,’ and the second, ‘spider hell.’ Roman had named the first in a burst of whimsy after rereading the Willy Wonka book. The second was self-explanatory. The second was also home to most of the demons.

When Janus passed the few employees around, they gave him a do we have to evacuate look. He responded with a don’t think so, keep toiling for the man look. Roman gave them all a perky thumbs up.

The second set of stairs were too greasy to make out their color. It was old legend that the posters and artwork grew older the farther you went--the cafe on the top floor was fresh and bright, and the chocolate factory was decorated with motivational posters that were splattered with coffee. Spider hell was devoid of intact decorations. Just old photos with faded edges, a few outdated certificates of health, and torn motivational posters.

For example, the poster on the door to spider hell. It had a kitten image, and was probably supposed to say Hang in there! The bottom was torn off. It just said Hang.

Roman opened the door and bowed dramatically. Janus sighed, kissed Roman’s cheek, and entered spider hell.

The hallway itself was clean, if a bit too reminiscent of fluorescent middle school halls. Most of the doors didn’t open. Janus kicked one as he passed, and the narrow window glinted back at him. Door, door, old bathroom with moths around the lights, door, mysterious graffiti--

Virgil, who breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the door to the boiler room. His apron was tied around his waist like a sweater. Behind him were several wooden rods, a few floorboards, and balled-up motivational posters, all jammed against the door to keep it locked.

“You’ve been busy,” Roman said. “Is that a folding chair?”

“I had to be careful!” Virgil pressed closer to the door. “I’m too young to die! I was gonna steal some metal from the pipes, but Janus would have been mad.”

“Correct,” Janus agreed. “We’re going to deal with this situation, alright? You can go cover for me upstairs--we need another barista.”

“I can leave?” Virgil whooped. “Oh, thank fuck, I’m gonna get the hell out of here. Have fun.”

“We will!” Roman said.

Virgil saluted them, then raced down the hallway. “Gonna expect a pay raise for all this!”

“Take it up with Patton,” Janus yelled.

“Don’t blame things on your imaginary friend!”

“He’s not--”

The door slammed behind Virgil. Janus turned to Roman petulantly. “He’s not imaginary. I’ve seen him. Once.”

“Sure,” Roman said.

“Ugh.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Why do I keep you two around?”

“Well, Virgil’s the coffee machine whisperer! And I’m devilishly handsome.” Roman winked at him. “You can’t resist, dearest.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Janus turned to the door. “In we go?”

“Into the breach, dear boyfriend.”

It took several minutes to pull the obstacles off the door. Virgil had managed to pound nails into the doorframe, probably in sheer panic, and Roman kept pausing to nurse splinters. Janus pried the folding chair from the door, tore off the posters, and kissed Roman’s hand when he asked. Finally, the door was clear enough for Janus to force it open.

An unwritten rule at the coffee shop was to keep flashlights everywhere. Behind every door, on every table, and in every pocket. Janus pulled his own out of his apron. Roman did the same.

At first, the boiler room looked normal. The huffing pipes, tossing steam into the corners, and the grimy concrete floor. Then Janus’ flashlight skidded onto the wall, and the beam illuminated a series of runes burned into the plaster. Each letter was about the size of Janus’ head, and the edges were rough, like they’d been clawed there.

“No blood,” Janus noticed. “They’re losing their touch.”

“I’m assuming that’s a message.” Roman walked forward and squinted at it. “Can you make anything out?”

Janus tried to put the squiggles into some kind of order. It looked like a few dozen letters, but he couldn’t be sure, because they blended into each other and made his head hurt. “I have no idea what that says.”

“Darn.” Roman folded his arms and flickered his flashlight on the runes like a strobe light. They did not magically coalesce into something coherent. “Logan’s not here, right?”

“He’s off-shift.” Janus thought for a second before pulling out his phone. “I’ll text him.”

“What if he’s busy?”

“The customer is always right, and always comes first,” Janus said while unlocking his phone. “Customers don’t want to die. He can spare a moment for us. And I’m his manager-by-default, so he has to do what I say.”

“Fair,” Roman said, giving Janus the you’re very cute when you’re in charge smile.

Janus would have teased him about that, if they had time. Instead, he just shot Logan a text. Can you decode something?

Half a minute passed.

This is important, Janus texted.

Ten more seconds with no response.

I will fire you, Janus texted. We’re all going to die, Janus texted. This is an emergency, Janus texted. Our deaths will be on your conscience if you keep ignoring me, Janus texted.

“Maybe he just hasn’t seen the texts,” Roman pointed out, leaning over Janus’ shoulder.

Answer me or I swear I’ll fucking find you, Janus texted.

“Dearest,” Roman said.

“What?”

Before Roman could say something endearingly naive about ‘compassion’ or whatever, Janus’ phone buzzed.

What do you need? Logan had texted back.

Janus held up his phone and took a picture of the runes. Fortunately, they showed up on camera. The picture still mysteriously corrupted mid-message, but when Janus re-sent it, Logan sent back a thumbs up.

What does it say? Janus asked.

Logan typed for several seconds. Finally, Janus received a small wall of text. He skimmed it, closed his eyes, and opened his eyes again.

“That’s not English,” Roman said hesitantly. “I’m not losing it. That’s not English, right?”

“I think it’s Catalan.” Janus sighed and thumbed out a response. That wasn’t English, try again.

Apologies, Logan responded. I’ll try again.

Janus waited impatiently, watching the small white dots as Logan texted. Roman dropped a kiss to his forehead for no apparent reason. Janus did his best not to blush.

Finally, Logan sent a small paragraph, followed by English?

Yes, good job. Thank you.

No problem. Stop texting me more than once or I will block you.

How dare you, I am your manager.

No response. Janus resolved to discreetly spill coffee on Logan’s shirt on their next shared shift.

“What’d he say?” Roman asked, impatiently jumping from foot to foot.

Janus skimmed the paragraph. “It looks like a riddle. ‘What walks on two legs--’”

“Human,” Roman interrupted. “Oh, that’s an easy one!”

Janus shook his head. “‘What walks on two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look?’”

For a second, they were both quiet.

“That’s not a human,” Roman finally said, a bit weakly.

“Humans don’t tend to gain limbs, you’re correct.” Janus let out a breath. “Analogy or not, human is not the answer.”

“Then what is it?” Roman turned to the wall again. The letters dripped like burns down the wall. “We--I’m assuming they want us to solve the riddle.”

“Yeah.”

“Why a riddle?”

“Sometimes you get bored,” Janus said. “I get it.”

Roman looked incredulously at him.

“The bigger question is what happens if we don’t guess it,” Janus continued, tapping his fingers on his phone. “Definitely something good.”

“And how much time do we have?”

As if by agreement, they both looked back at the door. It had slammed shut. The only light were their flashlights, illuminating the hulking boiler and the dustiest corners of spider hell. No spiders yet, but it was only a matter of time. Janus could almost hear them rustling.

“That’s not going to open,” Roman said, his voice pitched up. “Is it?”

“Only one way to make sure.” Janus strode over to the door and tugged on the handle. It was like tugging on a concrete wall. “Congratulations, you win a prize.”

“Wonderful,” Roman exclaimed. “Fabulous! We’re trapped here!”

Janus stepped back and rammed his shoulder into the door. The only thing he achieved was shoulder pain.

“I’m gonna call someone.” Roman pulled out his phone. The blue light trembled over his face. “Get us out of here.”

“We haven’t solved the riddle yet!” Janus protested, giving up on the locked door. “Solve it, and we leave, and the shop won’t be in danger.”

“I’d rather be alive, thanks!”

“Coward,” Janus murmured, scanning the room for immediate threats, and finding nothing but shadows and cobwebs. That didn’t mean nothing was there. It just meant they still had time. “We have to keep the shop from burning down, it’s the bare minimum of our jobs.”

Roman ran a hand through his hair. “And what’s it to us? I hate this job, and so do you.”

“Patton would fire me if I didn’t--”

“So get fired!” Roman burst out in frustration. “Let this place go up in smoke, I don’t care!”

“There are people in here! We need their money!” Janus waved his hands around. “Capitalism!”

That made Roman snicker, which made the tension settle, which made Janus smile back.

“You can leave if you’d like,” Janus allowed after a moment. “If you can find a way out. I can try to solve the riddle on my own.”

“What? No! We’re in this together.” Roman grinned at him. “If my boyfriend is stubborn enough to face down shadow demons like an idiot, I’m going to be an idiot with him.”

“Charming,” Janus said sarcastically, to avoid saying something extremely sappy. “You truly know how to treat a man.”

“I do!” Roman smiled wider and gestured at the runes. “A very smart man who will definitely solve this riddle!”

Janus nodded and turned back to the wall of runes.

Two legs in the air, and eight legs on the ground. It must be an analogy, like the original riddle, but what could air and ground represent? Imagination and reality? Or perhaps the legs were the metaphorical parts--

“Go Janus!” Roman cheered quietly from behind him.

“What?”

“I’m encouraging you!” Roman made jazz hands. “Solve it! You can do it, dear!”

Janus snickered and rolled his eyes.

“Go Janus,” Roman whispered.

Janus tried to focus on the riddle again.

Maybe he should research it. Logan clearly didn’t have an answer, or he probably would have included it with his text, but Logan was still a good problem-solver. Janus should have asked what language it was in. Janus should have confirmed the translation. Janus should have given Virgil a backup plan.

There was no use psyching himself out, though. This was another routine afternoon. He’d come out victorious a dozen times before, and there was no reason he wouldn’t keep up the streak.

Two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer he looked.

Janus looked harder.

And he saw legs. And hands, and claws scratching at the cement.

Oh, yay, just what he’d wanted! It must be his birthday.

“Roman,” Janus said slowly. “Do you see that too?”

“What?”

“Look very closely.”

A long pause. Then a loud “Fuck!”

“You see it?”

“Hard to miss now,” Roman said, wide-eyed. “What is that?”

Slowly, and steadily, the runes were crumbling. The burns were melting deeper into the wall. And from the holes, shadows climbed out--or maybe it was just the holes themselves, deepening and tearing, turning the world inside out.

“Fun,” Janus said, wishing he’d taken his chance to get the hell out of here while he still could. “This is very, very fun.”

“We should probably solve that riddle,” Roman said.

“Oh, really?” Janus clutched his flashlight tighter. The beam glanced off the shadows like light on oil. “I would have never guessed.”

Two legs in air, eight legs on the ground, more legs and hands and eyes glistening with oil--

The next few seconds were a blur. Something lunged, Janus’ flashlight winked out, and Roman’s clattered to the ground. A cold rope-hand-something curled around his ankle, and Roman’s hand grabbed his.

“Where’s my--” Roman’s voice was panicked. “Shit, okay, the flashlight’s by the boiler--”

“Okay,” Janus said quietly, trying to kick away the cold cloud-hand-whatever it was. “I can’t see the runes anymore.”

“They’re basically falling apart as we speak. You remember the riddle, right?”

