#not to sound unsympathetic but i just. is it really that hard to stay home. lol. no it isnt i know because i live it!!! for years!!!

[personal-blog243]

The struggle of being a more “extroverted” night owl raised by “introverted” morning people…

I know this is random but this is just a thought I had and I need to complain for a bit. I still hate that growing up my parents would never do ANYTHING in the evenings. My parents pretty much only do anything remotely “fun” on Fridays, and even then it would usually just be staying in with a rented movie or playing a boring game if anything. My parents would rarely if ever let me do anything on Saturday evenings because we had to wake up early to go to church the next morning 🙄. You can forget about doing anything on a school night. Even when we did things on Fridays sometimes my parents would spend most of the time complaining about how late it was by 7:30pm and we still couldn’t stay up later on Fridays even because Saturday is when we all had to do lots of chores and run lots of errands. Rise and shine gotta love that boomer Protestant work ethic! 🙄 my parents can’t go to a restaurant to eat because they spend the whole time bitching and whining and complaining about how they eat too much and how they think they are fat or how late it is. It’s just so hard to have fun and get them out and be social with them. I just associate them with work and waking up early and exhaustion.

Don’t get me wrong I was allowed to have sleepovers as a child on the weekends I’m just saying that generally speaking it sucks when you are an energetic kid who wants to do fun things but your parents are too old and tired to want to do anything. Even recently my parents refused to watch the superbowl with me. All I’m saying is that it sucks remembering being at home and wanting to sleep in but you can’t because your parents have a different circadian rhythm than you. My mom always encouraged me to be social as a kid, but it was hard because social activities never seemed to line up with her schedule. It really set me back socially.

Sorry this is just random blogging that I had to get off my chest about some childhood memories. Does anyone else relate to being a night owl raised by morning people?

For the record I fully understand that raising children is tiring and I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic to that.

[moseleyjules]

It's fair to say my head has been all over the place recently. I noticed yesterday the calendar by my desk still said October! Life's felt not so much like a rollercoaster but a car crash.

Objectively, nothing terrible has happened. A combination of a big change in my professional life combined with some bad health has just made November feel unnervingly disruptive to my otherwise rather sedate life.

At the beginning of the month I went on a trip. My oldest friend turned 40 (yes, I'm not far behind - argh!) and we went to Athens to celebrate, a group of six of us. It was a really lovely trip, lots to see and we all got on well.

Back home, at work I was finding it tough. It was never going to be completely smooth sailing diving into a new job when I'd been at my previous company for fourteen years and I was prepared for some ups and downs. But eight months in and there had been more downs than ups and I was frustrated in my attempts to make changes. I didn't fit in with the team on a personal level but my relationship with my manager seemed to be deteriorating, to the point I felt undermined and started to feel insecure about my own abilities. As much as I hated giving up on the projects I'd had in mind and on supporting the people I managed, in the end it came down to protecting my own mental health.

It was only ever a fixed term contract so on paper I had no obligation to stay long term but it was a good company and I did think about moving internally. But as it turned out, after shooting off an application for something that had caught my eye on LinkedIn, I ended up being interviewed for and offered a position at another firm. The role sounds good, the company has a great reputation, the benefits are great and my commute will be halved; so on paper, it's a no brainer.

Emotionally though, it's more complicated. I suppose you put so much of your time into your work that it's hard not to feel invested in it. Both in learning (in some cases, quite technical) processes and building relationships, it's taken time and effort and it's hard not to feel that's not been a waste now I'm walking away.

Then there was the inner crisis I felt over making a decision and informing my manager of my resignation. There are some ways in which I'm still embarrassingly emotionally immature and wanting everyone to think well of me all the time is definitely a flaw. I need to toughen up!

It didn't help that I was five or six weeks after my last B12 injection and was really noticing the neurological effects. I could write a list as long as my arm of all the symptoms of B12 deficiency and different ones affect me each time as my 'stores' of B12 begin to run low before each eight-weekly injection. Sometimes I start to slur my words, sometimes I have nerve issues or start to choke on drinks and I often get fatigue that makes getting out of bed excruciatingly difficult even after several hours' sleep. This time the brain fog aspect hit me hard.

At work, I was having some difficulty learning a technical process, which faced with colleagues who are rather unsympathetic towards mistakes was leaving me feeling almost distraught with feelings of inadequacy. I was mentally exhausted and felt like I was running on fumes.

With my head in this state, it made the decision to leave even more fraught. But once made, I began to look around at my situation and see things had fallen into place.

There's of course some apprehension over starting again but I now feel lucky and excited I'll be in a new role in the new year, just as I begin a new decade of my life as well.

As for my B12 deficiency, it's not possible on the NHS to get more frequent jabs (I'm lucky, often people only get it every 12 weeks). Some people source their own supplies but having long battled with a needle phobia, I've procrastinated over looking into it. Hopefully I can spur myself to do this and really have a fresh start in 2023.

[catboyfurina]

.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

This was originally a fake fic but I decided to turn it into a real fic because it looked like fun, The fake fic can be read as a prologue. 

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Chapter 1 

Previous (prologue)     Next Chapter 2

When Roman had first left home, he had no intention of making friends.

Romulus had never had them, unless you counted Remus in their younger days. Royal life was often one of seclusion and once his… particular problem… had come to light, his parents  took the necessary steps to ensure he was as isolated from others as possible.

This was for his own good. Romulus could not protect himself. Romulus was a liability to the himself and the Kingdom. One slip before a supposed playmate could lead to discovery and disaster. His father explained this to him when Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy when the family visited the palace.

“Suppose that boy notices,” his fathers voice was a hiss, his hand gripping Romulus small shoulder hard enough to bruise “suppose he realises you will do anything he asks, and he asks you for family secrets? Suppose he waits until your are older and orders you to favour his family, to give them position in court, to promote them above their deserved station- or to harm their enemies. Do you understand the risk you’re taking Romulus? Swear to me you will keep to yourself. Please.”

Phrasing, Romulus had come to learn, was extraordinarily important when dealing with his curse. The final ‘please’ from his father had turned the order into a request – something Romulus could technically choose to ignore. But the grip on his shoulder suggested it would not remain his choice for long. So he nodded at his father and swore to keep away and was rewarded with a smile and a hand stroking gently though his hair, before he was dismissed to go and study before his afternoon lessons.

He should have been lonely. But he had his parents and his instructors and his servants. And the occasional, highly orchestrated, public appearance wherein he would adopt a practiced air of aloof politeness, wave and make measured conversation with those who would never dare to give him an order. It could have been worse.

Still, he understood that once he left it would be necessary to speak to many more people then he had up to now. He would need food and shelter and work and direction, none of which he had had to procure for himself before.

So he prepared himself to make conversation with strangers, perhaps acquire acquaintances. He expected to find admirers once he was far South enough that he could perform with his lute without fear of recognition from the crowd. He hoped, perhaps, for some romances, some temporary but dashing companions to join him on adventures. He had read about such things during hours spent locked up in the palace library and told to entertain himself.  

He had not planned on making friends. Traveling with anyone for too long, getting to know them and allowing them to learn about him – it inevitably increased the chance of them discovering his secret. Of exploiting him as his parents had warned against. It was not worth the risk.

And yet.

And yet somehow, he had acquired three.

Virgil and Patton and Logan.

Brave and kind and wise.

Not a drop of aristocratic blood between them but without doubt the most noble companions a man could wish for. When he thought of them, of how they had accepted him into their little band of misfit adventurers, his heart felt more full, his mind more alive and sharp than it had been in years. His blood buzzed with creativity and songs of friendship, love and loyalty sprang from his lips almost unbidden.

Not right now however.

Right now sort of wanted to kill them. Specifically Virgil.

Roman scowled at the surrounding trees “If there are any depressingly dressed half elves out there who want to APPOLOGISE for being JERKS the floor is open!” he called.

The trees remained silent. They had done that the last three times he tried.

Roman left out a dramatic exhale and flopped back on the ground.

The thing was. He knew, intellectually, that this wasn’t Virgil’s fault. Not Intentionally.  

Virgil was prickly. And unpredictable. Last night, Roman had wailed in dismay at the sorry state for a fire the young man was building. Virgil had responded that they would be lucky if there was no fire at all, since that would mean no one would have to be subjected to Romans cooking. Roman had insulted Virgil’s hair. Virgil had made a creative suggestion for where Roman could stick the firewood he was holding.  And back and forth the insults went until between them they had built up the fire and set the stew boiling upon it.

It was banter. Virgil had been giggling the whole time, Patton hadn’t interjected once to tell them to be nicer.

And then this evening they’d gone hunting for firewood together. And Roman had made some sly remark, hoping that Virgil’s fire building skills had improved somewhat overnight.

And Virgil had turned round and snarled at him to “shut UP Princy. I don’t need you to help me – just, just get lost.”

Virgil didn’t know about the curse.

Romans mouth had dropped open in surprise. And before he’s had time to close it, his feet had spun round one hundred and eighty degrees and marched him away from his friend, away from the path, deeper into the heart of the forest.

His feat had carried him on a winding route, over one shallow stream and through an extremely dense thicket of brambles that left Roman desperately hacking away at the thorns in front of him before they could shred him to ribbons. He had eventually stopped after an hour of relentless marching and sprawled at the foot of an impressively knotted oak tree.

Unsurprisingly, his surroundings were totally unfamiliar. The trees grew so thick here it was impossible to see more than twelve feet in any direction. He was well and truly lost.

Roman had spent an unsatisfying few minutes ranting to the trees about elves and their unpredictable mood swings and marching and blisters and curses and Virgil’s still subpar fire lighting skills until eventually he had run out of steam and settled himself down for a good sulk.

Phrasing was important. Virgil had told him to get lost but he hadn’t said to stay lost. And now that he was lost, there was nothing to prevent him being found again.

Patton was an excellent tracker. The idea of sitting around waiting to be rescued stung Roman’s pride, but his feat had already been aching from the days travel before his unintended march. His stomach growled, the smattering of cuts from the brambles burned, and evening was already turning to night. The most sensible thing to do was for Roman to stay where he was and wait to be found.

Assuming they wanted to find him.

Roman bit his lip sharply to try and banish that line of thought. They wouldn’t leave him.

Although, he drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees to fend off the evening chill, There was a strong chance they wouldn’t find him tonight. Patton had looked exhausted when Virgil and Roman and left on their hunt for firewood, in fact he’d been falling behind all day and –

Oh.

Patton and Virgil were born in Krutova and Finaley’ed respectively. Two small neighbouring kingdoms, politically insignificant and famous only for their densely forested landscapes and their intense dedication to wiping each other off the face of the Earth. For the past eighteen years bloody war had raged between the two. Roman had never asked directly, but he was fairly certain that this  conflict was where Patton had acquired his enormous broadsword, his limp and, quite possibly, Virgil.

Neither of them liked forests. They carried extra tension as soon as they stood under the shadows of the trees. In addition to that, the uneven terrain aggravated Patton’s hip, sometimes leaving him hissing between his teeth with every step.

Roman had been walking up front with Logan all day, arguing the merits of modern Raspanzean poetry compared with the old masters. He had thought they had called a halt to the day a little early, but was tired enough himself not to question it. And really, since he and Virgil had been on fire and cooking duty last night it should have fallen to the others today…but Virgil had scampered into the woods as soon as Patton was settled on his bed roll, and Roman had gone chasing after.

Virgil fretted. He fretted after all of them, but Patton most of all. And Roman had chased after him when he was already stressed about his best friend and then started needling him about his fire making skills.

Roman groaned and pressed his face into his knees.

Maybe he was the jerk.

“It sounds like it.”

Roman sighed, hating the whine in his voice as he replied “but he still shouldn’t have taken it out on –“

Romans head snapped up so fast he hit his skull hard against the oak tree behind him. Wincing he twisted his head left and right, but the area remained deserted.

He frowned. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he thought –

“You certainly are over tired little Prince,” Roman made a sound which he refused to think of as a shriek  and scrambled to his feet.

Standing not three feet- two feet – five feet- three feet from him, stood – hovered - sat – stood a figure in – black – yellow- black – shadow – gold - black. He- she – it – he? Laughed sweetly and stepped – slunk – prowled – flew – stepped closer

And drew back abruptly as Roman held up his dagger between them.

Roman’s sword was the best he could buy, made of blended steel with a bronze handle. He cleaned and sharpened it religiously and practiced often. It was beautifully made and perfectly balanced, suitable for a solider but ideal for a traveller in who knew how to use it.

Romans dagger was old and brittle. And more than once Logan had tried to surreptitiously throw it out and convince him to replace it with something usable.

But it was made of pure iron and it kept the scowling fae at bay.

Looking directly at the fae made something in Romans stomach twist. But he kept his eyes at a squint and held the dagger firm between them, even as his arms shook from the effort.

“What do you want from me?” he gritted out

“What do I want?” The fae’s face would not quite settle, the edges shifting and billowing, but when he smiled Roman was certain he saw fangs “You’re the one trespassing in my home, little Prince, I should be asking you”

Suddenly the fae was as close as he could come, his face less than an inch from the daggers edge. Up close, Roman could see two eyes clearly, one black and one pulsating with a sickly yellow light. “Come to make a deal with the devil, Princey?”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut and held himself firm, even as the shaking began to spread over his entire body.

“I am. A. Lost. Traveller.” He gasped out “I. mean. No. disrespect. To you. Or. Your court” for what felt like an eternity the shaking continued, rattling his brain and sending one knee crashing to the floor. And then it stopped.

Hesitantly, Roman cracked one eye open and looked up. The fae had, mercifully, settled its form. It had picked a face identical to Romans own, save for the yellow eye and scales that spread over its left side. A cloak of shadows hid most of its body from view, but when it moved towards Roman now it seemed to slither rather than step.