“Two, eight, far too many.” Janus swallowed and tried to think. The cold around his ankle was growing warm, too, like frostbite so icy it burned. “Two, eight--”

His ankle was wrenched in a direction it wasn’t supposed to.

Janus heard a wet snap.

And oh, he knew that feeling. Too sudden and complete to hurt. Too much hurt to even comprehend, as if he could feel the pain coming, but not enough time to brace himself. Not nearly enough time.

Red-hot pain, jolting up his bones, from his broken fucking ankle.

He might have screamed. His knees buckled, and someone--Roman--caught him halfway to the floor. Everything was dark. Something red flashed in his vision. Janus could barely breathe without pain tearing at his lungs, but he tried, breathe in and out and wait for the world to stop spinning.

“Hey, whoa, okay, okay,” Roman was murmuring. “What happened? What--”

Janus opened his mouth to explain. All that escaped was a small whimper. If Janus was in less pain, he would have been embarrassed.

“Okay, okay, love, it’s okay.” A hand brushed Janus’ hair out of his face. “Keep breathing. Calm down. It’s okay.”

“Ankle,” Janus forced out. His limbs felt like jelly. “Fucking ankle, gonna fucking--”

“Yes, yes, you’ll get your revenge.” Roman’s voice was achingly soft, and it made Janus relax a bit. “I can lower you to the ground so you don’t have to put weight on it--”

“No,” Janus complained, rather enjoying the feeling of Roman’s arms around him. “Pretty sure we wanna be able to run--”

“You can’t run anyway.”

“Capitalism,” Janus mumbled. “Hate it.”

“Me too, love.”

Something scraped at Janus’ shoulder, something that felt uncomfortably like teeth. He stifled a yelp.

“Oh, that was something.” Roman’s harried tone told Janus he’d felt it, too. “Where is my flashlight--I can’t see anything--”

“Riddle,” Janus reminded him.

“Right,” Roman said. “Right, right, you know what? I’m gonna call someone! I’m gonna call someone.”

“Mm.”

A pause and several rustles. The pain was dulling to a manageable low roar. Janus felt something brush his hand and he swatted at it. Maybe they’d break his other ankle next. Maybe they’d work through him limb by limb, like a game of Hangman.

“Fuck off,” Janus told the darkness.

“Phone’s not--” Roman swore. “Phone’s not working. Of course.”

“Riddle.”

“Right.”

“Riddle,” Janus repeated. Two legs, eight legs, lots of legs. Maybe it didn’t have an answer and they were just messing with him. Maybe he’d answer it and die anyway. That would be a shame, dying with his boyfriend, especially because letting everyone in the building perish was definitely a health code violation.

Roman whacked at something. “Away, foul fiends!”

Janus tested his ankle. He couldn’t even bring himself to move it.

Wonderful. He couldn’t solve a three-line riddle, and he was going to die like a fool in the shadows of spider hell--

Wait.

“Two legs,” Janus said. His voice rasped. “Two legs in the air, when it’s falling on a thread--oh, I hate you.”

“What?” Roman asked.

“And eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look.” Janus laughed. “That’s fair enough.”

Something brushed against his back, feeling like scales.

“Spiders,” Janus said. “That’s the answer! Are you happy now? It’s spiders, leave us alone!”

For one horrifying second, one throb of his ankle, nothing happened.

And then the flashlight at Janus’ feet turned on.

Spider hell looked the same as it always did. Empty walls, a boiler choking on steam, and Roman’s flashlight rolling in the dust. Roman grabbed Janus’, leaned over, and grabbed his own.

“What--” Roman looked around. “Did you--solve it?”

“I think--” Janus slipped a bit in Roman’s arms.

“You did it!” Roman laughed in relief. “You did it, you absolute genius--”

Janus looked up at his boyfriend. Even through the haze of pain, he looked exceedingly adorable. Janus leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Don’t flatter me.”

“But darling, it’s so easy!” Roman adjusted Janus in his arms. “Does your ankle hurt?”

“Take a guess.”

“We’ll have to find you a doctor,” Roman said, pulling him forward. “Out of the basement first, though, before another villainous creature decides to use as afternoon entertainment.”

“Or the spiders find us,” Janus agreed. He tried to shift his weight onto his good foot, but he could barely move without his head spinning. “Ow.”

“Just stay put! I’ll carry you!”

“No.”

“I’ll assist you,” Roman amended. “Lean on me, and I’ll walk you upstairs, okay?”

Janus shifted in Roman’s arms. “Am I hurting you? I’m heavy.”

“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy.” Roman pressed a kiss to Janus’ head and led him to the door. He kicked it, and it opened. “I’ve got you, love. I’m escorting the brave savior of the coffee shop!”

“I’m manager by default,” Janus said, wrapping an arm around Roman’s waist. Just to hold himself up, of course. No other reason. “It’s my job.”

“You do a great job of it!”

“Someone has to.” Janus clung to Roman’s side as he led them up the stairs. The poster told him to Hang. Janus filled in the other two words, and hung in there.

“I think it’s broken,” Janus said as Roman half-carried him up the stairs. “This is humiliating. Also, expensive.”

“We’ll figure it out, people get hurt, it happens.” Roman paused on one landing. “I’m just happy it wasn’t anything worse.”

“Still the worst injury so far,” Janus said ruefully. “Give me employee of the month.”

Roman smiled and pulled him up the final stairs. “I’ll ask Patton.”

When they burst dramatically through the doors into the cafe, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not dead!”

“Not for lack of trying, no.” Janus eased himself onto a chair and took a deep breath. The cafe was bursting with people and lights, all the customers completely unaware that they’d just escaped their demise. Janus envied them. “The situation is taken care of, you can relax.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said. “Uh--you okay?”

“He’s taking the rest of the day off,” Roman said before Janus could explain. “Broken ankle. I’m going to rest with him at home, then he’ll take a trip to the clinic.”

“I’ll what?” Janus repeated. “I have a shift--”

“You’re the manager,” Roman pointed out. “Give yourself a free day.”

“The cafe’s busy! I’d leave us short-staffed!”

“You can’t walk.”

“Capitalism!”

“Self-care!” Roman folded his arms. “Virgil, can you cover for Janus as he goes home?”

“Uh--” Virgil looked between them. Janus expected him to say no. “‘Course! I bet I can grab Logan for an emergency shift, too.”

“No, you can’t,” Janus said mockingly as Virgil pulled out his phone. “He’s a bastard and won’t--”

Virgil’s phone buzzed. “He’ll be here in five.”

“Wh--” Janus blinked. “How did you--”

“He just doesn’t like you.” Virgil smirked at him. “Go rest, Jan, we’ll cover your ass.”

“You heard him!” Roman held out a hand. “Come on, love, let’s have a break. The coffee shop won’t burn down while you’re gone, and if it does, Patton can handle it.”

Janus wasn’t sure about that one. Maybe he would return to a burned shell of a building. Or several dead bodies.

But Virgil and Logan knew what to do. And an afternoon with his boyfriend didn’t sound too bad.

“Fine,” Janus said. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

#roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #averywrites #asks and answers #anon #yes i had way too much fun with this au why do u ask #yes this is too long why do u ask #yes i need sleep why do u ask #crap forgot warnings #tw injury #tw death mention #tw spiders #coffee shop au #supernatural au

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aster-aspera · 3 years

Text

The bitter end

Written with @despite-everything-exe

Warnings: major character death

Relationships: platonic DRLAMP (anxceit? maybe)

"It's coming," Patton whispered, barely audible as he looked on in fear. Everything was slow- it had been for years now, but it was the slowest it had even been yet. He could sense it, could feel the sand running out of the hourglass, and the sand was almost gone.

They all knew it was coming. Hell, even Thomas himself had been expecting it, but that didn't make it any less sad. Patton lifted his head up, looking at Roman with already tearful eyes to take his hand tightly. "There can't be much time left- ten minutes perhaps," he whispered, audibly shaky and filled with fear. Now was not a time to hide his emotions.

Truthfully, it hadn't ever been, and Patton scorned his younger self. Not that he could help it now.

Roman squeezed back, trying and failing to hide his tears. He couldn't break now, he needed to be strong. He was a prince, brave even in the face of adversity, even facing the end of all he knew and loved. Even though he knew that the bravery was a lie.

"We should find the others then," he said, standing up to gently tug Patton along, heading to everyone's individual rooms. He could feel the familiar feeling of dread rise up in his stomach, curl around his lungs and slowly cut off his breathing. He knocked on Logan's door.

The second Logan came out, Patton wrapped him tightly in his arms, body shaking with silent sobs as a mixture of death and fear squeezed at his lungs. "It's happening," he whispered in his ear, urgency, sadness, and panic curdling together in his voice.

Logan, ever-eloquent as he was, was at a loss for words. "Oh," he whispered, voice falling apart already.

Everything was beginning to feel cold and grey, like the forgotten stone of a weathered grave, no loved ones left alive to lie flowers or mourn.

Roman could feel himself breaking, fear and regret and the overwhelming anticipation of losing his family crashing through him like a tidal wave. A door creaked open from across the hall and he turned to see Virgil, exhausted from his constant worrying, staring at them with a resigned and hopeless expression. "It's happening, isn't it?" He asked, voice already choked up and breaking.

Logan was the only able to nod in confirmation, as Roman looked away at the ground, not wanting to face the others, and Patton had his face buried in Logan's chest.

Virgil used his depleted energy to painstakingly summon the other two sides. There might still be unresolved arguments between them, and unforgiven fights, but the most unforgivable action of all would be to let them die alone.

"What's goi-" Remus started, stopping dead still as soon as he saw the forlorn and empty look in Virgil's eyes. "Oh," he mumbled, just like Logan. Virgil could feel the life seeping out of him- see him turning grey. Janus said nothing, only moving to grip Remus' hand as fear and early onset grief rose in his chest, grabbing his lungs with a desperation that knocked all of the air from his body.

"Let's head to the commons," Patton rasped. He didn't want to spend his dying moments in a dark hallway. Dark holes were where you were supposed to go after you died, not beforehand. You were supposed to die with those you loved.

Well now, they could all die together. The worst kind of party.

They all shuffled to the common room together, a miserable parade heading towards their own funeral. Janus looked around, at the people he had spent his whole life with, the people he considered family. He remembered birthdays and Christmases, movie nights and tight hugs. None of them even felt real now.

He felt his heart sink, his chest feeling like an empty chasm as he yearned for something unidentifiable. They had all known the end was coming, but being face to face with it was a whole different story.

They weren't brave, they weren't happy, and they weren't calm. Panic, sadness, and despair gripped every particle in the air, clinging to their skin as they waited for their death in the cold common room.

Janus noticed Virgil's hand balled up tight in his sleeve, his whole body shaking. He stepped closer to him, Remus following along and gently took Virgil's hand in his, prying open his tightly clenched fist. "Virgil..." He started, a hundred things he wanted to say clamouring for space in his head. Apologies, accusations, memories- there was so much left unsaid between them, and he had no time to fix it.

If only they'd been less stubborn.

Suddenly, Virgil flung his arms around Janus, clinging to him tightly like it was the last time he'd ever get to, only it wasn't a metaphor. "I love you," he sobbed, tears soaking through Janus' outfit and pouring from Virgil's eyes faster than rain in a storm. "I'm so sorry, thank you for everything, and I love you so, so much," he said, voice barely distinguishable beyond the wavering sobs.

He removed his face from Janus' chest to look at the others. "Join us?" he croaked, a fragile sound echoing in the silent grave of a room. At least this way they could all go out together, holding eachother until the bitter end.

Roman nearly fell into their arms, Janus curling an arm around him to keep him steady as Remus took one of his hands, trying to communicate so many things to his brother. He didn't know how to say any of it out loud, so he hoped Roman would understand. Logan nodded and pulled Patton into their little huddle, letting the others wrap their arms around the two of them.

It wasn't particularly comfortable, elbows and shoulders digging into each other at weird angles, everyone pressed just too close for comfort in the cold, dimly lit space. But Logan couldn't imagine a better feeling than all of them together, like this. He wished he had taken more time to enjoy it, to simply spend time with them instead of burying himself in his work.

Regrets seemed a little pointless now- he could feel it all slipping away. Every star in the sky, every fact Thomas had ever learned, the name of every friend. Every moment with the others he'd missed by being too cold and stubborn, fading away. Mistakes he could never amend.

Roman moved a little bit away from Janus to pull his brother into the tightest hug he could- no way was he getting away with merely holding his hand. "I love you. So much," he whispered. "I should've been a better brother, but-" Remus cut him off. "No. None of that. You were perfect."

Regrets, apologies, confessions, and farewells were exchanged in choked-up voices from tear-stained faces. They tied up all the ends they could think of, but of course they were nowhere near a perfect denouement.

Minutes elapsed, sand falling through the glass, fate pulling the time away with its cruel hands, and the reality of the end was imminent.

Thomas' eyes feel shut for the last time and the mindscape went dark, every light switching permanently off. There was barely two minutes left before their world crumbled to dust forever.

"This is it, isn't it?" Roman asked, fear stricken and far from resembling brave or noble. Patton nodded fearfully. "Goodbye, everyone," he choked, recieving a tighter hug from the group and tearful goodbyes in return.

The walls began to crumble, an avalanche that should have been raucous and loud, but everything fell silent.

No noise was made by gasping breaths or falling bricks, and everything began to null.

Their world falling apart around them, they held eachother together in the dark, right until there was nothing.

Right to the bitter end.

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poormeowmeowcollector · 3 years

Text

We would name our children Jackie and Wilson

Relationship: Loki/Female Reader (Hozier did the gender first, don't @ me)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mourning, mental health, alcohol.

Summary: Your relationship reminds you of a nice soft song. But things are not always so sweet.

Notes: this is part of a somewhat Collab with @lucywrites02, her part is done and can be found here, read it to soften the pain. I would say that I'm terribly sorry for the pain ahead, but I'm not. Meaning of the song can be found here, I used it for reference

Read On AO3

So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes

Loki fights for a deep breath.

It's just your face, you idiot. What are you afraid of? This mean voice from the back of his head asks.

They manage to draw a shaky inhale and puff it out, finally opening his eyes and staring at the reflection.

But those hateful crimson eyes staring back is too much, even though they look at them behind tears.

"Maybe another day…" he sighs and wears the illusion again. But the bloodshot eyes stay, this time not because of the Jötunn form.

No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

For how long will you hide from the monster you are? This same voice asks in the dead of the night.

Once again, it's not mistaken.

"I can't walk amongst mortals like this. This illusion helps me avoid some of the staring," they respond. It's a beautiful lie, Loki almost believes it.

Still, it will break down. Like everything does.

This argument stays and torments him for the rest of the night.

Soul deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine / For reasons wretched and divine

Stark had suggested another night out on a bar. Loki usually declines, but comes to this one.

Soon enough, everyone is drunk and happy. Alcohol from Midgard is like a beverage for Æsir, and Loki can barely get tipsy. But Loki still decides to drink.

This period had some very successful missions, and the avengers are celebrating it by drinking. Little do they know that Loki drinks for a whole more different reasons…

She blows out of nowhere, a roman candle of the wild

It's late. Loki's surely past the tipsy phase, but still has control. So, they just sit on a bar and watch the others have fun.

"Would you mind some company?" you yell from a part of the crowd. Loki tries not to flinch, loud sounds do no good at him.

Then they see you, all smiling and beaming like a firework, drink in hand as you walk closer and point at a stool beside him.

They have to admit, you look ravishing.

"You're free to sit, if you want to," he smiles back and nods at the seat. You grin and slide there, placing your drink in the bar and having your attention to them.

"Are you not afraid someone might drug the drink?" Loki winders, eyes on the cocktail.

"Sitting beside an Avenger is safe enough, don't you think? And it's rubbish anyways, I probably won't finish it,"

Midgard has different communication patterns, and Loki's inability to catch up in time has made their silver tongue rusty and useless. But you make a conversation with him out of nowhere, like it's the most easy thing.

Laughing her way through my feeble disguise/ And Lord, she found me just in time

A few days later after the night out, the sparks of happiness you casted on Loki's heart have died out. But Thor insists that being out of the four walls of their chambers will do good to him, and Loki gives in. They wear an illusion to hide the mess that he is in and join Thor on their afternoon walk around for some food, mostly.

During the hours long conversation, you didn't mention that you work for Stark, in the Tower. They smile and call your name the sparks igniting inside his heart once again. It gets stronger when you give them this glowing smile and walk closer.

"Brother, will you mind if I get stolen for a moment?" he turns to Thor.

"Have fun, brother," he smiles before greeting you and leaving.

"You know, there's a nice coffee shop with a big tea collection, what do you think?" you beam, knowing it's an offer Loki cannot resist.

It's not far away, and truly a sweet little place, crammed between the offices. You order your drinks and settle on a table nearby. You give Loki the chair with the view on the passers by, sitting so you can only see them and the wall behind him.

"You didn't say you work for Stark," they hum, taking a testing sip of the dandelion tea that caught his attention.

"That's cause I work for the Avengers, technically, not Stark. Mission support agent, Romanov brought me here," you shrug one shoulder. Loki can't hide a smile, they always had a soft spot for humble warriors, for they're so rare on Asgard.

"Odd, I don't remember you in any field," he mutters.

"I haven't gone on a mission with you. I find it insulting for a God to be supported by someone who learned how to tie their shoelaces at age 12," you laugh. Loki doesn't share the enthusiasm for the 'joke'.

"You'll be the best support, if you ask me," they smile, and change the subject. And then, you throw this damned question.

"So, how are you doing?" you trail off.

"Just fine," he scoffs. You see through it like they're the worst liar ever.

"I know we're somewhere public, but you are allowed to be honest," your eyes scan him.

He takes a deep breath and makes an illusion of you and them just talking. Then, he lifts his own.

Your face stays almost unreadable as the green glow reveals the mess of them. Expect for the eyes that speak of sympathy.

Underneath the table, you cup his right hand, your thumb petting it. "If you want to, we can go somewhere more private. Your call,"

"Only you can see this. Don't worry, I'm not making a fool out of you," they laugh without humour, voice almost breaking. You now squeeze the hand.

"You'll have to actively try to make a fool out of me, your highness. It's your boundaries I'm worried about," the playful tone leaves you as you speak.

You've barely done anything, but Loki is already determined to kill for you.

Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done / I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young

"Forget it, I'm not doing it. It's stupid!" he tries hard not to yell at you.

"But it's going to be fun! Come on, you can cast an illusion if you're embarrassed. Didn't you have fun as a teen?" You grin, pleading for them to come.

Little do you know that the last question feels like a knife in the guts.

"No," he whispers.

"Okay then. I'll be there with Sam, you can pop up if you change your mind," you sigh. It takes some minutes for them to realise what you just said.

"Allow me to rephrase it. No, I didn't have fun as a teen, I had to prepare myself for the throne I wouldn't take. And… this park will do nothing but remind me what I've lost. I'm sorry but I can't come nor change my mind," he fights against tears as he talks, your eyes on them. You walk closer and cup one cheek, letting them rest their head.

"Society says that you must have certain experiences at certain time frames. It's wrong, especially for someone who will live for as long as you. There's always time to replace things you've lost, the question if if you'll do it or not,"

Loki gazes at you and takes a deep breath, in, holding it, and out. Almost like he's smoking the air.

"Fine. But don't force me to stay if it's too much," they smile weakly, but it's genuine.

"Have I ever forced you?" you grin and place your forehead against his. "And anything critical to your physical health doesn't count,"

They laugh before nodding a no, a small kiss being blown in your nose.

Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime / Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine

Out of all the things Loki expected his fallen heart to do, daydreaming was last on the list.

They're a realist, always have been.

But the image of him and you in a nice stone castle in the middle of the woods is too perfect to resist. How you two would wake up and sleep together, have no one and nothing to make you feel anything but bliss. The two Monarchs in your little kingdom of two residents

Norns, they haven't even talked to you about these feelings. And he's already scheming his retirement with you.

How are you doing this to them?

Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside / We'd sit back and watch the world go by

"That's it, Laufeyson," he's glaring at the mirror, one finger pointing at the glass, "no more lies. Fuck those illusions and games and just say the damned words!"

They sigh and run their fingers through the hair, testing if the smell of smoke is still in there, after five sessions with the shower. He has noticed that you don't like the smell, when you keep some distance on his bad days. And stinking on a moment like this is the least they want.

"Alright… into the battlefield…" he conjures his weapon, a bouquet of black irises, your favourite flowers. They finally teleport themselves on the field, outside your door.

Goal of the mission: be vulnerable.

He rings the bell, fixing his already perfect posture before you open the door. This smile they know and love so much is on your lips.

"You didn't have to! Come in," you exhale, beaming as you make space for him to walk in.

They call your name, the tone making your smile drop. "I have to tell you something I've been hiding from you for a while…" he sighs.

You nod, the agent face on. A green shimmer makes the flowers rest in a vase on the coffee table, Loki's hands now free to pick on each other.

"I appreciate your friendship, more than you can ever imagine. You're the only person who has reached out to me like this for eons. But, my heart has started to yearn for more. I've fallen for you, hard. And I can't keep the illusion anymore," they recite, eyes scanning your unreadable face. You stay dead serious, making Loki's nerves eat him up.

"Took you long enough," you grin and bring them down to a kiss.

It's nice and warm and slow, one devouring the other while also offering the best you can. Then, a salty taste makes you break the contact and cup Loki's face.

"Love, why are you crying?" you whisper, wiping away the thin paths the tears have crossed. He hasn't even noticed he's been crying.

"You can't imagine how happy you make me… I love you," they whisper.

You barely have time to say anything before he pulls you into the tightest hug possible, tears streaming down to your shirt and those three words coming out of their lips again and again like a prayer.