“You mean no disrespect” it nodded towards the dagger still clutched in Roman’s sweaty hands “but your bring a weapon to my home?”

“it is a shield, my lord, not a sword, despite it’s shape”

The fae harrumphed, a disconcertingly human noise, and circled Roman once. “You’re not from around here.”

“I’m lost, my lord.”

“I know that” The fae stopped in front of Roman again and rolled it’s eyes. “I meant you are not one of the town folk who trespass in my wood so regularly. You know how to speak to me.”

Roman opened his mouth to say ‘in my fathers Kingdom the Fae are welcomed, and representatives of the Saelie court attend each ball and function’ but managed to snap it closed before he made a sound. Rule one for dealing with the Fae, even those considered allies, was not to give them any information that they didn’t already know. “You flatter me my lord” he said instead.

Roman still hadn’t moved from his half kneeling pose and now the fae coiled down so that they were once again face to face. “Most humans in your position” he said, “would have already started begging for a deal to relive them of their…little problems. What’s the matter Princey, curse got your tongue?”

Roman couldn’t help the way his heart rate sped up at the faes words. But he did his best to keep his outward face calm. It was true, the first deliberate order he had received when his curse was discovered was to never talk about it, he couldn’t have brought it up to this fae if he wanted to.

But more than that – the fae who allied themselves with his father’s court had done everything in their power to remove the curses from him and his brother. Nothing had worked. “A gift once given can only be taken back by the gifter” an elder sprite in the guise of a kindly woman had told his mother. “And their gifter is unlikely to return here.”

The gifter was also unlikely to be a snake shaped creature tied to a southern forest. “I want nothing from you my lord, except to be allowed to leave your home” Roman intoned honestly.  He had wondered, for a moment, when the creature had called him Princey – but Virgil and the others often called him by that nickname. If this was a lord of the forest he could have heard them  when they passed by.

The fae stared at him for a long moment. And smiled. “Liar.”

Roman frowned – “what-“

“Roman!”

Roman jerked his head to the side, the shout had come from close by, he was sure. “Pa-Padre?”

A whisper in his ear: “time to go home Roman.” Roman quickly looked back to the fae, but it was gone. On the ground where it had been, lay a single oak leaf dyed a brilliant, autumnal, yellow.

He didn’t need to look up at the oak trees leaves to know they, like every other tree in the forest, were still a vibrant green.

“Roman! Roman are you here?”

Without much conscious thought, he reached forward and snatched up the yellow leaf, burying it deep in his pocket.

“I’M HERE. Patton? Virgil? I’M OVER HERE”

Within minuets all seven foot of Patton was crashing through the tree line and baring down on him, Virgil not far behind.

“Roman, oh my goodness we were so worried! Are you hurt? Can you stand? Why do you have your dagger – did something happen?”

“Princy! Shit are you – are you okay? I am so, - I’m really- We looked EVERYWHERE“

“I’m fine.” Roman promised ‘Its fine’ he added to Virgil, “I just – I figured you needed some space so I tried looking for wood on the other side of camp. Guess I got a little turned around” He allowed Patton to pull him to his feet, giving them both his best sheepish grin. Embarrassed but ready to laugh at himself. He really had got lost. Silly Roman.

It’s not like he could tell them about the curse.

“We’re not the far from camp” Patton told him, he glanced around frowning slightly “I’m sure we searched through here before.”

“I was trying to make my own way back,” Roman lied easily “I probably ended up walking in a circle and missed you.”

It’s not like there was any point telling them about the fae.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine Pat, what about you? How’s your leg?”

“Oh this old thing?” Patton gave them a wide smile “it’s just fine, Ro, don’t you worry. Now I think I know a short cut back, you two follow close to me alright?” and with that the large man spun round and headed into the trees.

Virgil and Roman shared an exasperated glance. The man was clearly in agony.

“Listen, Princy I-“

“I’m sorry too.” Roman cut him off.  Bumped his shoulder against Virgil’s and winked. “Now lets get back to camp before Logan paces a trench in to the ground hm?”

Slowly Virgil nodded, although he was still staring at Roman guiltily. The two of them headed into the trees together, collected Patton from where he was half collapsed against an elm, and the three slowly made their way back to camp.

By the time they were explaining what had happened to Logan, the memory of the fae had faded like mist.

With a days more travel they would be out of the forest and on a path to Steveange. The largest and greatest city of the Central Kingdoms. From there they would have to chose whether to head east, towards the coast line, west to catch the merchant festivals or north, where Roman had always refused to travel.  

Stuck between two pages of Romans notebook, a unseasonably yellowed oak leaf shivered.

Time to go home.

[mykingdomforasong]

For the fan fiction trope mash up: skysolo and fake dating + sleep intimacy? 💕

A little while ago I wrote this ficlet about Han going to Luke's home for Christmas as his fake boyfriend. And I really liked it, so I'm going to continue it here. Although, you don't have to read that other one first to understand this one. I don't know what I'm doing writing a holiday fic in September when I don't even like Christmas, but here we are.

~*~*~

"We're going to the ten p.m Midnight Mass," Aunt Beru reminded them as Uncle Owen mixed four White Russians.

"What?" Han asked. It was the first he was hearing about Christmas Mass at all, and the phrase "ten p.m midnight" had left him even more confused.

Luke passed him his drink. "We go to church on Christmas Eve, but as the average age of the congregation starts to rise --"

"Watch it, Luke," Owen warmed him, a smile hidden behind the rim of his glass.

"-- they keep moving 'Midnight Mass' earlier." Han checked the time on his phone. It was only six. Plenty of time for the Lars family to work up a good pre-Mass buzz by his counting.

"Do I have to go?" Han asked.

"No," Luke said, "but if you don't go, you don't get presents." Luke's smirk was enough to convince Han that was a rule he'd just made up, until Beru said:

"Oh, Han doesn't have to follow that rule."

"Do I?" Luke asked hopefully.

"Of course you do," his aunt said. Han laughed at Luke, completely unsympathetic to his situation.

Two drinks later, Han was laying in Luke's childhood bed, watching him put on a button-up shirt and a red sweater. Luke's room was covered in old trophies and embarrassing photos of him from middle school that Han had already had his fill of making fun of.

Now, he was entertained enough by how proper Luke looked all dressed for church. Han tried to remember that he was the same messy gay who'd thrown up gin and tonics and glitter on the sidewalk during the last Pride parade, not the Sunday School teacher he was posing as.

"You look like you're trying to pray the gay away," Han said, watching Luke loop his belt around his hips.

Luke laughed. "Shut up," he said. "You should come with us."

Han laughed right back, and spent the next ten minutes insisting that he wasn't going while he, for the first time in his life, put on his Sunday's best.

~

"Look, I didn't want to say anything in front of your aunt and uncle," Han said when the door to Luke's room closed behind them, "but your god tastes terrible."

They shed their clothes quickly and climbed into bed. It was snug for the two of them. Han had been offered an air mattress or the couch if the bed was too small, but Han said they'd try it for at least a night. This was night two. The night before, they'd found that the bed was cozy. Small, but cozy. He didn't get to snuggle with people that often. And Luke was a very snuggly bed partner.

Before they'd headed upstairs, Aunt Beru had handed them both a box. "Christmas pajamas," she explained to Han. Luke didn't need an explanation, though, and was already tearing through the red and green paper.

They reveled matching sets of red and green flannel pajamas that Han was sure would get way too hot over night.

But as they cuddled closer together, resting Luke's laptop between them to end the night with a viewing of Elf, Han found himself aware that he wasn't too hot. He was just comfortable. Overwhelmingly comfortable for the second person in a bed made for one, on a mattress almost as old as Luke himself.

Han put an arm around Luke, letting him lean in closer to him. He thought they might fall asleep right away, but instead they stayed up through the whole thing, quoting parts at each other, or remembering past holidays.

"It's nice to have you here," Luke said towards the end of the movie.

"I'm happy to be here. You didn't tell me I'd be getting free pajamas and crackers out of the deal."

"The Lars family comes with its perks," Luke said.

"I might just have to join it," Han said.

Luke didn't take him seriously. "Oh yeah, how do you think you'll make that happen?" Luke said.

"Your uncle isn't going to live forever," Han said.

Luke didn't respond right away. Han worried for a second before Luke started to talk again.

"Han, I need to tell you something," he said, an uncomfortably serious tone to his voice.

"Yeah?"

Luke turned to face him. "You are, under no circumstances, allowed to have sex with my aunt."

Han laughed, and then Luke did too as Han promised.

They closed the laptop, switched off the light, and got under the covers. No matter how they laid, their bodies would touch, there just wasn't enough room for it to be any other way. So Han decided to do what he'd done the night before, and pull Luke in as his little spoon.

"You can be little spoon if you want," Luke offered.

Han liked the sound of that, letting Luke hold him through the night. But he suddenly felt too lazy to even roll himself over. "Maybe tomorrow," he said.

Maybe it should have felt weird, Han thought, for this to feel so natural. Maybe they were just perfect friends. Maybe it was weird, and Han just couldn't tell. But nothing about it felt wrong. He could feel Luke's heart beating under his hand, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of a single thing he'd change. Even the small size of the bed was a comfort. He'd wake up in the morning touching Luke somewhere, in pajamas his aunt bought him, and spend Christmas with his family. No, he thought, there wasn't a single thing he'd change.

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

The Quiet Game

Summary: When Patton comes to visit Janus, the twins play a game called the quiet game.

Pairings: Parental Janus, brotherly creativitwins (tag it as Rem/Rom and you’re blocked), past Moceit

CW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE, IMPLIED ABUSE, UNSYMPATHETIC!PATTON, MENTIONS OF DIVORCE, IMPLIED DIVORCE, YELLING.

(A/N: it’s ya bean. I haven’t written anything in a while. Sorry for any typos XD)

“Take that you foul Dukey!”

“You’ll never defeat me, Princey!”

Janus chuckles and watches his twins fondly. They’re only 8 but they’ve been through...a lot. It’s hard to see one without the other. Then again, Janus could never bring himself to separate them. Not even for a few moments. One would get upset and the other would cry. It’s quite heartbreaking to see one so broken without the other. Janus had fought hard to get them both away from their old home. And away from the monster that lived in it. He couldn’t bear to leave one. Not with...him. It’s been two years now since Janus left Patton. Since he took custody of the kids. It didn’t mean they were finally free though. Let’s just say Patton really misses his kiddos.

“Papa...Papa!”

Janus blinks out of his thoughts to see Roman staring up at him with wide curious eyes, his twin standing behind him and mirroring him. 

“Sorry, little prince. I was just thinking about something. Did you need something?” he asks, patting their heads.

“Yeah! Can you be the princess again? We need a damsel in distress!” Roman replies, holding up his plastic sword.

Janus sighs and smiles softly.

“I would love to, Roman, but Papa has to clean up around the house.” he says, ruffling their hair now.

The twins pouted.

“Aww, but we want you to play with us!” Remus whines.

“Yeah, Papa! You’ve been cleaning all day!” Roman chimes in.

Janus chuckles softly. Oh he just can’t resist his twins’ playfulness. 

“Alright but you have to pick up your toys first and bring them upstairs. All of them.” he says, gesturing to the living room where all the toys were scattered.

The twins lit up at that and nodded.

“Okay, Papa!” 

With that, the two ran off to go get started on grabbing their toys.

Meanwhile Janus smiles softly again and turns to continue cleaning, grabbing the broom he had set aside. While the twins put their toys away, Janus finished sweeping the living area and moved onto the kitchen. He dumped the dirt and dust into the kitchen trash can then he set aside the broom again. He grabbed the trash bag out of the trash can and headed for the front door. 

He stepped out of the little house he and the twins call home, making his way down the pathway. He dumped the trash in the big trash bin. Just as he shuts the lid, Janus hears the faint sound of a car coming from somewhere. He glances up and sees a familiar sky blue beetle car coming into view in the distance. 

Oh no.

Janus quickly returns to the house, shutting the door behind him. He heads to the living room and sees that it’s spotless. Huh. That was fast. Shaking his head, he looks over to see the twins running down the stairs with an eager look in their eyes. Janus hates to ruin this but...it was for their own safety. He comes over as the two reach the foot of the stairs.

“I’m glad you put your toys away, boys. I know you wanted me to play with you but we’re gonna have to do that later.” he says.

Roman tilts head and Remus pouts.

“But why, Papa?” Roman asks.

Janus looks over to the door then back to the twins.

“We’re gonna play the Quiet Game. You remember how to play?” he says.

The twins nod, a look in their eyes that hurts Janus to see. It just looks so wrong to see them so afraid like this. Like they would lose each other. The twins immediately cling to each other. They don’t like this game but Papa says it’s to keep the monster away so they play it. Anything to make the monster go away.

“We hide upstairs and we stay very quiet so the monster doesn’t find us. And then you come rescue us, Papa.” Roman recites.

Like Roman had said, whenever Patton or the ‘monster’ comes over, they have to hide upstairs in their bedroom and stay quiet until the ‘monster’ leaves or Janus says it safe.

Janus nods, giving them a small smile. 

“That’s right, little prince. And you also keep each other safe.” he says, getting two nods in return.

Janus glances at the door again before turning back to his twins.

“Okay, the monster is here. Go hide!” 

The twins nod and run upstairs hand in hand as Janus sighs. He hates this game as much as they do but it was for their own good. He hears their bedroom door click shut and he takes a deep breath. Then he heads over to the door. He nearly flinches as he suddenly hears a knock. Janus composes himself then opens the door.

“Oh, Janus! It’s so good to see you again!” 

There stands Patton. Patton and Janus had been husbands. Had. Ever since the twins came around from the adoption center, Patton had changed. It started at the Adoption Center itself when Patton only wanted Roman and not Remus. The worker there had told him they refused to be separate and had to be adopted together or not all. Patton tried to talk the worker into letting him take only Roman but the worker said no. That’s when Janus stepped in and convinced Patton to take them both.