Loki has no idea how many lifetimes he washed off within just one hug, but a weight they never noticed they carried was gone when you break the embrace and stare deep into his now puffy eyes.

"I love you too,"

She's gonna save me, call me baby / Run her hands through my hair

"I'm telling you, you have to be more careful in the missions. Yes, you are a God, but don't be so reckless," you groan as you rinse them with water and try to remove the blood and dirt from their hair.

Just the right amount of strikes, and he now can't lift his hands enough to wash his own hair. If you weren't so good at it, they would refuse to stoop so low.

"It was supposed to be abandoned. How would I know that it wasn't? I'm a God, not a prophet," he sighs, holding his sides. Even talking is making their scattered ribs pierce him… "And I did call you to save my arse, that's the exact opposite of recklessness,"

"If you say so. But what will I do if one day my baby comes home with something more than a wretched ribcage?" you laugh.

They try to answer but both the pain and the pleasure from your fingers on his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo, are making his tongue a knot and his throat release one moan of pleasure after another.

She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily / Better yet, she wouldn't care

You walk through broken mirrors and scattered furniture, reached out to Loki, who's hiding their head between their knees.

You don't say anything, you just play with his hair. It's cold, much colder than usually. But you don't care.

"Leave, please. You'll get hurt," their voice is growly from the smoking but weak.

"Forget it. I'm not leaving you alone in this state," you declare matter–of–factly. A sound comes out of his throat, something between a chuckle and a cough.

They snap their head up, blue and scarred cheeks wet with tears and flaming red eyes with blue veins all over them drilling holes in you. "Do you dare say this in my true face? Declare that you care about a monster?" He spits, lips shaking as they try to hold back another crying fit.

You face stone, you grib his cheeks to stop them from breaking eye contact. "I am not leaving you alone like this, because I care about you and I love you. And, I don't give a fuck what others have made you think of yourself, you're anything but a monster," you keep your voice steady, trying to physically pin those words in his mind.

They sigh and lean against your hands, eyes closed and breaths slow as tears start rolling down his cheeks again. They turn to kiss your palm, now the rest of his body relaxing and hands bringing you close to a hug. "Thank you," they breathe out against you, the weakest of smiles forming slowly.

We'll steal a Lexus, be detectives / Ride 'round picking up clues

"Feet off or I'll chop them off and put them in the truck," you snap, eyes on the road as you try to find a place to park.

"Relax, it's not ours," Loki brushes off the threat. You sigh and park the car among some trees on the edge of the road, hoping no one will see it. He tries to mask it, like always, but you can see how the pain is making their features harsh.

"You can drop some spells, we're well hidden," you point out, watching as the pale skin starts melting and dark azure replaces it. Your skin crawls, you don't know if it's the cold or the awe. Loki breathes out, head resting back on the seat. "I didn't know the illusion is so painful," you think out loud.

"When running so low on rest, everything is painful. Now, where are those files…" they mutter and turn around, searching for the yellow case in the back seat. "Here. Do you have any idea?" he asks, giving you the file.

"I'll probably find something to milk. Now get that rest before you pass out on the field," you glare at them with that Look. He grins and nods before laying against the window, a thin layer of frost already forming.

Then, they start laughing.

"What's so funny?" you ask, not looking up from the report you're reading.

"Before I even talked to you, I had the honeymoon trip already planned in my brain, with too many versions to count. This wasn't even on the list," he straightens up and smiles. You laugh too.

"Well, it's not exactly as bad as you make it sound,"

"Norns, are your standards so low or are you so disappointed in me?" They raise one eyebrow.

"Neither, love. Now get rest before I have to knock you out," you smile through threatening him.

"Kinky, might try it later," they wink and lay back down, his breathing deepening some minutes afterwards.

We'll name our children Jackie and Wilson / Raise 'em on rhythm and blues

You're laying against them, smiling like an idiot as he runs a hand on your stomach and feeling this new anomaly.

"Are you sure?" you ask, watching a small wrinkle from between their brows.

"Yes. Two of them. Perhaps boys but I can't tell yet," he whispers, hand still resting there even though the spell is over.

"Twins… we will become parents," you smile, breathing out and laying against their shoulders.

Loki calls your name. You turn around and he rests his forehead against your own. "I love you so much, you know that? All three of you," they grin. You chuckle and close your eyes, accepting the kiss that's definitely coming.

"You know, we'll have to name them something," you point out after they break the kiss.

"Narfi and Vali," he's… quite fast on picking up the name.

"No way,"

"Why?"

You freeze. "It's silly…" you mutter.

They cup your face, glowing green eyes on yours. "It's bothering you,"

"It's the myth… how Narfi and Vali suffered in the myth because of your… because of Loki's mistakes… I don't want this to happen to the little guys," you sigh.

"Then, do you have to suggest another name while I'm trying to think of a second choice?" he smiles.

"It's even more silly," you giggle.

"At least it won't be your mythological dead kids,"

You take a deep breath. "Jackie and Wilson, from the song," you are ready to hear them laughing at you for the suggestion. But he just smiles.

"Jackie and Wilson…"

Cut clean from the dream that night, let my mind reset / Looking up from a cigarette, she's already left

Loki has no idea how long they've been staring blankly at the ashtray, the suit in front of him mocking him.

It's maybe the first time they're so hesitant about wearing all black.

It was supposed to be a small mission, nothing dangerous. You were supposed to be back, safe, within an hour.

You were supposed to raise your sons and retire in that castle in the middle of the forest.

Why was he so foolish to believe that he deserves a happy ending?

"You have to collect yourself. You have to say the farewell, a fucking thank you for all you've got from it, you coward!" they spit at the mirror opposite to them, hand tensing and breaking the cigarette in half.

A deep breath, in and out, a tight squeeze on the wedding ring hanging from his neck, and they stand up to put the damn suit on.

I start digging up the yard for what's left of me in our little vignette / For whatever poor soul is coming next

The funeral is over, the farewell has been said. But there's a small dinner coming afterwards.

Out of all the public appearances, this is by far the worse. Malevolence is something Loki has learned how to deal with a long time ago. But these eyes of pity are unbearable.

The strangers, probably reporters or Stark's acquaintances, coming to express their "condolences" are at least few enough to allow Loki to slip away to the bathroom.

He sits on the cold floor, this numbness drowning him. They hoped you had made it go away, but you just suppressed it. He wants to cry, to scream, to beg to whatever cruel Deity did this to bring you back. But their mind cannot give the order.

He takes your phone out, opening the music app and wearing your earphones. They press play on the last song you listened to, only to hear some familiar chords echo from the small device.

You were muttering this song all the time since you found out about the pregnancy, it's no wonder it's the last tune you listened to. But the upbringing melody of the song and the dark emptiness in Loki's heart are painfully opposite.

He sits there and listens to the whole song in silence, trying to milk some happiness out of it.

But they only manage to whisper along the last two lines, or an alteration of them. Just before he starts weeping at the tile floor until Thor finds him.

"We would name our children Jackie and Wilson, Raise 'em on rhythm and blues,"

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theangrycomet · 3 years

Photo

This was supposed to be an easy mission- get in the mad scientist’s lair, download files, maybe blow some stuff up, and get out.

They would have gotten away with it too if it hadn’t been for the final line of defense.

Who would have thought a villain of this caliber would have been so old school as to set up a trapdoor connected to his desk top?

“You know, I’m surprised the Bodegamen of all people sent such amateurs to infiltrate my place.” He mused, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense before walking back towards the computer. “I’m a little hurt actually.”

The Glowsticks were now, much to their fury, tied up. Hung up like meat in a butcher shop, they dangled by their feet. Glaring at him, they exchanged short, scheming looks as they fidgeted with the rope.

The villain in question lounged in his chair, ignoring them as he tried to figure out what the heck was going on with his computer. His intern was on the other end of the room on another computer, doing something likely malicious.

“Where’s Fink when you need her?” The villain mumbled, clicking around the screen as the three realized they were being IGNORED.

“Uh hello- heroes tied up and seemingly in a stitch?” Jordan drawled, eyebrow raised (or lowered? They were upside down after all). “This is your cue for an evil scheme monologue?”

“Dr. Feakins, help me out with this.”

“One second, sir.” Crossing the room, her heels snapped against the linoleum like a BB gun. Roman shuddered as she passed, a wave of nausea washed over his stomach.

“Okay seriously- who uses rope anymore!” Jordan griped, pulling at the taut twine to no avail. Even with her strength, she couldn’t beat it without leverage which she was tragically lacking.

All she earned for her efforts were a pair of chafed wrists. Casting a longing glance at her sword, her mouth twisted downwards- or rather, upwards- into a frown as she groaned. “Ugh- why didn’t dad let me have that knife gauntlet Bismuth made!”

“I told you- you should’ve asked your mom first.” Roman muttered half-heartedly. Ugh, the feeling wasn’t going away.

What was going on? He never got sick.

He bit his lip, staring suspiciously at the redhead now typing at the computer. Feakins... Where’d he hear that before?

Kaiden, per norm, was too busy analyzing their surroundings for quips, much less questions. He was focused on analyzing all that he saw within the recesses of the lab.He could just see the corners of his eyes narrowed as they flicked about, taking in everything and putting the pieces together.

Personally, he was wondering how his friend could even concentrate with the blood rush.

“A Gempiran weapon might have helped you escape this one.” The villain straightened up from his computer, now that Feakins was at the station.

He shrugged, smugly picking up the sword beside him.

“This is lovely craftsmanship.” Weighing it in his hand, he played with the balance.Taking a few playful swipes, his form wasn’t half bad. Jordan noted the signs of a rusty swordsman who’d let himself get out of practice.

“Too bad I’ll never see it in action.” He mused, threat thick in the air.

“Oh don’t worry Professor Venomous-” Thick brows furrowing, she smirked- oozing confidence. “I’ll make sure you get a close up when we kick your butt.”

“Uhuh.” Rolling his eyes, Venomous replaced the sword against the wall. “Let me guess, your little EVO friend’s gonna help you.”

Jordan glanced as well as she could at the jacketed hero. Though she couldn’t see a lot, what she could worried her.

A miserable grimace twisted across his significantly paler face. Sweat had broken across his brow and dripped into his hairline. Shaking like a leaf, he looked close to passing out.

An oddly familiar crooked grin stretch itself across the mans lips at Roman’s discomfort before he nodded to the intern, still working on the computer.

“Nice work, Feakins.”

“Always here to help, sir.” Came her chipper reply as she undid the damage of their flash drive.

Meandering over, he went to the third Glowstick, who had yet to break his silence during this little exchange. No complaints, no smart aleck remarks.

Just a mouth set in a flat line beneath (or really above) a pair of dark shades.

“Well you’ve been quiet,” he drawled, leaning on the the railing amused. Poking his chest, he watched the hero swing back and forth lazily. “Got any last words for me, blondie?”

Kaiden glared, glasses slipping up his nose.

And than he smirked, fang peeking of from his upper lip.