When the twins were brought home, Patton mostly gave his attention to Roman. Janus was left to take care of Remus. The twins were only four then and life was already hell for them. As the months passed, Patton pulled Roman further and further away from Remus. He tried to raise Roman as the perfect kid while neglecting Remus more and more. Janus did his best to take care of Remus, sneaking him over to Roman when Patton was away. As even more time went on, Janus saw more and more of Patton’s true colors. It wasn’t long before their first fight which led to more and more fights. The twins could only watch on. Then one day, when Janus left for work and had Patton watch the twins, he came home to find Roman sitting alone on the couch.

It was late when Janus came home. He shuts the door behind him and blinks when he looks up and sees Roman alone on the couch, the poor boy’s face stained with tears.

“Roman?” Janus calls.

Roman flinches and it concerns Janus.

“O-Oh, welcome home, Papa.” he greets, a faint sad smile on his face.

Janus gets his shoes and coat off before joining Roman. Oh dear. He’s trembling.

“Where’s your dad?” he asks.

Roman shifts and hesitates before answering.

“At the neighbor’s...They told dad they heard screaming and wanted to check but dad said they should talk outside…” he mumbles.

Janus frowns at that. Has Patton always lied to the neighbors? Patton hates lying. 

“And where is your brother?” he asks next.

Roman freezes at that and more tears slip out, his shoulders trembling.

“I-I don’t know...I-I...d-don’t know...I don’t know!” he chokes, hands balling into fists.

Janus frowns even more. What the hell did Patton do this time?

“Shh, it’s alright, Roman. We’ll find him. Do you know what your dad did with Remus?”

Roman hesitates again, looking around as if Patton were watching.

Janus notices and gently takes his hands, squeezing them both gently.

“Go on, little prince. You can tell Papa.” he soothes.

Roman sniffles, looking around again before answering again.

“D-Dad dragged him away...S-Said he was a bad twin and deserved nothing...I-I don’t know where dad put him but he said Remus deserves to be locked up…” he admits. 

Janus nods, anger boiling inside him. His sweet husband had become a monster. That was the final straw. He takes a deep breath and pulls Roman close.

“Don’t worry, my little hero. We’ll find your brother.”

After searching around and finding scratch marks in the hall, Janus found Remus in the basement and the twins were reunited. Roman and Remus broke down by then and told them how mean and awful Patton was. Patton had locked Remus away and left him there so he ‘wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore’ and focused on Roman. The screaming was Remus trying and failing to fight back. It angered Janus, seeing how Patton only cared for having the perfect child. 

When Patton returned, Janus confronted him and said he was filing for divorce. He was also taking the twins. After a month of arguing and appearing in court, Janus won custody which of course upset Patton. Janus then moved out with the twins and into a new home. Of course, it didn’t stop Patton from coming over now and then to see them. So Janus did what he could to protect the twins while he started looking for a place further away to move to. And possibly a restraining order on Patton as well. They haven’t had much luck on either of those goals but Janus hasn’t given up.

And now here he was again, dealing with Patton once more.

“Patton. It’s...nice to see you.” Janus says, a small but fake smile on his lips.

Patton grins.

“Aww, I missed you too, Janus! May I come in? Your home looks lovely!” he says, trying to act like he was still all sunshine and rainbows.

Janus rolls his eyes but lets Patton in, leading him to the living room. They sit in the living room.

“So, what brings you here again?” Janus asks.

Patton giggles.

“Can’t this dear old dad visit his old family?” he grins.

Janus holds back a growl and the urge to roll his eyes. Part of him wishes he broke out the wine before answering the door. 

“No. I thought I made it clear the last several times that you leave me and the twins alone.” he hisses.

Patton shifts, smiling awkwardly now like he still thinks he’s sweet.

“Oh come on, Jan. Let me see them! I miss my kiddos!”

“They’re not your kids anymore. You signed the papers.” Janus replies.

Patton glances up the stairs.

“I know but...can’t I at least visit? Or even say hi? I miss them!” he frowns, taking a step forward.

Janus quickly blocks Patton. They’re far from the stairs but Patton could try to bolt past him out of sheer ‘worry’ and get to them. Janus was not letting that happen. 

“Miss them or miss Roman?” Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“I miss them both!” Patton says, eyes wide and like he thinks he’s a cute puppy. 

Janus snaps.

“Lies!”

And the fighting starts up again, Patton arguing back about what he said followed by Janus hissing about his neglectful abuse. 

Meanwhile…

The twins had sat on their shared bed, holding each other close as they listened to their Papa arguing downstairs with da- with the monster. Remus whimpers, clinging to his older brother, tiny hands clutching onto the faded red disney tee. Roman hugs Remus and tries his best to comfort him.

“It’s okay, Ree. Papa’s gonna make the monster go away. I know it.” he assures his twin, trying to stay calm and brave for his twin.

Remus nods, eyes glassy and threatening to tear up.

“I hope so....I don’t like the monster. He’s gonna lock me up again.” he whispers. 

“No. He won’t. I’m not letting him take you away again.” Roman says determinedly now, holding his brother tighter. 

Remus only nods again in return as the yelling continues. He never did like getting yelled at. It was loud and scary. Like thunder. He hopes the yelling stops soon. Despite him and his brother being in the safety of their bedroom, it was still loud. Almost too loud. The monster was very loud, roaring over and over and over. It made Remus whimper again and tremble, hiding his face. 

“You okay, Ree?” Roman asks, hearing his twin whimper.

“T-Too loud.” Remus replies.

Roman hums and looks around before seeing their closet, left open and big enough to hide in. Funnily enough, the twins aren’t afraid of the closet monsters. They fear the one downstairs even more. Especially since he’s real. To them, the closet is a land they call the Imagination. And they were going there now to escape until the monster is gone and they can stop playing the Quiet Game. Roman takes Remus’ hand, grabbing his twin’s favorite stuffed octopus too for extra comfort before leading Remus towards the closet. He lets Remus in first then follows and shuts the door, leaving a tiny crack open just in case.

“Better?” Roman asks, giving Remus his octopus.

Remus relaxes a bit and nods.

“Yeah. Thank’s RoRo.” he replies, clutching onto his octopus friend.

The two cling to each other again, Roman watching through the crack in the door for Papa or the monster. So far he can hear the yelling which is more faint now with them both being in the closet. He hopes Papa is okay. Roman recalls him being upset whenever the monster fought with him. Poor Papa. 

Then, as Roman continues to watch, he hears Papa and the monster’s voices getting louder followed by footsteps. Roman feels his heart pound. The monster is coming. Unsure of what else to do, he shuts the closet door and pulls Remus close. His twin squeaks and clings to him. The yelling picks up.

“I told you to leave, Patton!”

“Not until I see my kiddos!”

“They’re not your kiddos! Leave them alone!”

“I’m taking them! They’re mine!”

“No, they aren’t!”

“Get out of my way, Janus!”

“You’re not taking MY kids!”

“I am! You can’t stop me!”

“No, but a restraining order will! Get out of my house!”

“But-”

“Out!”

Then it goes dead silent before more talking is heard. It’s quiet and muffled now. Footsteps are heard but they’re slower now.

Meanwhile…

Janus sighs and watches as Patton finally leaves the house. He sighs in relief, shutting the door and locking it. The monster is gone. At least for now. After giving himself a moment to calm down, Janus turns and heads upstairs to check on the twins. He opens their bedroom door to find it...empty? He looks around, worried for a moment when he hears a muffled voice from the closet. Sighing in relief, Janus makes his way towards the closet and knocks gently.

“Boys? It’s Papa.”

It’s silent for a moment then the closet door creaks open a bit, a wary green eye peeking through. Janus gives a soft gentle smile, assuring Roman it’s him. 

“Papa!”

The door then slides open fully and the twins scramble out and into Janus’ arms, sending them all to the floor. He’s glad his twins are safe and okay. The monster failed to lay its hands on them again.

“It’s alright. I’m here now. What were you doing in the closet, my little royals?” Janus asks, holding them both.

“Ree said it was too loud so we hid in the closet. When we heard footsteps and louder yelling, I shut the door. Just in case. I’m sorry if we broke any rules, Papa.” Roman explains.

Janus shakes his head and smiles softly, squeezing both his twins comfortingly.

“You didn’t break any rules. I’m glad you protected your little brother. Hopefully we never have to play the quiet game ever again but for today, you and Remus were brave.” he says.

Sure, they’re only eight and have been through four years of hell but he knows his boys are getting stronger and stronger each day. He knows they’ll make it to a much safer place than here. Someday. For now, he’ll have to keep them safe for as long as he can.

“You were brave too, Papa! You fought the monster away!” Remus adds, smiling now. 

Janus huffs a laugh, ruffling the twins’ hair.

“Of course. I have to protect my prince.” he boops Roman’s nose and then Remus’ “And my duke. I love you very much.”

The twins giggle, beaming again. A sight Janus will fight to keep on their faces for as long as they all live.

“We love you too, Papa!”

[starlocked01]

The Black Coffee Widower

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 3- Coffee Shop

WC: 4.2K

Summary: Virgil works the late-night shift at the local coffee shop. That's where he poisons and picks up his victims. He wasn't ready for the one who didn't fight back.

Content Warnings (there's a lot today): Serial Killer/Coffee Shop AU Unsympathetic Virgil, Poisoning, Kidnapping, Swearing, Gun Violence, Negative Self-talk, Self Hatred, Murder and Attempted Murder, Implied Sexual content. Sexual innuendo, referenced rape, referenced mutilation, Strangulation, Hospitals, Police

@dukexietyweek

The simple fact was that they glowed. Virgil had long ago given up on trying to explain it to himself; they just glowed when he saw them. It was like a premonition- a beautiful soft light that needed to be contained lest it sullied the rest of the world by leaving it dim and grungy in comparison.

Virgil was grungy. He knew very well he didn't and would never glow as they did. Maybe that was the reason why. Maybe if he ever had to tell someone why he did it, he'd tell them that.

He killed them because they glowed and no one should be able to glow.

However, he'd never cared all that much about the whys. The hows were so much more fun. How did he pick his victims? Easy. They glowed and walked in at the wrong time. How did a weak, little, pathetic loser subdue the perfect glowing people? Bitter coffee was a perfect cover for bitter poisons. How did he end their lives? Any way he pleased.

How did he avoid detection? A healthy dose of anxiety kept him careful. Too many of the brightest glowing people escaped because they'd be missed. He never went by his legal name anywhere. He stayed patient and alert. He was the nobody that no one could ever remember. Playing barista sucked but it was the perfect cover. No one ever suspected the sulky, little, dimwitted worker stuck on the insomniacs shift at the quiet little 24-hour cafe. And no one ever really noticed if the store's hours were a bit unpredictable between 2 am and 4 am. That was the best time for hunting; it worked and Virgil wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

---

Virgil knelt, his latest catch already unconscious and tied up behind the counter when the doorbell chimed. Cursing at himself for forgetting to lock the door, Virgil grabbed a refill pack of napkins and stood cautiously. He gasped, finding the man who had entered shone twice as brightly as the woman he already had tied up. Certain that Miss Double-Soy-Latte-with-Hazelnut-Syrup-and-Whipped-Cream-you-got-that-Sugar? wasn't about to wake up and cause a scene, Virgil watched the man as he studied the menu.

The first thing he would do is take the man’s studded wrist gauntlet and fishnet fingerless gloves. Those things couldn't belong to someone who glows. Virgil squinted and could just make out a loosely looped studded belt to match, hanging off the man’s hip and exposing his lack of undergarments. Virgil hungrily followed the curve of that hip with his eyes up to the man's stomach peeking out underneath the ragged edge of a homemade cropped band t-shirt. He wanted to punch that stomach, to feel what it was like when the man tensed and when he stayed soft in compliance.

Next, he stared at shapely arms crossed in front of the man's chest. Those arms looked strong as a vice and he wondered how much effort it would take to break those delicate bones to render the muscles useless. Would he break first?

The man wore a sleeveless leather vest, displaying a museum's worth of inkwork, tentacles and snakes, and other writhing forms accented periodically with teeth and eyes and fangs and beaks. A rendition of the Harry Potter Death Eater mark set into the shoulder and tattooed thorns circled his neck. Virgil found himself getting hot under the collar and decided two in one night would be a fun challenge.

It was hard to see the man’s face until he flashed Virgil a brilliantly blinding smile as if on cue. The smile was all the sign Virgil needed to know this man would die tonight. He was practically begging Virgil to save him from the light radiating from his face. His gorgeous, handsome, wild-eyed face.

Virgil wanted so badly to touch the messy, overdue 5 o'clock shadow, to feel the scars left by razor nicks and frequent skin irritation. He wanted to wipe away the heavy eyeliner and mascara, run dirty fingers through greasy, dyed hair. He wanted those eyes to see him for who he is so he could spare them the pain of hoping there had been another ending once he'd entered the shop.

If the stranger was uncomfortable with his intense gaze, he certainly didn't show it as he approached the counter. Virgil squirmed as a cacophony of overlapping mismatched beats of a second hand overwhelmed his entire sense of hearing. Looking down, he quickly spotted a wristwatch on the unconscious woman's wrist and stepped on it to deaden the maddening sound. Soon all he could hear was the new customer's watch ticking erratically as though it needed to be wound up.

"Heya, kitten! Like what you see, baby?" the man smirked at Virgil as he leaned down on the counter and made sultry suggestive eyes at him.

"Excuse me?" Virgil hissed, recoiling from the familiarity.

"Woah, kitty's got claws huh?" the man giggled. Virgil stiffened, well aware how close the man could come to looking down and spotting the woman. And if he attempted to turn him in it wouldn't end pretty. He didn't want to have to clean up the shop after a struggle before having his fun.

"What are you ordering?" Virgil asked tersely.

"Me-ow. Guess you don't swing my way- darn. I bet you've got a totally bodacious booty too," the man batted his eyelashes at Virgil.

"That isn't on the menu. Order or get lost, yeah?" Virgil growled, trying to seem as disinterested in the enticing man as he could manage.

"Right. Seven shots of espresso, a shot of creamer, and a shot of the pineapple ginger concentrate, s'il vous plait," the man listed off as though he'd ordered the same thing a hundred times.

Virgil froze, unsure how to ring up the disgusting concoction, "what the hell? What kind of drink is that?"

"It's like me. One of a kind," the man beamed, brushing bleached silver hair out of his eyes, "can you handle that, kitty kat?"

"Stop with the pet names," Virgil rolled his eyes and finished inputting the drink, "um.. that will be… $6.69."

"Eyo! Sixty niiiiiiine," the man giggled emphatically while pulling out his money to pay.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "childish. Name for the order?"

"Uh, your phone number."

"What?"

"Damn you don't take hints!" the man placed one hand on his chest and bowed with a flourish, "my name is Remus, and I think you're very cute, kitty kat."

"You are maddening! Just call me Virgil!" he snapped, getting a cup ready to prepare the last drink Remus would ever have, "it's gonna take a minute to pull all those shots. Gosh… that much caffeine could kill you…" Virgil smirked at his own joke.

Remus took the smirk for a friendly smile and grinned, "I got all night for you, Virgil."

"That's cute. I'll let you know when it's ready," Virgil smiled, making direct eye contact as he added his favorite blend of sedatives to Remus’s cup.

It only took 30 seconds before Remus hit the floor with a confused grunt. Virgil was almost impressed the man had downed half the drink in one gulp. Moving quickly, Virgil locked the shop and dragged Remus back behind the counter, binding and gagging the flirtatious idiot. Tonight was going to be so special.

---

It hadn’t been easy, moving both bodies- cursing his weak, pathetic self the entire time. He made sure to dose both of them again after stashing them in the trunk so he could go back and finish out his shift.

He smiled pleasantly at the officers who stopped by just before the morning shift, careful to not give them any reason to be suspicious as he packed up day-old donuts and prepared two drinks nearly as caffeinated as Remus’s drink had been but significantly less poisoned. But still a little poisoned because fuck the police.

It took every muscle in Virgil’s body to not run gleefully to the car when the morning shift came to relieve him from work. He hid his excitement behind his usual persona of snarky disinterest and exhaustion until he was safely in the car and blasting his favorite CD on the drive home.

Pulling directly into the garage, Virgil shut down the car and giggled as the door shut slowly on his prisoners' last hope for rescue. Working at a leisurely pace, Virgil dragged first Remus then the woman down into his basement, both drowsy and barely able to make a complaint. It only seemed fair they die in the order they'd been caught so Virgil laid Remus out on the couch while he tied the woman down to his workbench.

The woman began to moan pathetically just as Virgil was tying down the last limb. It was not a moment too soon. He chuckled to himself and smacked her face a few times to help her wake up.

"Look alive, sunshine! You won't be much longer, I'm afraid," Virgil quipped as she blinked awake and started to panic at the restraints holding her down.

God, he hated when they screamed almost as much as he hated the watches. Virgil waited as long as he could stand the high-pitched whining pleas for freedom and help before loudly shushing until she quieted.

"Shh! Stop yelling or I will restrict your breathing," Virgil hissed, laying a prohibitive finger to her lips, "I promise you'll live longer if you stay quiet."

"You'll let me go?"

"No. I'll just take my time," Virgil smirked as the color drained from her face and her lip began to quiver, "ohh. Ohh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart. It's time to grow up and realize death is inevitable."

Virgil laughed as she started screaming again, only turning away when Remus stirred from his sleep.

"Oh, dear. You've woken up my other guest. Now you know, he's special. You're going to have the life choked out of you, slowly but surely, but he gets to lose a lot more than his life. Count yourself lucky, sweetheart." Virgil turned to examine the man on the couch again as he blearily blinked up at him.

"You coulda'sked, kitkat," Remus mumbled nearly incomprehensibly. Virgil tilted his head in confusion as he watched Remus. The man slowly regained awareness, and even as Virgil stood above him with a hard frown, he smiled back up at his captor.

"What the hell are you getting on about?" Virgil asked with a growl, hoping to startle that unsettling grin off Remus’ face.

Remus laughed, "you coulda just asked if you wanted to do a scene, cutie! Although I love the attention to realism. Like you actually drugged me to bring me home!"

Virgil stared, completely in shock at what he was hearing, "wait.. you think…"

"That you were too shy to ask me out so you drugged me and dragged me back home? Yes," Remus nodded enthusiastically, "if you have some whips and an electric hand mixer we can have some real fun, you sexy little kitten!" Remus bumped his eyebrows suggestively, leaving Virgil absolutely stunned.

"What is going on here?!?" the woman on the table cried out.

"Shut the hell up!" Virgil barked back at her, too confused to do much more than stare at Remus. Why did he like this? Why did Virgil like that Remus liked this? He felt hot and confused but also certain about one thing he absolutely wanted.

Experimentally he reached down and laid his hand on Remus’ exposed stomach. Watching Remus for his reaction, Virgil slowly slid his hand along the skin and up to Remus’s chest. Remus shut his eyes with a smile and shivered at the touch, "oh yeah, baby. I can purr for you, kitty. Anything you want."

Virgil inhaled sharply, pulling back his hand and looking back at the other prisoner as she lay whimpering on the table.

Well shit, what was he supposed to do with a captive audience?

---

Virgil didn't know what he'd been thinking, letting Remus go after all was said and done. Remus had been fun and so down for all of his sickest fantasies, supplying quite a few of his own. He'd stolen Remus’ watch and put it on the woman's body before shooting both timepieces on her wrist. The ticking had probably driven him to let Remus go. That had to explain it

He dumped the woman as far as he possibly could and hoped beyond reason that Remus wouldn't recognize her in the news and realized what he'd done. For a week he lived in fear of the cops showing up at work or worse his house, armed with search warrants and one hell of a witness. For a week, nothing happened.

It turned out he'd worried for nothing. Just when Virgil began to itch again to get rid of another glowing being, despite the police pressure pushing him to lay low, Remus came back in during his shift.

"Hello, my little purrrfect kitten!" Remus beamed as he walked into the shop.

Virgil froze and slowly turned back to face him, "you- you came back?"

"Mhm. Never got your number but I wanted to see you again, Virgie. Figured we could have some more fun this time," Remus smirked as he leaned casually against the counter, "one usual with the special sauce please!"

"Special sauce?" Virgil asked, still amazed Remus had even come back to the cafe.

"You know," Remus leaned in close and whispered, "the stuff that knocks me out so you can take me home and we can get it on freakier than my last BDSM club"

"Wow, you- you liked it that much?" Virgil let out a low whistle. He studied Remus again, stricken by the fact he didn't glow so much this time. Even though Virgil wanted to take care of another glowing bastard, he was so much more interested in this willing abductee.

"Yeah, I did! That shit's hot as fuck!" Remus beamed. Virgil checked the time on his terminal display and realized it was nearly the time his least favorite police patrons would be making their morning run.

"Look, uh… why don't we save the tranqs for my place?" Virgil smirked as he started to prepare Remus’ strange order, "I'm amazed this drink doesn't put you in a coma already."

Remus giggled, "sometimes it takes a little something extra to get the heart pumping, yeah?"

"Hm. Well, I get off in two hours-"

"I'll be sitting right here in the corner then. I wanna get to know you, Virgie."

"A horrible mistake for you, really," Virgil laughed, heart fluttering far too much.

"Plus I think I left my watch at your place…"

"I haven't seen it this week. We can look though," Virgil lied smoothly, knowing very well the police had the timepiece in evidence.

Remus kept flirting as Virgil cleaned the store and served the early morning crowd, true to his word about waiting to leave with Virgil. They walked out to his car and Remus held out his arm expectantly when they sat down.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"You're off the clock, let's get this party started. Surely you have the special stuff in here- you injected me last time."

Virgil flushed, "um.. really? You don't want to wait to know where we're going first?"

"How am I supposed to pretend I'm getting kidnapped if you don't knock me out? At least tie my hands?" Remus bat his eyes at Virgil who rolled his eyes and leaned over to grab a scarf out of the glove box.

"You're ridiculous."

"Yeah but you like it, kitten."

---

Logan stared at the evidence bored, absolutely baffled. In 5 months there had been 18 victims, a consistent signature, and every promise that someone would turn up with a connection to this perp. Or someone should know where these folks had been headed when they fell into the unsub's trap.

And then after Lydia with the two watches- nothing. No bodies were found for weeks. No whisperings of the media-named Black Widower who aggressively mutilated his male victims almost beyond recognition after raping them and humiliated the women after strangling them with silk scarves.

"I just don’t understand. Guys like this don’t go dormant! It's against every drive they have. What are we missing, Patton?"

Patton looked up from his third cup of coffee, "I don't know, Lo. What about the two-unsub theory? Maybe they met up and are keeping each other occupied?"

Logan rolled his eyes, "oh sure. Two serial killers, one who's gay and one who hates women meet and start playing house. Real cute."

"It could happen…" Patton replied defensively, already reaching for a second donut as his partner glared disapprovingly.

"No. I think it's the same unsub. The watches are always shot while the victim wears them. It's consistent. It's a single, unique signature that the media still hasn't published. If it's two different killers, they knew about each other and were purposefully copying each other long before they went dormant."

"Well, I'm not going to complain that we aren't finding more victims. I'd rather people not be mysteriously killed and maimed by the Black Widower...s," Patton lifted his chin defiantly. He stood and walked over to the evidence board, studying the geographic profile again, the map showing a confusing cluster of dumpsites, victim's homes, and last sightings, and puzzled over the strangeness of the case.

"If this case goes cold, we may never find the unsub. He lives his life, free to decide to start again while all of his victims lay rotting in the ground. Their families don't deserve to live with that fear," Logan sighed heavily in near defeat, "of course I don’t want more victims. I want this man caught. Why did he suddenly stop?"

---

For a month, Remus had come in once or twice a week, asking Virgil for the secret sauce and flirting with him until the end of his shift. The randomness of his timing and anticipation of his visits made it impossible for Virgil to hunt. He didn't quite mind because seeing Remus was always better than the thrill of the kill.

Virgil finally relented and watched with quiet admiration as Remus celebrated over getting his number, and their relationship only moved faster after that. Pretty soon Remus was able to convince him to go on an actual date after work, grabbing breakfast at a nearby diner and hitting up his apartment afterward. Virgil had rarely spent so long away from his own home, but being out with Remus made him feel almost normal.

Media slowly stopped covering the Black Widower and Virgil smiled to himself just imagining how frustrated the police must be that they couldn't find him.

Virgil was happy, laying next to his boyfriend who loved him despite almost every eccentricity. He almost believed nothing could go wrong with Remus there.

"Uh, kit kat? I have a bit of a confession to make," Virgil winced, cursing himself for being so naive to believe that foolish sentiment.

"What’s up, dukey?" Virgil rolled to his side to face his boyfriend, "you can tell me anything."

"I don't- promise you won't get mad or like.. react badly?" Remus asked quietly, alarming Virgil even more.

He gently laid a hand on Remus’ neck and rubbed that roughened cheek with his thumb, "what's going on, Rem? You're scaring me."

Remus visibly gulped and whispered, "I know what happened to my watch. Virgil, I've always known.."

Virgil pulled back slowly. So this is what it actually felt like to be caught. His heart hammered in his throat, making a verbal reply impossible. He strained to not start crushing Remus’ throat and his own heart in his panic. This was love and this was a threat and god the way Remus looked at him right now only complicated everything else so much more.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't wriggling away from Virgil’s touch. Remus stared death in the eye unflinchingly.

He'd always figured his boyfriend must be brave or stupid, but Virgil hadn't counted on both.

"I know… what you are… and I still fell in love with you, Virgil. If you're gonna… could you at least drug me first and let me kiss you with my last breath?"

Very quickly several pieces fell into place as Virgil stared at the man who loved him despite every flaw and couldn't even beg for his own safety or life.

Remus knew what happened the night they met.

Remus had made the connections to the other murders and the subsequent drought of victims.

Remus could have turned him in- directly to the officers at the shop a half dozen times and a hundred other times when they weren’t spending time together.

Remus loved him.

Remus loved him and was scared of this confrontation.

Remus was not scared of dying.

Killing his boyfriend would be the exact link the cops would need to capture him.

Not killing his boyfriend for knowing his secret would be the largest risk imaginable.

Virgil couldn’t live without Remus

His hand was slowly choking Remus out despite his reluctance to take action.

Virgil gasped and pushed Remus away roughly, darting out of the bed and down the hall. He didn't stop until he heard Remus calling out for him.

Shit.

"Virgil!" his voice came out hoarse and painfully weak sounding. Virgil knew he should run.

But Remus was calling for him. And this was his fault.

"Virgil?" it was a question, asked in a voice that couldn't get enough air to support itself. He could leave and Remus would probably die a very painful death, all alone, with his fingers and palm emblazoned in the bruising that would provide the cause of death.

Remus loved him. He couldn't let this be the end.

Virgil flew back into the bedroom, grabbed the landline, and made the call.

"Remus, I am so sorry. Just keep breathing, baby. I am so so sorry!" Virgil apologized profusely, waiting for the emergency operator to pick up.

---

Hospital staff had to pry Virgil from Remus’ side as they moved him quickly into the O.R. Virgil paced and wondered how exactly to explain Remus’s injuries without getting arrested to distract himself from the fear that Remus would die in surgery.