“Last words?” Raising an eyebrow, his head band shifted, loosening a bit. It didn’t help that his glasses were slipping with them, catching on the pink material. “Awfully bold for a snake as out of the game as yourself.”

Venomous scoffed, opening his mouth to make some sort of counter argument. And than he stopped.

Kaiden expected a sort of superior expression- like a cat might make after knocking your coffee mug onto your laptop. Instead, he looked…

Surprised?

Purple eyes blinked at each other, Kaiden’s narrowed in challenge as Venomous’ widened in revelation. Whipping his arm out, he snatched Kaiden’s glasses, knocking the headband loose. It headband fluttered indignantly to the floor.

“Wha- HEY!” Blinking at the abrupt change in lighting in clarity, he was soon squinting angrily at the big purple-grey blur before him. “Give those back!”

“Dude- did you just take his glasses?” Roman exclaimed, immediately regretting opening his mouth as Dr. Feakins approached. His stomach lurched as his body was slammed with a cold flash.

“Okay that’s just low!” Jordan instinctively reached for Kaiden’s spares in her pocket, only to be painfully reminded of the rope digging at her skin. “Ugh, jerk.”

Staring at Kaiden’s features- his proud nose, high cheekbones, set jaw- the more he looked the more everything screamed him. How had he not seen it immediately- it was all right there. Even the eyes were the same- though Kaiden’s were far more guarded than he were at this age.

The hero in question, was more than a little thrown off at the intensity of his gaze- lessened in the blur that was his less than exceptional vision.

Kaiden wasn’t going to lie; taking his glasses? Incredibly smart move on Venomous’ part. Now not only did the professor impede his sight, he also allowed himself to see where Kaiden was going to strike.

That is, if Venomous had that combat experience to follow the eye.

He wasn’t sure if the man did.

A small seed of doubt worried into his mind as a realization struck him. Normally between the his research, POW card knowledge, and the numerous stories told by his family and friends, Kaiden had a good idea of what to expect with any prominent villain.

But Professor Venomous?

He knew nothing about him, outside of no one willing to talk to him about the guy. Only what he had observed in the last 10 minutes. Unless he figured out a plan, they might be screwed.

Venomous broke into laughter, as though reading his mind, and startling the others.

“Oh this is RICH. You three aren’t supposed to be on this mission- does anyone even know you’re here?” He asked, amused.

“Of course they do.” Kaiden lied through his teeth.

“Liar.” Walking around him, he gestured with the captured shades. “KO would drop dead before sending you to me.”

KO? How did Venomous know to call him KO as opposed to Knock Out? What was his father’s name doing so flippantly in the villain’s mouth? Venomous said his Dad’s name with such casualness- most said it with nerves strung tight in their voice.

With Venomous, it was as though he knew his Dad personally...

“You won’t see the irony here,” Tilting his head, he leaned to the side to get a better view of Kaiden’s face, noting the little necklace dangling at his throat, balance precariously on his jaw. “-but I’m actually supposed to be having my anniversary dinner with my husband in a few hours so you three making an appearance is hilarious.”

“Oh congratulations!” Jordan beamed automatically before scowling. “Wait, no you have us hog tied!- I revoke my congratulations.”

“What irony?” Ignoring her, Kaiden twisted to face him- suspicion pinching his features before settling into a mask of indifference. “The only thing I see is a fuzzy purple raisen about to get his butt whooped.”

“Aw, the little hero making threats? I’m shaking in my boots.”

“You should be.” Venomous’ eyes lit up with intrigue as a volt of violet electricity sparked jaggedly down the teen’s arm.

Venomous leaned down in front of Kaiden with a wicked grin.

“Tell you what, sport. I’ll cut you and your little friends some slack. I’ll just skip to straight to the psychological and emotional torment today.”

“What?”

“You’re lieing.” Jordan said flatly.

“And pray tell-” Roman’s teeth chattered, as Freakins handed a remote to Venomous with out a word- still at the computer. “how exactly are you going to do that?”

“Easy. Shipping you back to the Plaza with out so much as a scratch on you and showing that you three aren’t even worth the time and effort of a bored villain well into his retirement to properly defeat.” he shrugged easily. “Not too flattering on a heroes image.

The two grimaced as Kaiden frowned.

That didn’t make any sense. Just a few minutes ago Kaiden was certain he’d do something. he’d be threatening them with experiments and dissections and the like. Stooping down to mere embarrassing teenagers before their peers? Sure, it was low and would send most other heroes-in-training’s self-confidence and egos spiraling down the drain.

But it was not exactly threatening.

There had to be another angle- what was it? What could PV possibly gain by letting them go?

Kaiden frowned as the nauseating presence of the intern finally got to the EVO.

“Roman?!” The two were sidetracked as Roman heaved. Shuddering, he coughed as his throat burned with bile.

“You okay?”

“I TOLD you snack machine sushi was a bad idea!”

Venomous rolled his eyes as he pressed a button on the remote.

“Ugh it’s in my sinuses!”

“Aw buddy-”

“AAH!”

A large Box rose from the floor and opened up beneath them. The ropes were cut and they fell screaming into it- lid snapping tight behind them.

The Box was still for a moment before it writhed back and forth with the Glowsticks outrage. He could just here Kaiden’s shouts above the others.

“Fight me Venomous!”

A smile tugged at his mouth as the portal opened beneath the Box, sucking it away to be delivered at the Plaza.

Watching them disappear, Venomous leaned back on the railing, pondering.

#CN Gen 2 #Ok KO Let's be Heroes #Ok KO #Professor Venomous #Kaiden Kincaid #Generator Rex #Roman Salazar #Felicity Feakins #Steven Universe #Jordan Universe #OC Lore #AU Lore #TheAngryComet ART #TheAngryComet Writes #Posting here beacuse my Ask's never seem to show up in the tags

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destielshippingnews · 3 years

Text

Edvard's Supernatural Rewatch & Review: 1x04 Phantom Traveler

In this week’s analysis, I’ll be discussing the unfortunate introduction of Abrahamic mythology, the lamentable gender politics of Dean in his nightwear, and magic languages.

Supernatural’s fourth offering, 1x04 Phantom Traveler, (not a misspelling, 'traveller' is spelt like that in America) is a solid episode. It’s not fantastic, and Supernatural certainly has better to offer, but it’s still an entertaining watch which introduces demons into the Supernatural universe and continues developing Dean and Sam’s characters, making them more distinct.

It is also the first episode Robert Singer directed for Supernatural. I didn’t see much to particularly comment on in the direction for this episode (my two years of Media Studies were not wasted on me at all), but one interesting choice, however, is the tracking shot of Dean’s sleeping form straight after the title card. EscapingPurgatory podcast had a shrewd postulation: the intended audience was heterosexual educated men between the ages of roughly 15 and 39, but a lot of them would be watching with their girlfriends and wives etc, and Dean is the brother who’s available at the moment.

Returning to the plot of the show, the script does itself a major disservice as early as the cold open. This episode was broadcast in America four years after 9/11 (almost four and a half in Britain) and was right in the middle of the decades-long and still ongoing war on drugs. The atmosphere surrounding airfare has changed fundamentally. The air hostess clearly saw the man’s black eyes and was affected by it, and should have alerted somebody on the plane to her worries, because she would have thought he was on drugs of some variety at the very least, and possibly smuggling drugs on the plane. However, for the purposes of the plot she does not act on her misgivings, but simply gasps and goes about her day.

This raises the question of why the demon revealed its presence like that. Demons are usually incredibly stupid on Supernatural, but this level of dumb is difficult for me to believe. The air hostess could have very easily had the man thrown off the aeroplane, and then its plan would be scuppered. The most likely reason was to show the audience that the man was possessed, but the audience was going to find that out in about a minute’s time anyway, so why reveal it there? It breaks the fourth wall in a bad way.

Whilst on the aeroplane and the demon’s plan, the episode never makes the demon’s motivations explicit. Sure, Sam claims that demons like death and destruction for their own sake, but this doesn’t fit well with how demons behave later in the show. They are, forsooth, as thick as poo, but they usually have higher ups telling them what to do. Was the demon’s repeated downing of aeroplanes part of a higher up’s plan?

Before I go on, it’s worthwhile mentioning that this episode is the first one to introduce the idea of an actual Abrahamic Hell in the Supernatural universe. It’s not the only genre show of its kind to have included something like this, with Charmed having the Underworld where the Source of All Evil resided, and Buffy having various Hell dimensions, but those two examples weren’t Hell as depicted in the Bible.

Joss Whedon specifically avoided the idea of a Hell and employed dimensions ruled by demons and demon gods rather than Archangel Lucifer. Charmed used the Underworld as an equivalent of Hell, but it was not a place of punishment for human souls. While Charmed is definitely my least favourite fantasy/horror/sci-fi genre show (Prue notwithstanding), I appreciated that it took a step away from Abrahamic mythology. Buffy/Angel were even better, having their own mythology that had precious little to do with Middle Eastern religions and more to do with Dunsany, Lovecraft or sometimes even Tolkien.

Kripke, however, took the lazy route with Abrahamic, specifically Christian, mythology, a choice which I believe was to the show’s detriment. It’s supposed to be a show about American folklore and urban legends, but that stuff eventually gets thrown under the bus. Forget Native Americans, screw the Americanised versions of Scandiwegian lore, screw the Old West and the Gold Rush and all the tales revolving around America’s history. And Canada? Pfft. What even is Canada? And don’t even think about Mexico. Let’s just have yet more desert myths from 2-3000 years ago.

My distaste aside, this universe has a Hell (and a Heaven), and demons are made by torturing humans until all humanity is gone from them, or by letting the humans off the torture rack if they agree to become the torturers.

Knowing this, two possibilities come to mind. One is that this demon is repeating its own human death for some reason, and another is that it kills people and drags their souls to Hell to make more demons.

Repeating its own death is entirely speculative, but this episode mixes up demons with traits later associated with ghosts and death echoes. Never again is an EMF reader used to detect demonic activity, and unless I’ve forgotten a certain example, demons aren’t shown to act as specifically as this again.

The second option, that of dragging souls to Hell, doesn’t seem likely as it’s made clear that demon deals or trades are required in order for Hell to get its claws on human souls, at least in usual circumstances. There’s nothing saying that demons can’t just decide to drag certain souls to Hell, and there is an implication at the end of this episode that this might actually be the case, but it’s a stretch. If this were the case, however, it would give the demon a real motive and make the episode less of a stand-alone bit of fun with overt X-Files vibes.

Sticking with Hell events on the aeroplane for now, let’s skip to the end and the exorcism. Whilst trying to exorcise the demon, it tells Sam that Jessica is burning in Hell. Dean tries to reassure Sam by saying that demons read minds and that it was trying to get to him, but demons can only know the minds of people they possess. This then leaves three options: the demon was lying and Jess is in Heaven, it was telling the truth and Jess is in Hell, or the demon was just trying to get to Sam, but unbeknownst to him Jess actually was in Hell.

Technically speaking, Jess shouldn’t be in Hell. She didn’t make a deal (that we know of) and it’s established later in the show that most people go to Heaven anyway. But Kevin didn’t, neither did Eileen or Bobby. Mary did, even though she made a deal with Azazel, and she died under the same circumstances as Jess. As Jess is never mentioned as being in Hell by another demon in the show, and as Dean, Sam and Cas eventually visit Hell and find nothing of her there, we can assume Jessica went to Heaven.

The exorcism in this episode is strange compared to exorcisms in the rest of the show. The Doyle (external to the text) explanation is clearly that the writers didn’t know exactly how they wanted things to work yet, but the Watson (within the text) explanation could be that they used a different exorcism ritual. Later in the show, there is no intermediate stage between being expelled from the host body and being banished to Hell: they just go directly down. This version, though, forces the demon to manifest and thereby makes it much stronger and more dangerous. I personally think the version in this episode makes the demons more of a threat because it’s harder to exorcise them, but I can see why it became streamlined later in the show.

The fact the demon possessed the aeroplane, however, raises the question of why it didn’t do so in the first place. Maybe it’s more fun to possess a human first.

Speaking of the ritual, Jared tells us on the commentary that he had to have a Latin teacher from a local university instruct him in Ecclesiastical Latin because he learnt Classical Latin at school. As a language person, I’m left wondering why. It’s the same language, just pronounced differently. Does the spell need to be pronounced in a certain way in order to work? If so, would the Ancient Romans have been completely incapable of expelling demons with their own language? Would they have had to rely on Greek, Etruscan, Gaulish or Sumerian for the rituals? It’s just completely unnecessary, especially as we later see Rowena casting spells in Scottish Gaelic, Irish witches casting spells in Irish, Celtic ‛demons’ performing rituals in Gaulish…

At least the university teacher got a little bit of extra money, I suppose.

Sticking with the aeroplane a little bit longer, Dean’s fear of flying is a welcome expansion to his character, though it was clearly included with the intent of making fun of him. It could easily have been played as such, but Jensen’s comments on the commentary indicate he saw it as an opportunity to provide more depth to Dean, as his connection with Lucas through their shared childhood trauma did in 1x03 Dead in the Water. In these two episodes, Jensen begins taking Dean away from the writers and making him his own: he was supposed to be the sidekick, but Jensen said nope.

In making Dean afraid of flying, but having him so insistent upon flying in spite of it, The Show perhaps did itself a bit of a disservice in its mission of making Sam The Hero and Dean The Sidekick. Dean was terrified, but flew anyway. That is bravery, and it’s what the audience wants to see in a hero.

Sam, however, does not miss an opportunity to make me dislike him (you knew this was coming at some point, don’t look surprised). Not only is he incredibly unappreciative and derisive of Dean’s talents, such as making his own EMF from an old Walkman, but he was also derisive of Dean’s fear of flying.

Sorry, let me reword that. Derisive of Dean for being scared of flying. It’s perfectly rational to be afraid of being in a giant metal bird suspended miles above the ground, but Dean agreed to it anyway in order to save people. And Sam treats him like a child because he’s scared of take-off and turbulence. Dean’s fear is a rational one, something that a person who hasn’t been sheltered from reality would have. Sam’s greatest fear, however, is…

Clowns.

I get it, they’re brothers, and siblings are supposed to rib on each other like this (the siblings I still talk to aren’t like this with me or each other, so I find it difficult to relate to Dean and Sam’s relationship) but it makes Sam come across as an utter cunny-hole. If somebody is clearly terrified of something and on the edge of a panic attack, you don’t sneer and mock, and then demand he calm down. Sure, Dean needed to calm down and Sam was the only one who could do it, but talking to him like a child just reveals how little Sam knows of taking care of other people. He’s the pampered younger brother, and it really shows.

He also shows a lack of judgement when roughly putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder while he was distracted. Dean’s essentially a war child (and suffers C-PTSD) and you just shouldn’t do things like this to somebody like that. That’s how you trigger panic attacks or flashbacks. Ask a veteran, I’m sure s/he’ll agree.

Aside from that, the middle-aged man on the aeroplane winked at Dean – winked – when Dean was walking down the aisle with his EMF reader. A man winking at a man has sexual overtones nowadays, and has done for a long time. How many men wink at a built guy standing over them like that unless they’re sure they won’t be punched in the face? Dean had his EMF reader out at that moment, but he was simultaneously on somebody else’s radar. Something about Dean set sexual bells ringing in cameo middle-aged man’s head. Regarding Sam, there’s two important moments for him in this episode (Jess aside): when he discovers John talked about and praised him in his absence, and when he exorcises the demon. It’s made clear in a few episodes’ time that Sam never felt like he fit in with his family, and that he believed John was disappointed in him. Exactly how he came to this conclusion is uncertain, since John doted on Sam and afforded him liberties he never would have allowed Dean, but it’s clear their relationship is difficult. Going away to university was Sam’s attempt to run away from the dysfunctional family he felt an outsider in and to escape John (and Dean): that he apparently didn’t speak to either John or Dean during his time there says a lot.

He finds out, however, that John praised him, undermining somewhat Sam’s belief that John regarded him as a disappointment. Episode 1x05 Bloody Mary provides another moment of character growth for Sam that subtly changes the way he perceives himself, but all in due course.

Praise from parents is important for children, and it really shouldn’t be hard for parents to tell their children they’re proud of them, even if they don’t say it in as many words. In spite of his difficult relationship with John, Sam gets that by proxy in this episode (whilst Dean’s happily checking out all the men in the hangar) and it changes the way he sees himself and John, even if only slightly.

The other moment – discussed above – is his exorcism of the demon. I don’t mince my words about disliking Sam, but even I can see he had potential. He’s the weird kid who wanted a normal life, but because of cursed blood had that hope denied him. Series 4 shows us the beginning of what Sam could have turned into when his blood magic arc truly kicks off, and it could have been a riveting plotline if written and handled well. Think for example of Willow in Buffy and the journey she went on with her magic powers: there was real darkness in there, and a gargantuan struggle to overcome it and become stronger.

This exorcism reminds me of Willow’s first steps at witchcraft in 2x22 when she casts the spell to restore a certain character’s soul and we see the potential for true strength as she performs the spell with ease. This exorcism of Sam’s should have been something similar, and his demonic powers should not have been completely removed and forgotten about in 8x23. He could have been Supernatural’s answer to Willow, and the Dark!Sam arc in series 3-7 could have been the first in his descent into darkness and his fight back out to take control of his own powers and become the opposite of what Azazel wanted him to be.

But – and not for the last time – three words come to mind. Such potential, Supernatural.

You might remember I mentioned the tracking shot of Dean (and neglected to mention the revealing shot of his thighs and underwear). Paula R. Stiles’ suggestion that the fact the writers and director for this episode were men doesn’t cheapen it is one I don’t understand. Jensen is in my 100% objective and unbiased opinion one of the finest men alive, but exploiting that in order to draw in an audience does cheapen the show.

To be fair, Supernatural is hardly high culture and commercial television is about revenue, but things like that break the illusion of artistic integrity, just like not making Dean explicitly bisexual does because that’d scare away too much of the audience. If having scantily-clad women in a show or film is there for the male gaze and drawing in money, then so too are Dean’s thighs and buttocks, similarly cheapening the show. If the male gaze objectifies women, stripping them of their power and subjecting them to male desires, then the female gaze objectifies and strips men of any power they might have and subjects them to female desires.

If it’s bad for the gander, it should also be bad for the goose.

Neither do I think it matters one bit that the writer and director are men, or am I supposed to believe a woman has never encouraged or coerced another woman to flash a bit of boob in order to get men to empty their pockets? Claiming that presenting a person as an object of possible sexual attraction turns him into an ‛object’ is strange, and that claim’s only ever made when women are being presented for men’s enjoyment.

But let’s stick to Supernatural because I have work in the morning. To be honest, I never notice if a woman on screen is being subjected to a ‛male’ gaze because I have no sexual or romantic interest in women whatsoever: if a woman is supposed to be portrayed as appealing to men’s eyes, it’ll usually go straight over my head because it just doesn’t register as having anything to do with sex. Interesting, however, is that this begins the trend of treating Dean in certain ways that women are usually treated, or associating him with ‛feminine’ traits.

Some people go overboard with for example Dean’s association with and likeness to Mary, his taking on the parental (maternal?) role in Sam’s upbringing, his knack with children etc, and use it as evidence to suggest that any traditionally masculine behaviour – or masculine behaviour at all – from Dean is a performance to keep up an act so that he can hide how feminine he really is.

My take on this is quite different than the condescending viewpoint that a man behaving like a man is performing and pretending. Dean’s ‛feminine’ traits are not his ‛true’ self in opposition to his feigned masculine behaviour. There is absolutely no contradiction between Dean exhibiting ‛feminine’ traits such as being good with children, cooking, or trying his hardest to fill the role Mary would have filled, and being a masculine man who identifies very strongly with being male.

I do think it’s fascinating, though, and the complexity and depth of Dean as a male character is one of the reasons he is one of my favourite characters. We rarely get to see men who are very manly and also incredibly loving, loyal and paternal and who exhibit a normal range of human behaviours and interests, including ‛masculine’ and ‛feminine’. That’s what normal men are like, something television and film seem to have forgotten.

Regarding Dean in bed, note that he is a stomach sleeper (sleeping on your stomach keeps your tummy safe), and this is consistent throughout all fifteen years of the show. However, this early in the show he takes his trousers, outer shirts and shoes off, in contrast to sleeping fully dressed as he begins doing sometime rather soon. He’s alert and cautious this early in the show, but not yet quite so worn down that he can’t be bothered to get ready for bed.

Note also that both brothers have sleeping problems here. Dean knew Sam was still up at 3am, meaning Dean likely slept for less than three hours, having been woken up by Sam at 5:45.

The end of the episode presents the brothers with something to be hopeful about. John has a new mobile phone number, the first evidence they’ve had so far that he is very probably still alive. It’s not much to go on, and John does not answer Dean and Sam’s call, but it’s something the boys can latch on to and keep them searching for John. Whether or not they should be searching for John is another question altogether, though, but at least it got the plot going in 1x01.,

Phantom Traveler is a strong but flawed episode which builds on last week’s expansion of Dean’s character and role, as well as introducing demons and Hell into the lore. The cut scene where Dean has to remove all his concealed weapons before going into the airport really should have been kept in because it says a lot about his character, as does his sleeping with a blade under his pillow, but other than that, I’m happy to leave this episode now on a positive note.

#Michael's Supernatural Rewatch #SPN Rewatch #spn 1x04 #phantom traveler #sam winchester #john winchester #dean winchester #demons #hell #male gaze #female gaze #christian mythology

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mimssides · 3 years

Text

Never Met You

Chapter 10: Revelation

Things will reveal themselves in the least expected moments. They will be there when they are most needed.

“We still have no clue for where as to start with our investigation,” Virgil sighed and put the letter opener back on Janus’s desk.