He should have never let himself get so close to someone so smart and funny and perfect and… glowing. Virgil sat and waited for the doctor's verdict, pulling his hood over his eyes to block out the throngs of injured, sick, frantically glowing people around him.

Ages passed until Virgil heard his name and looked up suddenly for the source. A doctor and a police officer stood before him and all of the adrenaline in his body screamed that he needed to run.

"Uh.. how is he, doc?" Virgil asked, fighting himself to not scream or make a scene.

"Remus Crowne is currently in recovery and you may visit him. Due to the nature of his injuries, we have contacted the police to speak with him first," the doctor intoned, voice dripping with suspicion.

The officer took the pause to speak up, "would you like to make a statement, Mr. Kier?"

"I just want to see him," Virgil replied in a raspy voice, shaking his head in denial as he stood.

"Very well. This way, sir," the doctor led Virgil and the officer back towards the recovery rooms. When they arrived, Virgil nearly choked seeing Remus talking with the same two officers who came into his shop each morning. The shorter one knelt beside the bed to hold Remus’ hand. He spoke softly and asked all the questions while his partner stood tall and took notes, looking incredulously at the injured man. Virgil instinctively wanted to barge in and protect Remus from these pigs but the third held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Before long the two officers left the room, eyeing Virgil disdainfully. He waited for the words that would send his world crashing around him even more than it already had.

"You- you can go in now, hon," Virgil's head tilted in confusion as the third officer let him go, "just be more careful in the future."

"I- what? No charges?" Virgil barely whispered, glancing towards the bed where Remus laid watching the tv.

"Believe me, if it had been me, I don’t care how consensual- I would have pressed charges for sending me to the E.R. have a good day, sir. Come along, Patton." The stricter-looking cop turned, gesturing to the kinder one and all three left quickly. Virgil beamed and ran to Remus’ side.

"You're welcome, kitten," Remus coughed and reached for Virgil’s hand.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't want to, Rem-"

"Shhhh. I told them it was a sex fantasy gone a bit too far. If I'd known you liked strangling dudes too-"

"Now you shush!" Virgil leaned in close, "you get better fast now, okay?"

"I always wanted to date a serial killer.. promise you won't leave me over this?" Remus grinned weakly up at Virgil, "I could help you, ya know."

"Shhhh this is just the pain meds talking. You don’t know a serial killer," Virgil laughed as tears of relief streamed down his cheeks. He gave Remus a dramatic stage wink and held his hand securely.

"Aww, you're right. I'm just stuck with a pretty boy who doesn't know his own strength," Remus grinned and watched Virgil rather than the tv until a nurse came to shoo his boyfriend away for the night.

Remus couldn't wait for their first hunt together.

[canvas-the-florist]

Learning to Listen

Ships: Past Romantic Prinxiety, Romantic Intruality,

Warnings: Messy breakup, swearing, unintentional bigotry, mentions of sex, brief (VERY brief) making out

Summary: Virgil, Roman, Patton, and Remus move into a house together as housing during college. It works out great until Virgil and Roman breakup and Remus discovers some things that could complicate his own romantic relationship with Patton (none of the characters are unsympathetic they’re just stupid.)

Word Count: 1.8K

-

   “I’m just an over glorified fuck buddy to you, aren’t I?!” Virgil yelled through the thin walls and Remus flinched at the noise. Roman and Virgil decided to have an apparently much needed fight. He was glad that Patton wasn’t home to witness what he assumed was a breakup. Remus didn’t know whether or not he was going to have to comfort Virgil or Roman.

   “No! I just- Virgil you aren’t listening to me! Like you ever do!” Remus turned up the music in his headphones, despite it already at max volume. His eardrums were probably going to explode, with blood and whatever cartilage did when it couldn’t handle the stress of hearing.

   “Are you breaking up with me?!”

   “Yeah, VIRGIL, I think I am!” Remus was impressed that they had gotten to that part after two hours. But hey, they got there in the end, right? He heard the door of the room open and slam shut. He paused his music and looked up to see Roman looking deflated. Roman walked over and sat next to Remus silently. Remus didn’t say anything, not wanting to fuck up his brother’s day anymore, even though that sounded like fun. Roman screamed into a pillow and fell the back of his head onto Remus’s lap, slapping his phone to the ground. “Did you manage not to hear any of that?”

   “Oh I’m pretty sure your voice could’ve broken the windows if you tried harder.” Remus supplied. “I don’t know exactly what the fight was about though, you guys were talking like normal people at the point.”

   “What would you know about normal people?” Roman responded snarkily, before shaking his head softly and corrected himself. “Sorry. That fight was a lot, I’m not sure the adrenaline of it has burned out yet… Remus, is it weird that I thought we were doing really well? I didn’t even notice Virgil wasn’t happy with it. I really fucked up.”

   Remus thought briefly to his own dating life. He realized he related more than he wanted to. “Yeah, you really boinged that one, dude. But, I’m sure it’ll be okay. If it doesn’t work out I can decapitate Virge for you. He’s my best friend but you’re my brother.”

   Roman laughed lightly, and tears rolled down his face unto Remus’s legs. His laughter quickly turned to sobbing into Remus’s shirt until Patton came home from work 30 minutes later. He opened the door humming to himself until he saw the twins on the couch, Roman’s makeup running and generally looking like a mess.

   “Is… everything okay?” Remus shook his head and Patton nodded to himself. “Where’s Virgil?” That simple question got Roman to crumble down horizontally on the couch again. Patton thought to himself with furrowed brows about that response. Remus pointed to Virgil’s room and Patton followed, knocking on the door. He went in after a few seconds to see Virgil curled up in a ball, shaking and clearly not alright.

   He couldn’t even choke a word out. Patton closed the door and sat on the ground in front of him. Without questioning anything he opened up his arms in case Virgil wanted a hug. He did. “Okay kiddo, breathe in for four seconds for me. Now hold it for seven-”

   This went on until his breathing was stable. Virgil’s fist was closed around a piece of Patton’s shirt. “I shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

   “Do you want to talk about it?” Patton asked, tightening his grip. He had begun to suspect what might’ve happened and almost wanted to cry about it himself, but it wasn’t about him right now. “Not that you have to but if you need to, I’m here.”

   “No, my therapist has told me to communicate better. Which, ironically, what I was trying to do with Roman…” Virgil trailed off, loosening his grip of Patton’s shirt and looking up to his ceiling. He doesn’t really seem to want me other than to have sex and after mentioning that it eventually turned into a screaming match. And then he… then he broke up with me. I should’ve listened to him before but I didn’t. Patton I don’t know what to do.”

   Patton bit his lip for a second. Only sex, huh? He thought back to himself and Remus. They sort of had the opposite issue… This wasn’t about that though. Virgil still wanted a response. “I wasn’t there, Virgil, and this isn’t my relationship we’re talking about. I- do you want suggestions or do you just want me to listen without giving any opinions?”

   “Suggestions would be cool.”

   “Alright,” with that permission Patton tried to think of his best friendly advice. ‘Communication’ was usually always the answer but it was some sort of subsection of that Patton wasn’t sure how to explain. Listen to Roman? Be clear about your wants in a romantic relationship? It was hard for Patton to follow those in his OWN dating life. He realized more and more issues to bring up to Remus after this resolved somehow. “Well, it would probably be helpful to listen to what Roman wants in the relationship and have him listen to what you would want. And then… based on that, work on how to do that together or if that’s not compatible… Break off the romantic relationship because it would probably be healthier that way.”

   Virgil whistled lowly. “Dang, Pat. I was sort of expecting a follow your heart thing. But, thank you. I guess that would mean confronting the issues, which is quite honestly terrifying. I should probably do that now or something…” He stood up, holding his head from doing it too fast and made his way to the door. Patton remained on the floor a moment longer before following.

Remus was back to listening to music while Roman was scrolling on his phone as Remus played with his hair idly. Virgil grabbed the fabric of his jacket before walking to the loveseat. He heard Patton close his door and almost jumped out of his skin. He took a deep breath. “Roman? Maybe we should try again with that discussion… I don’t want this to be screaming. I like you, a lot. What do you say?”

   He made brief eye contact with Roman, seeing the dried tears and puffy eyes, but he nodded and sat up. Remus gave Virgil a raised eyebrow but said nothing. “Okay.” Roman croaked. Patton walked to the kitchen almost immediately to give both of them glasses of water to fight back against what the yelling and tears did to their throats. “You can start.”

   “Should we leave?” Remus asked, as Patton handed the glass to Virgil and then Roman. Patton sat down at the one chair in the room, but didn’t get comfortable just in case. “I mean it’s your conversation.”

   “You can stay. I don’t want to yell again. A mediator would be good.” Like it helped before, Remus thought to himself, but stayed put. Virgil cleared his throat with a small cough and took a sip of water. “I’m starting? Okay. I feel like I'm not getting a lot of romantic affection lately in our relationship that I would really appreciate. We don’t really kiss or anything and I would like to know if that’s because of me or not. You can go now.”

   Roman blinked and used a tissue from the side table to clean up his face as he spoke. “Thank you for telling me that, Virgil… I didn’t realize that you wanted affectionate stuff that badly. I feel like I don’t need that in my relationships and I’ve been questioning my sexuality and romantic orientations for a while. And I probably should’ve brought this up earlier but… I think I’m…” He looked down at the ground. “I think I’m aromantic.” He sounded like he was about to cry again. Remus looked at Patton with wide eyes.

   Patton returned the look as Virgil talked next. “Oh. Roman, I’m so sorry about the fuckbuddy comment, shit. I didn’t realize… but I’m proud of you for finding that out about yourself. Maybe it would be healthier if we broke up, huh?”

   Roman laughed, new tears falling down his face. The two embraced each other, laughing while crying. “Yeah, I guess we are breaking up then!”

   It would hurt for a while, and the change was definitely huge but it was better. But after witnessing that Patton and Remus knew that they had to talk. The only question was who would be the first to bring it up?

-

   Remus and Patton were on Patton’s bed, making out. Which was fine, neither of their roommates were home and it was fun. The issues came up when Patton’s hand went under Remus’s shirt. “Is this okay?” He asked. It all came crashing down when Remus shook his head no. They stopped immediately and fell onto the bed looking up at the ceiling next to each other. “We should talk about this. Not that you didn’t want to, just that we need to define better boundaries for our relationship.”

   “You’re right. We should talk about this.” Remus gulped. Apparently it was already happening. After two weeks but it still didn’t feel like enough time. “Patt, I love you… But I don’t know about fucking.”

   “Crass, but I get it. Are you… asexual?” He looked over at his boyfriend, who shrugged. “Well, that’s fine too. So no sexual stuff. Got it. Anything else that would cross the line that we should talk about?”

   Remus was tempted just to shrug again but didn’t. “I don’t know yet. After Roman finding out he’s aromantic I’ve been thinking. I still want to be with you, but can I give you everything you want in a relationship? I don’t think I… I don’t think I NEED or WANT sex at all, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m so fucking confused.”

  “I may want it, Remus but I don’t think it’s a need in our relationship.” Patton reassured. And he wasn’t lying either. He believed what he was saying, glad that his conversations with Janus had also gotten him to check his own wants and needs in general. “I think I���m alright like this, but it’s important for me to know for sure.”

   He reached out for Remus’s hand, and he took it. They looked up at the ceiling, with a feeling of clarity that helped them relax. It wasn’t really a change at all, but it gave reason to actions and made sure they wouldn’t make the other uncomfortable. And that was worth it.

Taglist: @vpow @loveroffandoms @yourfellowsmolgay @moth-bugs @vsem-5

[f00pyf00p]

Beyond The Darkness Lies Light

Fandom: Sanders Sides  Characters: Logan, Virgil, Janus  Rating: Mature  Relationships: Romantic Analogical Warnings: Violence, Implied Rape, Abusive Relationships, Flashbacks, Nightmares, PTSD, Unsympathetic Deceit, Crying, Angst and Hurt/Comfort Word count: 2270 Summary: Logan awoke in a puddle of his own sweat. It was dark- dark enough that he couldn’t tell if that shadow on the wall was Janus or just- He flicked the light switch next to him. The room was empty. Other Notes: Analogical Week Day 3: Nightmares/Dreams @analogicalweek

Read on AO3

Logan had already been tense when Janus turned to him. His boyfriend’s eyes were narrowed, breathing harsh, and when he reached for Logan’s wrist, Logan couldn’t help but to flinch away.

That didn’t stop Janus’ hand from closing around it and slamming it up against his bedroom wall.

“Where were you?”

His voice was practically a growl and as he said it he boxed Logan into the corner, so there was nowhere to run, nowhere to go but to him. Logan looked at the floor but Janus’s other hand grabbed the sides of his face and forced him to meet his eyes.

“I asked you a question, you complete dunce. Where. Were. You.”

“I- I was-”

“You- you were,” Janus mocked. His hand tightened around Logan’s wrist and the other one dropped his head to fully slam him in the stomach.

Logan doubled over, the only thing keeping him up that firm, impossible grip.

“I was at my mom’s.” Logan’s voice was practically a whisper and edged with pain. “I promise, I wasn’t-”

“Do you remember the rules?”

“Our dog had just died, she said she needed-”

Another punch, this one to the face. “Do you remember the rules, Bonehead?”

Logan whimpered. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

Janus’s hand hauled him back to his feet. Logan kept his gaze on the wood beams of the floor, falling silent as Janus’s hand grazed the bruise he had just planted on him.

“You.” A slap to the face. “Don’t.” Another in the same spot. “Go.” A knee to his groin. Logan nearly slipped down the wall, but Janus kept him standing. “Anywhere.” He backhanded him on the other cheek. “Without me.”

Logan was quick to nod.

“Get on the bed.”

“Please-”

“Get on the bed, Logan.”