Janus sat on the chair behind it, while Roman paced around the room and Logan sat on the armchair in the corner of the room. Roman was muttering silent curses under his breath and Janus watched him closely. They had been sitting together for a few hours. He and Logan had retold over and over again how they had met Green but nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day, except for Green’s arrival, of course. The day before was also quite unremarkable to the point of both Logan and Janus not having anything important to say about it.

“I am aware Virgil,” Logan said and scratched his eyebrow as he looked over to the window. It had the view to the inner courtyard, where the makeshift medic tents had been put up. “But there is nothing else I can tell you. We didn’t learn anything about his background from himself, so we have to reconstruct who he might be from the things we have seen ourselves.”

“Well, we know that he had a partner. Possibly, a husband.”

Janus, Logan and Roman stared at Virgil, who took the letter opener in his hands once more and fiddled with the blade.

“A husband?” Logan asked with a shivering voice.

Virgil glanced over to him and nodded.

“Yes. He mentioned him. No details but that one existed. I assumed he… He never mentioned this to you?”

Logan shook his head and stared down at his left hand. Did he imagine it or was there a band of lighter skin around his middle finger? He blinked and the image was gone, the skin just as brown as the rest of his hand.

A loud stomp almost shook Logan out of his chair and he looked over to Roman who stood with his back turned to them. His hands were balled into fists. For the first time Logan noticed how broad Roman’s shoulders were now that they were held with tension.

Dramatically, Roman turned around and glared at the others as he announced: “We know him! We know him and he obviously knows us! He knew how to calm me down, he knows exactly how to get on J’s nerves, he knows what all of Vee’s nods mean and he knows everything what you think Lo! And so do you! You just throw each other a look and it’s clear! You just know and it’s like it’s all we should need to know in order to figure out who he is but there is something preventing us to make the last connection and it’s driving me mad!”

“I can see that Roman,” Janus said and vaguely motioned against Roman’s hands, “but what are we supposed to do? We have nothing to go off and-”

“He knew where about the panic room. He brought me there. He knew it was safe. He knows the castle; he knew the courtyard but he was no servant. And we can’t remember it because of a curse.”

With that Janus stood up. His brows were furrowed deeply and his lips were pulled into a harsh snarl. Roman growled at the expression and pressed his hands against the side of his head while shaking it vehemently.

“You can’t deny this anymore! It has to be a cruse!”

“Don’t lightly talk about magic, which has been used to eradicate my ancestors. The only ones who would dare to use such powers would be the unnamed and she hasn’t been here since months before Green’s appearance!” Janus hissed.

Roman wasn’t affected by Janus’s anger. In the contrary, he seemed to get even more worked up and turned away towards the door.

“Come on Janus,” Roman said as he gripped the door handle, “this thing is affecting me. Which means it had to be her. No other magic is strong enough to do so.”

Roman pressed the handle down and left the room. Immediately Janus went after him and both Logan and Virgil followed rather confused about what the two had just talked about. They watched Janus getting next to Roman and how he opened his mouth to chide the prince but stopped. His expression changed and he silently kept walking next to Roman who steered towards the backroom in the servants’ wing.

Nobody said anything when Roman opened the door and entered. Nobody made a noise when Roman paced around the room for a few minutes. They just came inside and Virgil closed the door as he was the last one to enter and waited with the others for Roman to get a grip on himself again. He watched his partner walk in circles and eventually stop in front of the wall opposite of the door. He was staring at it and Virgil exchanged a worried look with Janus.

“Ro?” Virgil began cautiously and walked up to him. “I know you wanna solve this but there is nothing in this room. He has been inside here only once; we won’t find any clue here.”

Roman stepped closer towards the wall and put his hand on one of the stones.

“This wall opens.”

“What?”

Perplexed Virgil stepped back. Frantically Roman moved a chest to the side and again put his hand on the same stone as before and pushed down on it. A low creaking sound. The wall slid aside and opened a passage into a dark tunnel.

For a moment four men just stared inside. Then the prince went inwards unbothered by the dark, his eyes adjusting effortlessly and taking on a red colour. His ears were taking in every sound, he knew immediately that the light steps just behind him belonged to Janus, that the heftier but muted ones were Virgil’s and that the hasted loud ones were Logan’s at the end of the group.

“Roman, where are we going! We can’t see!”

Janus had grabbed his arm and Roman halted. He turned and looked down to his friend. In his head something was revolting. Revolting and trying to get his memories back but it wasn’t working right. Instead, he turned to the side and gripped a torch which had been placed in a torch holder. He didn’t question why he knew exactly where the holder was or why it was hanging rather low but just took it and rubbed the top of it against his palm, flame enlighten immediately. He held the torch up over his head for a moment and looked back to the others before he resumed in walking down the tunnel.

There were crossings and other walls which slid aside when Roman pressed them. Nothing of it seemed unfamiliar to him and he knew that that alone should have freaked him out. Yet it didn’t and he followed the way he somehow knew he had to go. In his focus and the others’ worry none of them noticed that on several stones sat little coal drawings. They didn’t notice that there were little signatures beneath them, one from Roman and another they would not have been able to read, not because the language or scripture was different, but because their brain would refuse to put the letters together to a word.

They walked down into a dead end with a wooden door in the middle. Roman opened it, stepped inside with no hesitation and set the torch into a torch holder to his left as if he had done so a million times before.

As if he had done so before? Roman shook his head. The others entered behind him but he just looked at the room. It was a square room, maybe ten feet long and wide, a worn-down couch was standing against the wall in front of him, a little shelf left to it, with books and pencils and coal sitting inside them. On the wall of the door, close to the torch, was an easel, a blank canvas sitting on it.

“I have been here,” Roman mumbled.

He hadn’t noticed how Janus had stepped to his side and flinched when he said: “I would hope so! Leading us through a tunnel system you didn’t know anything about wouldn’t be something I approve of. Also, when have you even found these tunnels? Why am I not aware of them?”

Roman didn’t respond. His eyes had deviated to the wall to the right and his breath was stuck in his throat. Silently, he walked towards it. Walked to the wall with a portrait hanging on it. With a family portrait. Oil pastels. Vibrant colours and strong gradients, which made the four people in it look like they would come alive any second now.

Janus inhaled sharply as he saw it. Virgil’s eyes went wide. Logan gasped and leaned against the wall.

In the portrait they saw a man with light brown skin, short brown locks, eerily green eyes, and a well-kept beard standing next to a woman with slightly darker skin, dark brown hair in a beautiful bun, brown eyes and in front of them two boys, looking identical with brown skin, dark curls and eerily green eyes. They all were wearing regal clothing, man and woman wearing each a crown which hadn’t been worn in over two decades at this point.

It was a portrait of King Aneas, Queen Rhea, the young Prince Roman and…

“It’s him,” Roman choked out.

Janus shook his head and pressed his hand against his forehead: “No - how – we – how did we never see the resemblance? It- it can’t be! It can’t. It can’t?”

Roman’s head was pulsating and he let himself fall back on the couch. Virgil was beside him immediately, holding his hand and trying to not think too much about what he was seeing right now. Janus kept staring at the picture, at the boy in front of Aneas, with the green tunic and the wide grin with so much more confidence than Roman’s.

And Logan pushed himself off the wall and slowly stepped towards the picture. He looked at the colours at the way they blended into each other and he recognized the technique. He saw the hand putting the colours down on the canvas in front of his inner eye. He saw the same hand holding coal and sketching him. He heard a voice telling him to sit naturally. Heard the voice asking him fondly teasing if he could draw a nude. And he heard himself say in a just as fond teasing way that he could if he could behave himself.

“He drew this. He used to draw me…” Logan whispered and he felt his memory slowly breaking free. “He draws things he sees in his nightmares and burns them. He moves so much in his sleep. He has almost threw me off the bed when we started sharing. He doesn’t like it when he has to sleep alone and he usually comes to check on me when I take a nap. He – he didn’t-”

Logan panted. The day before. The day before Green.

That day-

“He didn’t come check on me when I took a nap.”

***

“And there you are.”

██mus froze. It had been a normal day. He had spent the morning with Logan and had a meeting over the alliance talks with Janus after that. Lunch had been calm and nice, Logan had excused himself soon after dinner to take a nap because he felt a little tired. ██mus had taken the time to get back in his room and relax for a while. He had just wanted to go and check on his husband but got caught up in the view over the gardens, the rose maze, his home.

██mus gulped and turned around. His grin was maniacal as he stared into the glowing green eyes of the Dragon Witch.

“There I am!” ██mus cackled and looked her over with a wicked grin. “What has you come here to my humble chambers, Dragon Bitch?”

The creature scowled at the name. She stood far taller than ██mus, her greyish skin, the black flames miming hair and the deep red coat underlining how foreign and out of place she was amongst humans. She was a creature of nightmares and the underworld, her name a testament to the creatures she has eradicated.

“Don’t test me, child. You will pay for your arrogance!” she growled.

██mus grinned as sweat began to form on the back of his neck. It made no sense that she was here now. She was only allowed in the castle at certain times. Janus knew the schedule by heart and he would have been with ██mus at all time had one of her visits been close to come.

“Oh, will I?” ██mus hummed and wracked his brain for the reason why she would be here.

And the reason took his breath and smile. The creature saw his change and began to grin. She walked towards him, held her hand under his jaw and forced him to look up. He had to control himself to not snap for air.

“Who was stupid enough to make a deal with you?”

Her chuckle was wicked and her eyes glimmered with satisfaction.

“Oh, look at that,” she hummed and let her thumb stroke over his cheek. “Your father’s desperation and your mother’s rage. I didn’t think I would ever see such a delicious last expression ever again.”

██mus’s heart stopped. He grappled her wrist and pressed it down from his face.

“What did you just say?”

“Last expression, my dear,” she answered unimpressed and pulled her hand out of his grip and began to pace through the room. “I was ordered to kill the last demon blood in this kingdom. I am here to get rid of your treacherous family once and for all.”

“You killed our parents. You killed my father for making your powers ineffective everywhere but within our kingdom’s boarders.”

██mus was glaring at the Dragon Witch who simply raised an eyebrow.

“Oh child, you should know we can’t do anything against our own kind without a deal. Someone sent me. And someone sent me again to kill you. The last demon blood-”

Loud and hysteric cackling stopped her words. ██mus was overcome with grief. With disbelieve. His father who had decided to stop all the bloodshed his family had brought over these lands, his father who had never shed a single droplet of blood despite having hungered for it, his father who had been nothing but kind to his people and the other kingdoms had been assassinated for the blood he had been born with.

But there was also relief. Relief in the fact that contracts with demons had to be followed closely and ██mus knew that she had made a grave error.

“Already breaking down? I expected more of you, Thea,” she snapped at him.

He regained his composure and tilted his head to the side. With a smirk he began to match her pacing, both of them walking in circles around each other.

“Oh,” ██mus hummed, “I am not breaking down, dearest demon. I just think you might have made a deal you can’t fulfil here.”

“Why would that be?”