The hand fell off his wrist, exposing layers of dark purple handprints. Janus didn’t need to tell him again as Logan took a step forward, towards their shared bed, towards-

Logan awoke in a puddle of his own sweat. It was dark- dark enough that he couldn’t tell if that shadow on the wall was Janus or just-

He flicked the light switch next to him.

The room was empty.

Obviously, you complete idiot.

He winced at the voice- the voice that was definitely not his- and dropped back onto the sheets. Breath came unsteadily, fiercely, and tears pricked at the edges of Logan’s eyes. Before he could get a proper grip on himself, a loud sob poured out of him which was enough to trigger the avalanche that came after.

Gods, he was pathetic. It was a dream. It was just a dream. He had escaped Janus years ago. He was safe, he had moved, and there was no way for Janus to ever get to him again.

He was fine.

Fine.

Another sob ripped out of him. Logan rolled to the other half of his bed, leaving a trail of sweat as he did so, and curled into a ball under the covers.

He was fine.

He was home.

He was safe.

But no matter how many times Logan repeated it, he couldn’t quite make himself believe it.

Logan’s hand swept out towards his bedside table- maybe for his glasses, to turn on another light, he couldn’t quite be sure, but either way, what his hand fell on was his fully charged cell phone.

He knew what he wanted before he had fully comprehended it. His thumb pressed against the home button, fingers rapidly working to find the phone app, until he finally opened to the recent calls section and clicked the very first name on the list.

He pressed it up to his ear.

It rang once.

Twice.

He probably wasn’t even awake, Logan told himself. It was- he glanced at the alarm clock- 2:21 in the morning. There was no need for Virgil to be awake, and frankly, it would actually be troubling if he did pick up the phone.

At least, that’s what Logan was telling himself.

“What’s up?” The voice was slightly crackly, rough and Logan found that the very sound of it forced another sob out of his throat.

That definitely put the voice on alert. “L? L, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m fine.” Logan choked on his own words. “Hi, Vir-Virgil.”

“Hello yourself. What’s going on?”

“I…” Another sob tore through him. “I’m not actually sure why-why I called.”

“That’s okay.” There was a ruffling on the other side of the phone, followed by a loud zipper. “Do you want to talk?”

Did he? Not really. Re-visiting the dream right now felt like rubbing salt into an old wound, one that had yet to close. One Logan wasn’t sure he would ever be able to fully close.

So why had he called? What had his body known he needed before his brain could fully catch up with his instincts?

“I-” Logan swallowed. “I want you.”

“Okay.” Thumping noises. Virgil must be walking around. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Logan wiped his eyes with his arm. “It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re capable of that, Logan.” Virgil was interrupted by… was that an engine? “And if you’re upset, I want to listen.”

Logan’s heart lurched forward and a fresh wave of tears completely undid all the work he had done in cleaning himself up. There was a quiet noise from outside his window and Logan instantly curled closer around himself, mewling softly.

“L.” Virgil’s voice was unbearably soft. “L, I’m coming to your apartment. I’ll be there in five minutes. Okay?”

Normally, Logan would protest. He should protest now; it had just been a nightmare and nightmares were nothing, nightmares didn’t matter-

A car roared down by his window and Logan whimpered.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll stay on the phone with you while I’m getting there.”

“Yes, please.”

“L, do you want to talk about what happened?”

It was almost the same question as earlier, but it was so unbearably soft, so unbearably understanding that Logan found the easy “no” from earlier wasn’t one he could summon. He closed his tears and huddled closer to his phone as if Virgil himself could appear through the screen.

“I experienced a dream. About… him.”

Virgil's silence was deafening and Logan almost apologized, for calling him, for waking him, especially over something as stupid as a nightmare, when finally his boyfriend spoke.

“I’m going to kill him.” Virgil let out a breath. “Not helpful. Sorry. Um. You’re not dumb, Logan. I can’t imagine… What you’re feeling right now is valid. Okay? Everything that’s happening right now is valid.”

“He’s not even here.” Logan's voice cracked on the last word.

“The memory of what he did to you is, L. Especially after something as triggering as a nightmare. Okay? It’s okay.” There was a pause and then Virgil spoke again, much more muffled and clearly not to Logan. “Turn left here please. Thank you.”

Logan sank back into the cushions, staying curled in the tight ball from earlier.

“My car is about to pull on your street, L.” Virgil’s voice was as patient as ever. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to hang up for right now, okay?”

Logan gave a quiet murmur in response. He wiped his tears away a third time, and this time, they didn’t replenish and undo all his hard work.

There was a knock on his front door and then a creak as it opened. And even though he knew it was Virgil, even though he knew it wasn’t him, Logan's heart stopped and his entire body froze.

“Logan?”

The voice helped. The knock on his bedroom door did as well simply because Janus had never bothered.

“Logan? Can I come in?”

Logan swallowed. “Y-yeah.”

“Can I turn on the light? More than just your bedside lamp I mean.”

Yes, please, thank you thank you thank you-

“Yeah.”

He blinked blearily against the sudden shine from above, choosing to curl away from it rather than towards it. There was a sudden sinking in the bed behind him and Logan refroze immediately.

“Logan, can I touch you?” The voice cracked in the middle of the sentence but came much stronger at the end. A kind of firmness that came to it only when someone was desperately trying not to fall apart.

He didn’t want to upset Virgil.

“I don’t think so,” he whispered. “At the moment, I believe it’ll resend me into a state of panic.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”

Logan didn’t. But he had finally managed to stop crying, and his therapist had told him that talking was helpful. So he opened his mouth and launched into it, leaving out only the things that he still couldn’t handle passing his lips. And by the end of it, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his chest, especially as Virgil muttered darkly;

“I’ll cut his fucking hands off.” He twitched, which Logan only was sure occurred because the entire bed moved with him. “Sorry. Still not helpful. You know everything you feel right now is normal, right Logan? Revisiting a memory like that…” Virgil swallowed. “You’re very brave.”

Logan wiped his eyes again and slowly unfurled from his ball and flipped over to meet the watery eyes of his boyfriend. Virgil smiled sadly, and his hands twitched towards him before they were firmly placed in his lap.

Logan cleared his throat. “Above the waist is fine. And not… not my face.”

A very very dark look crossed Virgil’s face but it was banished just as quickly. Logan closed his eyes as a hand gently landed on his shoulder and smoothed light circles into his sweat nightshirt. The motion helped steady him, and Logan matched his breaths to the rhythm, slowly evening everything out.

He moved and the hand froze in place. Logan slowly drew himself up and collapsed onto Virgil’s side, ducking his head onto Virgil’s chest and curling two arms around his middle.

Slowly, uncertainly, Virgil wrapped an arm around Logan. He was very careful to keep his touch to his chest, one arm curling to hold him around his back and the other gently falling beside it.

“Sorry I woke you up,” Logan whispered.

“Oh, shut up.” Virgil’s tone was as light as he could make it with the rumble of empathy behind it. “I always want to be woken up for this, L.”

Logan’s arm tightened around Virgil and he buried his face into Virgil’s chest.

He didn’t know how long they lay there. How long he concentrated on evening out his breathing, how long he worked to stifle the memories that kept threatening to overflow him, but he knew eventually his concentration lay not with Janus- not fully at least- but rather with the slickness covering him.

Slowly, Logan pushed from Virgil’s chest so he was sitting up on his bed. With one arm, he dried off what was left on his face and reached for his glasses on the nightstand.

Virgil watched him with cautious, adoring eyes. Just the look of him helped Logan to breathe.

“I’m…” Logan shoved the glasses up his nose. “I believe the next best step would be for me to take a shower. I’m currently a mess.”

“You’re beautiful,” Virgil said sincerely. Logan fixated him with a look and a bit of a smile appeared on Virgil’s face. “I mean, you look a bit ruffled, but I still find you adorable.”

Logan slowly leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss to Virgil’s lips. Virgil responded carefully, slowly. His hands remained by his sides and he let Logan lead them through it until Logan pulled back.

“Thank you,” Logan murmured.

Virgil swallowed noisily. “Of course. Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll see if I can find something in your refrigerator to eat?”

Logan nodded.

His shower was as hot as he could make it without burning his skin, and he got the feeling as he scrubbed, that he wasn’t just trying to remove the fine layer of crusted water and salt spread across his skin.

Once he was out, Logan changed into a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of long pajama pants. He glanced over at the clock and winced.

4:07 in the morning.

Tomorrow- or rather today, Logan supposed- would be quite the thing to work through.

He shuffled into his kitchen and found Virgil setting pancakes out across it. Logan blinked.

“I wasn’t aware I had ingredients for pancakes.”

“I bought you that mix where you just add water about three months ago.” Virgil raised his eyebrows. “It hadn’t been opened yet.”

Logan shrugged.

While the two of them ate, Virgil launched into a story about the animal shelter he worked at, going into unnecessary detail over a dog who had bitten a stick in a bad enough way to get it stuck in between his teeth and the work Virgil had to do to get it out.

Logan had never been more appreciative of Virgil than he was at that moment.

When they finished eating, Virgil dropped off the plates in Logan’s sink. Logan watched him with large glassy eyes and Virgil swallowed thickly, a hand reaching out for him that froze halfway there.

“Can I-”

“You can touch me.” Logan cleared his throat. “Anywhere- Anywhere is fine.”

Hands curled into his hair and Virgil gently hugged Logan’s head to his stomach. Logan wrapped both of his arms around Virgil's waist and let out a long breath.

“I love you,” Logan whispered.

The hands tightened around him. “I love you too.”

[gendercraft]

When I Fell Overboard [Chapter Eight: Never Been The Type To Trust]

Read on ao3

Synopsis: Sebastian struggles with his relationship with Maru as she strives to get close to him. Meanwhile, he and Elliott get closer and closer.

Trigger warnings: Panic attacks, fighting, snapping, potentially unsympathetic Robin, crying, food mention, let me know if I missed anything please

Fall came around full force. Nearly overnight, the leaves turned red and orange and yellow, crisp breeze carrying them across the cobble walkways. Pierre and Caroline had Abigail help them hang a huge sign above their entranceway advertising their ‘one of a kind’ and ‘Joja-free’ pumpkin seeds. Gus brought out a new menu, similarly pumpkin themed, but Sebastian couldn’t say he hated the spiced pumpkin mead. 

He and Elliott spent most days together. Any time he had to pull himself away, either to get some alone time or catch up with Abigail and Sam, they stood behind Elliott’s closed door with their arms wrapped around each other, Sebastian safely cradled against Elliott as they promised to meet again soon. 

Sebastian was falling hard. Every time he saw Elliott, he couldn’t help but smile. Elliott would do something small, like whisper an “aha!” when he figured out how to fix a plot hole, or accidentally burnt himself with his raspberry tea, or made too many crab cakes and had to share, and all Sebastian could think was, “I love you.” 

It was becoming a little bit of a problem. Elliott showed no signs of feeling the same way, gave Sebastian no hints, nothing to work off of. He eventually broke and spent a good twenty minutes venting to Sam and Abigail, who stared at each other, and then him, and then each other, then Sam sighed and left the room. 

“What’s his problem?” Sebastian asked, face hot. 

“You. You’re an idiot.” Abigail grabbed her drumsticks. “Come on, if we start he’ll come back in.” 

Abigail was spending a suspicious amount of time with Maru. Occasionally Abigail would come over while Sebastian was working and stay shut inside Maru’s room until he finished, sometimes for hours. There was an awful lot of laughing, though Sebastian couldn’t understand why. 

He eventually accepted that if she and Abigail were going to be friends, Maru and Sebastian had to be a little more than civil. Not quite friends themselves, but close. So when Maru reached out, he forced himself to stop snapping back. He still didn’t like that she was so insistent on them having a good relationship, didn’t understand why she didn’t already have enough—you’re stealing my best friend and you want me, too?—but he had to let it go. He couldn’t lose Abigail. He’d die. 

“Is it cool if I invite Maru with us to the saloon tonight?” Abigail asked during band practice one day. 

“Sure,” Sebastian mumbled. “Oh, and Elliott gave the okay for next week.” Sebastian asked if the three of them could use his cabin to rehearse one day so they could see how their songs would sound how they were meant to, on the piano. 

“Awesome.” Sam plugged his guitar into the amp with a wicked grin. “I am ready to give my mom a headache.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes. 

After practice, they headed out to the saloon, an order of pizza and a round of beers already waiting for them. Sam gave Shane a cheerful wave and a smile, who returned it with a grunt. 

Abigail hopped onto Journey of the Prairie King, cussing the arcade machine out while Sebastian killed Sam in pool. Elliott showed up to drink his share of the beer and wrap his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders from behind. Sebastian blushed under everyone’s stares, but couldn’t bring himself to push Elliott away. It always made Sebastian so happy when Elliott touched him, a feeling of me, he’s choosing me. He could have anyone else right now and he’s choosing me.

It was hard to push aside the dread piercing Sebastian’s stomach when Maru came through the saloon doors. He focused on the game, not meaning to ignore her but trying to act casual and, well, taking it too far. 

“Hey, Sebastian.” Maru smiled. 

He glanced up. “Hey.” 

They stared for a moment, then Maru stepped aside to join Abigail at the machine. 

“So how are things going with you?” Elliott asked, giving him space to shoot. 

Sebastian bent over the table slightly with his pool cue. His tongue poked between his lips as he analyzed the set up, then moved and shot, hitting three of his balls into the holes and knocking aside two of Sam’s. 

“Damnit!” Sam side. “Fuck, Seb.”

Sebastian grinned. Then he remembered Elliott’s question and it faded. “Right. Um… fine, I guess? I mean, she’s here, right?” 

Elliott nodded slowly. “Right… is she still asking for your help with the robot?” 

“Yeah. Every other day, pretty much.”

“Why don’t you help her?” He rested a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. 

“She doesn’t need my help,” Sebastian muttered. 

“I think she does,” Elliott said gently. 

Sebastian shook his head and leaned against the pool table while Sam considered his move with a snail’s pace. 

“What does it matter?” Sebastian asked in frustration. “I thought you were staying out of it, remember?”

Elliott smiled nervously. “Right.” 

They played a little while longer, until Sebastian won and they were all tipsy. They stumbled out the saloon doors, milling around for a second while they figured out who was going with who. 

“Did you still want to see those videos of the Stardew caves?” Abigail asked, shyer than usual. 

Maru nodded with a smile. “I have a good computer. Wanna spend the night?”

She nodded. “Sebastian, you coming?” 

“Uh…” He glanced to Elliott, tipsy enough to allow the hope to show plainly on his face. 

Elliott laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist. “You can spend the night with me. You know I never mind.” 

“Well, I’m going to my own house,” Sam said, holding his hands up. “Have fun.” 

Maru, Abigail, and Elliott laughed, and they all split ways. Sebastian slipped his hand into Elliott’s when they were out of sight. 

Elliott smiled at him. “Want me to read to you when we get home, my dear?” 

Home. 

Home home home. 

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah.” 

Then Sebastian saw it. He looked up and Elliott was smiling softly, his brows relaxed, eyes sparkling. He was… happy to see Sebastian. 

Elliott chuckled. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Sebastian murmured. “Just…” He bit his lip. How could he say this? He forced the words out, “just… happy to… to be… you know, to be with- with you.” 

Elliott brightened. “That is so sweet! Sebastian!” He squeezed his hand as they stepped onto the beach, kicking sand as they went. “Before we head inside, do you want to go on a walk?” 

With the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in his head and the moon hanging above them, there was absolutely nothing Sebastian would rather do. He nodded. 

They strolled along the sand, headed towards the tidepools on the other side of the beach. When they arrived, Elliott broke off, and Sebastian missed holding his hand but it was worth it to watch him run around the tidepools, picking up shells and holding them to the starlight. He came over to Sebastian with a small, smooth black and purple shell and held it out to him. 

“Reminds me of you,” he said sheepishly, and that was it, Sebastian was in love. 

He cradled it in his hands, staring up at Elliott with the widest grin. 

Kiss him. 

Sebastian’s grin weakened. He couldn’t do that. He could never do that. What if he read everything wrong, and Elliott didn’t like him at all? Sebastian wouldn’t survive the embarrassment—or the guilt, if Elliott didn’t feel the same but kissed him anyway to spare Sebastian’s heart. 

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” Elliott said softly. He stepped closer and fit his hand into Sebastian’s. He cupped Sebastian’s face. “I always have a good time with you.”

Sebastian couldn’t speak, just smiled up at him, eyes damn near close to watering. 

“I was worried, with Maru being there. You guys always have so much- so much friction, and I know it upsets you. I don’t want anything to upset you. Maru is truly trying though, and it means a lot that—” 

He stopped. His face flushed, eyes widening. 

“I mean…” 

Sebastian frowned. “What are you talking about? What does that mean?” 

“No, nothing.” He brushed Sebastian’s hair back. “It was nothing.”

Sebastian took a step back. His hands trembled. “Have you been talking to Maru?” 

He hesitated. “Sebastian…” 

“Have you been talking to Maru?” He asked harder. “You promised you wouldn’t meddle in my relationships.” 

“I- I know. And I’m sorry. But after we started getting close, she came to me, and she was so upset, Bastian-”

Sebastian shook his head, eyes squeezed closed. The shell fell to the sand. “You promised me. Why would you… I can’t believe you’d…” 

“Please don’t be upset,” he begged. He stepped closer, and Sebastian stumbled back. “I just want you to be happy.” 

“That’s none of your business!” Sebastian exploded. “I told you not to get involved, it’s none of your business whether Maru and I get along or not! I can’t believe you’d- you’d-” 

Fuck, now his eyes were watering. Shit. He shook his head and turned, stumbling over the tidepools. 

“Sebastian! Wait!” 

“Just leave me alone, Elliott!” 

He stormed away. 

He was grateful it was so cold, because his body was hot, sweat pin-pricking his brow. He slammed the door open to his house and stormed towards Maru’s room. He banged on the door until she answered. 

“Sebastian?” Her anger faded. “What is it?” 

“I can’t believe you’d talk to Elliott behind my back,” he snapped. “You’re really so desperate to have a relationship with me that you’d trick me into it?” 

“Seb?” Abigail peeked over Maru’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

He couldn’t even get the words out anymore. Part of him knew he was overreacting, knew he’d regret this, but his stomach boiled and his chest was tight and he was so, so angry, so upset that Elliott and Maru would… 

He squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Sebastian, you need to breathe,” Abigail said firmly. 

Her cold hands cupped his face. He blinked his teary eyes open. 

“Whatever you’re mad about, it’s okay,” she soothed. “You can figure it out.” 

He turned and hurried away. He barely managed to get his bedroom door shut and locked before he sank to the ground, hands trembling and body numb. 

He’d never been the type to trust people. In all honesty, he probably doomed his and Demetrius’ relationship from the start. Maybe he doomed his and Elliott’s, as well. 

All he knew is he didn’t trust Elliott anymore, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

[ladyinsertnamehere]

Pelt

tw: unsympathetic Patton, abuse, Logan attempts to drown himself but is saved at the last minute, feel free to let me know what I should add

“Logie-bear!” The singsongy voice piped up behind him. His captor - er, his ‘boyfriend’ - was running down the length of the pier. Logan stared back down at his feet dangling over the edge, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the tall lanky figure that sat down next to him. “Whatcha doin’ out here?” Patton asked, putting his hand on Logan’s leg. “You shouldn’t be out here anyway - what would happen if you fell?”

Well, that was a good point. The water was a good way down, and Logan wasn’t sure he could swim in such deep waters. Well, he could, just not without —

Logan yelped as Patton squeezed his knee. He removed Patton’s hand from his leg and started swinging his feet more violently, staring at the crashing waves several feet below.

How he longed to be back down there, surrounded by icy water yet unfazed as the chill nipped at his nose. Twisting and gliding through the briny sea. He missed the feeling of fish scales in his sharp teeth. He ached for the feeling of transforming back. If only he could find his —

“Alright, Logie-Bogie, it’s time to go home.” Patton pulled on Logan’s sleeveless arm and heaved him back onto the beach.

The next evening, Logan was out on the beach, picking up shells and running his fingers over them, before tossing them back onto the sand. As he leaned down to pick up one in particular, another hand reached out at the same time.

“Oh! Sorry.”

“Ah, it’s okay, no problem.”

The stranger was pale as could be, with shoulder-length brown hair that had blond highlights peppered throughout. His lips were framed with a thin pencil mustache and prickly chin fuzz. His swimming trunks were lime green, and his legs were so dirty that you couldn’t tell where the sand ended and the freckles began. And his voice - OH! His VOICE! - it was so warm and deep, and so NICE.

Logan couldn’t just stand there, he had to do or say something. He looked down at the shell in his hands. “Ah! I suppose you...need this, don’t you?” he said, handing it to the stranger.

“Oh, no thanks, actually,” the stranger refused, “This one’s empty, I’m lookin’ for clams. You could keep it, if you like.”

Logan smiled as he scratched his fingernail along the ridges of the shell. This is something he liked doing since he was little. He’d come up onto the beach for an hour or so, and feel the shells in his hands. Then he’d return to the sea just in time for supper. Well, at least he did, until someone stole his —

“You’re the son of one of the fishermen, aren’t you?” Logan remembered, and the stranger nodded, pursing his lips. “Cool,” said Logan, and he stared down at the shell, shyly.

“Lo-Lo!” Patton’s voice called from a several yards away, “Who’s that you’re with? Do you know him?”

“Sorry, I’ve gotta go!” Logan turned and ran towards Patton as the stranger shouted a farewell at him.

Patton gripped Logan’s arm forcefully and scolded through his teeth, “WHAT did I tell you about speaking to strange boys?” Logan muttered an apology as his captor - no, boyfriend - dragged him home.

A few days after that, Patton had taken Logan to a small diner. Not a fancy restaurant in the slightest, just a joint on the boardwalk where you could get soda and burgers and fries, even a milkshake if you had the money. Patton was in the bathroom and Logan was scrunching and stretching his dark blue tee that he begged Patton to get him. The movement of the fabric reminded him of the sea, and the shirt was soft and form-fitting enough that it reminded him of his —

“Clam man!” Logan exclaimed happily as the stranger he met a few days ago slid into the booth opposite him.

“Well, I usually go by Remus,” he laughed, as Logan’s heart skipped a beat, “But clam man is fine too.”

“Oh,” Logan had just remembered he never introduced himself to Remus, “I’m Logan.” He extended his hand to shake.

For the next few minutes they exchanged pleasantries and talked about Remus’s father’s fishing business and Remus going out day after day to collect clams. Soon Patton came back from the bathroom and slid into the booth next to Logan. “Oh! Who’s this, Logie-poo?” Patton asked, making Remus giggle. “I met him on the beach the other day,” Logan explained, “His name’s Remus.”

“‘sa pleasure to meet you, mister...”

“Patton,” he finished Remus’s sentence, “Call me Patton. I assume you’ve met my Logie-Bear?”

Logan zoned out while the two of them spoke, leg bouncing. He looked intently at the salt and pepper shakers and tried to remember the home he had lost so long ago. He forced himself to imagine clearly the twisting and turning of the fish in the water. It has been so long that Logan was struggling to remember what it felt like. Oh, he desperately needed to find and steal back his —

“Yeah, my brother Roman doesn’t really care for the family business, so he’s gone into fashion design, and I’m really proud of him. He even runs a little shop not far from here that specializes in plus-sized clothing -“

“Oh!” Patton squeaked, then turned to his boyfriend, “Y’hear that, Lo-lo?” He playfully squished his boyfriend’s pudge. Logan had to bite his hand to keep from laughing - if Patton knew it tickled, he wasn’t going to stop tickling him.

“Hey, I’ve got a fabric that your brother would LOVE,” Patton told Remus, “It’s the most beautiful sealskin you’ll ever see!”

Logan’s heart caught in his throat. Sealskin. Patton wasn’t a hunter, and he didn’t keep sealskin around the house, except for Logan’s pe—

“Oh, no, no, his clothes are a strictly ethical line. No animal skin.”

“Awh, bummer,” Patton sounded genuinely dejected, “but I understand where he’s coming from.”

Before Logan had time to breathe a sigh of relief, Patton piped up again: “Hey, even if he won’t take it, I’m sure you can wrap it around you to protect you from the cold?”

Remus refused, but Patton persisted. Logan’s breath quickened. He excused himself from the table, bolted out the door and made a beeline for the pier.

He stripped off his shirt and his shoes and his pants as he made his way toward the water. Even if he couldn’t go home, maybe he’d just...drown. He steadied himself a few seconds and took one final breath before he jumped —

And got pulled right back again. Remus had followed him out, and had grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around Logan.

“Woah, there, buddy,” Remus exclaimed as he hauled Logan back into the pier. “Something wrong?”

Logan tried to say something calmly, but he could already feel tears streaming down his cheeks. “I just wanna go home,” he sobbed.

“Alright,” Remus replied softly, “I’ll get Patton and-“

“NO!” Logan exclaimed. Remus was clearly not understanding him. “Not home with Patton!” He stared out into the sea, sobbing more, “I want to go home.”

Logan had been looking away from Remus, but it was almost as if he heard it click for him. His father had told him about selkies, and he himself had caught a glimpse of one transforming once. “Oh. Well,” Remus put his hand in Logan’s, “Looks like I’ll have to take Patton up on his offer for that...um, sealskin.”

“You will be doing no such thing,” came a startlingly firm voice from behind. Patton had finally decided to catch up to the two of them. He grabbed Remus by the shoulders and hauled him into the water below.

“NO!” Logan screamed, watching him fall. Patton forcefully took his boyfriend’s hand and dragged him back along the pier.

Patton threw Logan into the house and slammed the door.

“What was that?” Patton’s voice was no longer sweet and friendly. “How DARE you betray me like that?”

Logan stuttered and stammered but was met with a hard slap to the face. Patton did NOT look happy.

“Go get some clothes on, and STAY in that room until I let you out!” Patton ordered. Fearing more violence, Logan scurried into the shared bedroom.

They both heard the knock at the door - Patton from the kitchen, and Logan muffled from the bedroom. Logan then heard the door be opened, someone being slammed against a wall, and then shouts and threats he couldn’t understand. Soon, the bedroom door clicked open, and Remus barged in, knelt down by the bed, and hauled out a safe from under it. He twisted the combination lock back and forth until it clicked and opened the door. He tossed the fuzzy mass of grey towards Logan.

His pelt!

Remus grasped Logan’s hand, and Logan immediately understood that it was time for them to run now.

Remus led him through the living room where Logan saw a similar-looking man (most likely Remus’s brother) pinning a fighting Patton to the wall in anger. Logan didn’t have much time to see the blood dripping out of Patton’s nose before hurrying out the door.

The two of them made it to the beach, and only then did Remus turn to Logan.

“Take your clothes off.”

“What?”

“Oh - I can turn away if you want. Take your clothes off so you can slip your skinsuit on.”

“Don’t call it that.”

“Just start taking your shirt off.” Remus handed Logan the seal pelt and turned away, covering his eyes with his hands.

Logan did as he was told, taking off his shirt and his pants and his underwear and pulling the pelt on over his legs. The velvety skin fit snugly over his body, just like it did when he first came out of the water.

“Hey,” Logan suddenly said. Remus turned around, hand still over his eyes, though peeking through his fingers.

“What’s gonna happen to Patton?”

“I’ll deal with the legal repercussions later.”

“I can’t just leave you here like that.”