“Tell me what the contract is. Not the contractor, I know the rules.”

She hissed but complied: “’I, the Dragon Witch, shall end the life of the King of Theana, the last demon blood in the lands. I shall do so as brutally and cruelly as I please.’ They were almost kind this time; They didn’t even tell me to go for your lousy husband.”

██mus almost snapped at the comment over Logan but kept his anger to himself and simply huffed with a grin.

“Your deal is faulty. Because I may be King of Theana, but I am not the last demon blood.”

“What?”

██mus eyes glowed at her rage and he said ever so pleased: “It’s my brother.”

"̶̨̮̖̹̤̋̌͆̏̕̕W̶̘͓͋̿̽͜ĥ̸̠̤̬̮͇͖̻͓̓̅͛̇̄͒̂͘͜a̸͕͔̦̦̔̿̔́͑̃͌̚t̴̹̃͂̾̏̐̓̂͌!̴̳͖̬͙̝͕̈́̑͊͛͊̌͆̽̚?̴̨͍͕̥̦̪̣̔̐̈́̓́̐̚̚͜͠!̸̨̼͉̫̣̯̯͐"̴̗̬͈͚̞̼̙͓̑͜

The Dragon Witch screamed. ██mus jolted back, hands shooting up in front of him and eyes opened widely to see what she was going to do next. Angrily she threw her arms in the air, screeching and revolting under the revelation she just had and went straight forward for ██mus’s neck. He couldn’t do anything but choked as her fingers grappled him against the wall and she brought their faces close to each other.

"̷̳̩̼͚̲̥͙̩̪͐̈́̃̒̌̆Y̵͍̟̣͙̹̠̝̱̰̆̌̅̍̽̄͒̔̕ͅo̷̧̠̺̔͐͒̆̈̓͝u̴̢̧͖͒̒̎̇̔̾ ̷̖̟̤̲̯͕́͆̒ͅs̸̡͈̦̲̞͕̖̙̤̎͊ͅp̴̬͛̐̎͒̌̕ǎ̴̪̘̼̘̲̗͍́n̵̡̺̪̲̬͂̈̀͒͌̽̕ ̶̫͙̗͍̯͉̍̄̉̓̊̋o̷̖͗̉̏̇ḟ̷̢͇͚͍̹̗̮͚̳̬͒̍͊̒͆̂ ̶̣̣̂͊̇̑̓͒̂t̵̫̩͓̪̥̞̠̥̩͊̋̀̉̿͌̉h̴̫̲̱͋̊̚a̵̙͍͔̥̼̮̹͖̞͑͝t̸͖̉̊̂̔̉̅̔̎̅̕ ̸̻̗̯̜͚̪̤̟͎̲͗́͂̄̕͝͝͠s̶̞͇̾̎t̶͕̥͌͋u̶̧̡͔̠̝̎͝͝p̸͖͋i̴̢̺̝̪͖̫͕̥͐̅ḑ̷̧̪̯̭̏̋̑̑̊̊̓̉̒ ̶̡̛̱̝͍̪̹͕̾̑̓̚͝w̸̧̜̮̰͔͕͕̄̏̑̄͝ò̷̪̩̳̈́̑̎̎̉͒̿̚m̶̧̳̳̫̺̈̈́̈̒a̸̫͓͈̗̦̱̥̽̽̎͛͝͝n̶͖͍͇̓͌̑̇͗̆̊̈́͂͠!̷̝͍͖͎̂ ̴̤̅Y̵̥̱̚ǫ̵̦̦̺͇̫̗̠͛̄̽́̏̉̄͐̍̌͜u̸͈̭̼̥͑̏̚ ̵̧̻̤̓͝ĉ̷͔̖͍̰̘̈́̎͆͜r̷̂̏̂̂̄ͅe̷̢͍̰͇̱̪̻̎̃ͅa̴̡̨͙̟̤̲͆̎͊͘͜͝ͅṫ̴̢̡̼̠̦̞̝̘ḯ̴̢͙͕͑̐̓o̶͎̗̱̘̞̾̎̂̈́͒͝͠͝͠n̴̡̢̮̟͚̩̩̦̽͌̓͗͊͝ ̵̨̨̭͘o̷̠͙̮̮͍̹̯̪̿̋̇̔͌͛̆͆̚f̵̢̪̱͖̥̬͕͈̎̈́͌̆̍̚͝ ̶͕̼̇̀̾̿̔̓̔f̷̮̝̮̟̮̦̔̀̄̇̎͗͘͝͝ơ̵̤̈́͂͐̈́̇̂̔́̓o̴̧͙̥̩̮̓̎͂͊̋͒͘͜l̷͕̳̞͌̄̍̃ị̶̯̈́̆̽͠s̸͚̥̗̝͎̲̖̖̦̟͆̄̓̓̔͝h̴̫̼͑̀̈́͋ ̷̢̪͆͆̌́͋̕l̸̨̧̙͇̱̖͚̠͒͑͂̒̽̽̐o̷̞͙͕̜̰̽͌͆̊̿̔̽͜͝v̵̞̳̜̝͎̅̇̌̾̓͘͜e̵͓̼̥̭̻̭̫͍͕̟̾̽͛͑̊̽̐͠!̸͔͈̘̪̟͓̮͒͂͛̃͆̽̔̏̈́̚ ̷̨̛̰͙̗̈́̄͝Y̶̫̝̩̰̼̬͚̣͌̏̇͐o̸̥͈̲̱͔͆̓̐̃͌̋̾̈͒̉ŭ̷̧̝̈́͐̊̐͘͠ ̸̩̦͚̰̼̖͝k̵̢͙͕̹̺̺͑̓̓͆ͅe̷̯̼͇̖̪̎̑͊͆͛͌̚͝ẻ̵̡̜̰̞͙͎͉͎͓͛̓̈̈́͆̚͠p̷̨̧͉͍͇̙͉̼̯̘̈́͗͋̔̈̂͒̆͠͝ ̴̼̘̏̏͆́̇͘̕͠m̸̨̲̱̻͖̮͇̝̃̉̈́̓͆̉͗̎̓͘e̴̮̗͚͎̬̻̳̋̓̾̀̒̀̍̿ ̴͍̲̙̬̪̮̺̮̈̍̿͜f̶̨͎̈́r̵̺̪͎̼̀̽̏̔o̶̭̼̟̼̻̥̓͐m̵̧̺̯̼̣̙̙̹̱͕̀̅ ̸̧̧͖͉̤͎͙͈̪̌́͌͂́̽̀̽ͅm̶̹̜̘͌̅y̴̡̰̘̣͇̳̯̦͊̌͐̓̿͂́̕͝͠ ̷̧̨̰̘̘͍̪̣̽̈̑̈́́ř̷̫͗̊̆ȅ̶̢̡͚̗͍͈̩̜͙́̽̒̒̽͌w̶̰͚̫̱̼͖̔͋̽̈́́̌͑ȧ̵̞̙̖̻̫͙̤͙̱̮͌ṙ̷̢͓̘̟͚̠̗̼͈̣̊̔̑͆d̸̥̫͙̂͑̈ ̴̧̛̼͓̹̠͔̳̇͂̉̅͌͘͜͜͜͝͠y̷̡̨̢̬̘̹̮̳̱͇͑̾à̶̡̙̝͂̎͊̔͒̀̃͝n̵̪͍̹̫̦͇̟̦̪̖̓̏̃̆͊̿͝d̷̺̘̯͔̱̬̫́̑͜ ̵̨̧͕̮̩̩̞̜̼͚̀̈́̇̂̿̈́͆͝͝y̴͕̜͈̙̆͜ơ̸̧͕̜̻̗͔̖̮̣̣̎͐̒͝u̸̡̼̖̰̇͌ ̴̢͎̘̳̗̈k̷̻̟̦͇͕͎̆̈́̈́̈́͆̕é̶͈͙̏̐̅e̴̢̪͖͇̻͔̥̻̼̓͘p̷̢̺͙̙̐͝ͅ ̸̡̲͎͕̜̳̘̩̙̄̅m̸̧̞̞͚̲͙̓̌̄͐e̷̲̪̜̤̗͕̍͂̉̈́̍̐͝͝ ̸̢̲͖̖̥͕̻̦͕̫̆f̷̧̙͉̭̲̮̗͙͒̇r̸̼͘ͅo̶͇̭̙̟̦͔͔̩͊̈͂̈́̀̓̓͝m̶͈̦͍̟̽͒̀͒͗͌̃͊̎ ̷̟̊̿̃͆͂͊͊m̷̻͕̠̺͓̟͒̎y̸̪͇͇̺̺̪͗̔ ̶̛͎̈́̓̋͂̊̓̕f̸̬̟̩̫͙̠̩̱͍̙͝r̸̳͇̩̱̘̝͓̲̘͂̓̾͊̌͛͑͜͝e̵̡̺̫̲̜͍̠̱̘̺͛̀͊͝͝e̴̪̦̠͙̱͕̗̋̍̄͑̇͝͠d̷̮͖̝̟̩̞̿͂̈̐̇̚ǒ̶̰̻̻̓̈͑̈́̒m̵̧̨͍̖̫̗͔̏ͅ!̵̨̖̲̎̓͗̅͒̚͠"̶̢͔̰̣͊̌͑̈́̆̐̈́͝ͅ

██mus yapped for air and she lessened her grip. He took a deep breath and grinned dangerously at her.

“Shitty being an incompetent demon bitch, huh? Couldn’t be me-”

She screamed right in his face, the breath smelling rotten and toxic as it hit his nostrils. A clicking sound got lost in the noise.

“Oh, I will make you pay, wrenched thing, you,” she whispered sweetly and ██mus felt his stomach turn. “I will kill the king with demon blood. He’s not next in line now, but he will be if you don’t exist, won’t he?”

“If you kill me-”

“No.”

Her voice was wicked and smooth. Sugar in a deadly dose.

“I won’t kill you. I will erase your existence from their minds. I will make your precious advisor, your best friend, forget you. I will make your people, your most treasured people, forget you. I will make your brother, your last living blood, forget you. I will make your husband, the only one who you ever dared to ask for his love, forget you. And you will suffer seeing them, knowing them and not being able to say a single word about it. You will see your brother die as a king he never wanted to be. And it will be all your fault.”

██mus’s eyes were wide with horror. From the words he just heard, from the realization he just, but mostly from the look Logan shot him over the creature’s shoulder. And his terror grew as Logan shouted in white rage: “Let go of him!”

She was faster as Logan charged forward. She lifted ██mus from the ground holding her fingers up to snap. Logan’s look changed. ██mus tried to reach his arm out for him but he was already too high up the ground.

It dawned them that it was too late.

“Logan!” ██mus cried.

“RE-”

Snap.

***

“REMUS!”

___

Link for AO3, Taglist, Masterlist, and next Chapters are in my first reblog!

#intrulogical #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #almost choking #curse #swearing #threats #distorted text #capslock #fantasy au #Never Met You #eir writes #please reblog

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