“It’ll be okay, maybe we’ll see each other again some time.”

Logan paused a moment. “I guess...thank you.”

Remus smiled in return.

Remus watched as Logan pulled the pelt the rest of the way up. The stretch marks on his stomach and sides lined up perfectly with the dark spots on the sealskin. Logan waddled a little way into the water, pulled the skin over his head, and dove into the sea.

[babysizedfics]

Poor roman :( but that being said I am heka interested in 5

remus humiliates roman in front of jamal (but jamal is a sweetheart)

vote from this concept voting post!

TWs: swearing, emotional humiliation, arguing, remus is generally pretty mean in this - not "unsympathetic" but his behaviour is not ok, brief alcohol mention but it isnt a main feature

first some background info on remus and ro:

roman and remus' friend groups actually run parallel to each other by pure councidence in that theyre the same age and are both in the local queer scene

usually they only run into each other on nights out and avoid each other like the plague... until one of romans friends and one of remus' friends become a very serious couple and the friendship groups merge

remus tends to hang it over romans head whenever they argue or remus just feels like teasing him that he could so so easily spill romans secret littlespace to all his friends

and while roman claims to not care he also really doesnt want that to happen, especially the specific things remus threatens to reveal (namely him calling his cgs mommy and daddy, and his fear of the dark - which remus knows are romans biggest embarrassments)

and remus never USUALLY actually follows through on his threats, he loves to freak roman out but he doesnt mean to be intentionslly cruel.

but one night theyve had an argument recently and remus is out to hurt roman and finally follows through on his threat to reveal romans secrets. in front of jamal

((the actual incident below the cut))

all the friends are walking back from a night out, and remus hangs back from the group to talk to jamal. roman is just glaring at remus and not saying anything and holding jamals hand tightly. remus hasnt embarrassed him too bad so far, just asking jamal questions and referring to roman as his "baby brother" which is so annoying, but the thing is roman can tell hes building up to something

then suddenly remus smirks when he sees a completely pitch black side street thats theyre about to pass by, and he calls out to everyone "hey guys, there's a 24/7 mcdonalds through here and its a shortcut to the bus stop" and everyones like WOO mcdonalds and redirects to go down the side street

and romans heart pounds watching the friends all filter down the street without a second thought, theres no streetlights down there, theres light on the other side quite far away, but before that its SO DARK. and he freezes in place and jamal is tugged back by it and looks back at him. "babe, come on"

romans starting to feel shaky and he literally cant move his feet. his eyes flick between the street and remus' sadistic cocky smirk.

"whats wrong baby bro? you stuck or something?" remus leers with that stupid stupid smirk

and roman HATES him so so much

"ro, what's the matter?" jamal asks

"i- um," roman stutters, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much at the sight of his friends just having DISAPPEARED into the darkness - how are they okay with that?? "i- im not hungry"

"okay well i am, and remus said it was a shortcut anyway so-"

"i-i -- no i can't"

seraphina, romans best friend, looks back and notices whats happening and quickly jogs over (knowing roman is scared of the dark) "hey roma, it's okay we dont have to go down there" she soothes

jamal is supportive but he doesnt get it. he thinks roman is scared of criminals or smth. "i promise theres no one bad down there, hun. and i'll be right next to you the whole time, i'll protect you" and he smiles and tugs romans hand to pull him towards the side street

romans eyes quickly tear up and he panics and rambles "nononono dont please please i cant i cant" in a broken voice and plants his feet firmly on the ground, paralysed with fear

remus starts cackling "ohhhhh thats right~" as if he just remembered. "my baby brother's terrified of the dark, isn't he?"

"f*ck off, re" sera barks, standing between the twins, protective of roman

"wait, are you?" jamal asks sounding surprised. roman doesnt let himself look at him, too busy watching remus warily and knowing thats not all he has planned to embarrass roman

remus goes on, shouting out to jamal over sera's head "he's petrified!" he confirms sounding delighted. "yknow that massive blackout last summer? he cried like a baby. literally sobbing for his daddy patton to make it go away"

theres a brief silence because no, sera and jamal didnt expect remus to refer to patton as romans daddy - they both know roman calls him dad but this is a surprise.

and that one second of silence drags on for ages for roman, all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears and remus' obnoxious laughter

he is shaking, frozen in shock rather than fear now. for all of remus' teasing threats at home, he didnt expect remus to actually do it. hes devastated and humiliated that remus told to his best friend and especially his BOYFRIEND of all ppl

and honestly he's not even thinking about the pitch black side street right now because the streetlights on the main road are blurred by tears welling in his eyes anyway

"why dont you just leave him alone!" sera hisses furiously after her mild shock

then jamal bounces back rlly stern to remus "yeah i already know about that! roman told me and it was HIS choice to tell me"

roman stares at him in disbelief but jamal is too busy staring daggers at remus to notice

remus looks suddenly offended and frowns. hes clearly hurt that the others dont think its funny "jeez youre both such bores. im just having some fun"

"youre demented if you think thats fun" seraphina growls and shoves remus away towards the sidestreet. remus rolls his eyes and runs ahead to join the others who are all oblivious to that coversation, howling with drunken laughter in the pitch black and jumping out and scaring each other

"f*cking prick" jamal calls after remus, seething

sera quickly throws a concerned look to roman "you okay?"

roman just swallows thickly and looks between seraphina and where he saw remus join the others in the pitch black. his stomach churns at the idea of remus telling more people. "i-is he gonna--"

"im on it" sera nods and starts turning around "i wont let him tell anyone else, roma, promise" then she runs ahead to keep an eye on remus and to give him and jamal some privacy

after a moment jamal turns back to roman looking so worried and holds his hands and asks very gently "babe, can you tell me how youre feeling?"

and roman is teary but he whispers "i - you stuck up for me"

jamal looks suddenly sad and cups romans cheek "of course i did"

"but you said i told you about it. i- i didnt tell you that i-" roman gulps after his voice wobbles "i didnt tell you about it"

and jamal smiles sadly and goes "i know babe... im sorry, i just didnt wanna give him any more power. it seemed like he's held that over you for a while"

suddenly the tears in romans eyes overspill and he doesnt really know why but he can't stop them

jama gasps a little "oh roman, its ok" and just pulls him into a tight hug

roman clings and sniffles, glad that he can hide his tears from his boyfriend even if it is in his neck.

and jamal just strokes his back and whispers "its ok baby, its ok" **

they talk about it quietly as they take the longer, well-lit route instead. roman admits he would never have told jamal abt his fear on his own - and the reason he's been avoiding staying overnight at jamals apartment is bc the one time he did he got so scared of the dark that he couldnt sleep and was just anxious all night but wouldnt wake jamal to tell him

after jamal finds out hes like baby why didnt u tell me its okay and comforts him about it not being embarrassing or childish. then:

"so you do actually want to stay at mine, its just because its so dark that you didnt?"

roman nods shyly "yeah... im sorry i know its a dumb fear i just-"

"its not dumb ro. i meant to say if it works for you, we could leave the hall light on and the door open. its not like i live with anyone who can walk in."

roman blinks "wait you - really? it wont make it hard for you to sleep?"

jamal smiles softly "no hun, honestly i could sleep anywhere. i fell asleep in the middle of the day in the staffroom just last month"

roman laughs, so so so relieved

"so... maybe next time you come over for dinner you could stay the night, yeah?" jamal says with a smile and a blush. he wraps his arm around romans waist and pulls him in, hip to hip

roman bites his lip and blushes. after a moment he suggests shyly "im free tonight..."

and jamal smiles so big, stops walking and puts his arm up to romans chest to stop him too then angles romans jaw down to kiss him

in the near future jamal promises to buy a plain nightlight and always leaves it on for roman when he stays overnight from then on

**side note: roman could never stand anyone calling him baby before because he felt infantilised at school becaus of his undiagnosed adhd. so he sees it as a derogatory name more than anything. but when jamal says it roman feels so warm and respected because he knows jamal would never mean it in that way. so jamal has "baby" rights basically

[magpiemorality]

Remus vs. His Birthday

Long post is long, keep reading isn’t working sorry all!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, gore, murder, nsfw things; unfriendly Remus (he’s just antagonistic not unsympathetic); Remus being rude about the nsfs tag (not an opinion the author holds).

AO3

***

What exactly was the point, Remus wondered, of a birthday? Was it a celebration of cheating death? A consolation prize for getting through another solar rotation of mundane life? An apology to everyone in your life for existing? 

Yeah Remus wasn’t sold. Why would you bother? If it was a celebration why celebrate only once a year, when society told you you could, rather than whenever life was actually worth celebrating? Why not impose yourself on all days, or better yet forget days were a thing at all? 

(That last part sounded like Janus when he was on one of his society-is-a-con rants but Remus liked the idea. And the rants. They were pretty fun to listen to.)

Today was, apparently, Remus’ birthday, for all that meant to him. The real issue was that, irritatingly, it meant something to everyone else. And before this year, specifically this year, that would have meant squat. But this damn year it meant plans. 

Plans were another thing Remus didn’t see the point of. Why think about future things when you could think about now things and just do them? He was all impulse, by design, and sticking to a plan was incomprehensible and pretty revolting to think about, torture plain and simple for a creature like him. 

Remus seethed at the very concept, staring daggers at the envelope that had dropped into his home in the subconscious. Literal daggers, shredding the cheerful mint green paper of it with vicious pleasure, until the daggers were just thudding into the floor underneath and he got distracted playing target practice with various shadows of particularly nasty thoughts that crept through the dark corners down where he lived. 

Daggers exhausted and eyes back to normal, he collapsed into the blow up armchair he so adored (mostly because it made brilliant fart-like noises whenever he shifted around) and wondering if plotting went against his moral stance on plans. He felt like plotting. He felt like not celebrating his birthday thank you very much. 

Unfortunately the next thing to drop in was much more Thomas-shaped, and it dusted itself off nonchalantly while he considered a return to the dagger-eyes. 

“J-anus.”

“Remus. Must we be like that?” Janus asked with his very carefully crafted snobbish distaste. “I come in peace.”

“Wish you’d come in pieces. That would’ve been much more fun,” Remus muttered, and as he blinked at the other side body parts started to drop piece by piece around his intruder. Janus glanced down at the first and hid a delicate shudder, returning his gaze to Remus’ face and steadfastly holding it there. Remus dropped a nose on his shoulder just to spite him. He could appreciate a good pun as well as the next side. 

Janus cleared his throat. “We would like to celebrate your birthday. It’s not entirely, ah, a birthday party, per se? But Logan predicts the fans might celebrate for you, and Thomas will naturally be unable not to think of you much. The invitation was more of a heads up.”

“Attention? On moi? I’ll have to dress appropriately. Birthday suit is only right!”

“Remus-”

“What? Don’t approve? It’s not even my birthday, Snake Bell. They’re just something Daddy latched onto to make his dreams of normality come true. Besides, it’s not like anyone wants me front of mind- where worse to have your darkest thoughts after all?” 

“That’s not the point.”

“Ah, points. I was thinking about those. I think the more the better-” he grinned, twirling his hand and summoning his morning star into it “-but this has precisely none. I don’t want to celebrate it. No one else wants to celebrate it. Drop it there, or I’ll drop you all one by one off a tall building. Or maybe the plank. Now pirates, there’s a fun aesthetic...”

Clearly the conversation wasn’t going the way Janus wanted because he looked visibly frustrated, pulling his hat off to rake a hand through his hair with a little scowl marring his- well, half of his face. If Remus took a meat-cleaver down the centre of his skull he wouldn’t have matching halves. Ooh, Heathers. Now there was another fun aesthetic. Imagine turning up to the joke of a celebration in a cutesy prep school outfit complete with croquet mallet. Hammer. Thing. Remus wasn’t sure of the name, but it didn’t have any points so meh. Maybe it could be a fun experiment, like the Riverdale Heathers episode, which Remus had only experienced through the triple layer disconnect of Thomas watching it and unwittingly handing it over to Janus to hide down in the subconscious where all the other undesirable memories, experiences and miscellaneous things lived. Like Remus! 

But he was losing focus, and Janus was still there. Ugh.

“Just be prepared, alright? It would be highly appreciated if you didn’t just show up and antagonise Thomas on the one day he’s allowing you up front. I know it’s hard but just... ix-nay on the eath-day, ex-say and ore-gay?”

“Ooh, ore-gay, or orgy? Did you mean to say orgy?” Remus grinned sharply and Janus’ remaining composure dribbled away. 

He muffled a scream into his gloved hands before glaring once more at Remus. “Just behave. Or I will put you back here, and you will stay here until even the memory of you has faded, understood?”

Remus’ mouth clicked shut and he nodded, eyes narrowed balefully under the scorching threat. “Understood. But next time you feel the need to threaten me with hiding again, maybe don’t do it in my own home, hm?”

“Wha-”

“Bye Felicia.” The sound of Janus’ screech as he was shot upwards by a giant tentacle and shoved back through the ceiling to where he belonged was like music to Remus’ ears. Scream music. Oh, how interesting, what if he took screamo music and put it to actual screams?! 

~

It was such a good idea that he forgot about his ‘birthday’ entirely while focused on his project until the next day, when the tugging started. It was gentle at first, just the odd prod, like a big finger was occasionally checking his responses. Like he was a tiny lab rat in a giant world, and boy did that one hit a little too close to home. Home here being allofhisgreatestfearsatonce. 

He didn’t want to answer the call, he really didn’t, but... Remus was curious, and impulse won out as always. Because why not go look? Why not go see? Who cared how it turned out- the fun was in the spontaneity, in the doing. 

Thomas standing with a faintly amused smile was not what he’d have expected had he expected anything at all. But Thomas standing with a faintly amused smile was what awaited Remus topside, out in the full force of consciousness. It burned, being here, and Remus was reminded once more that in many ways he’d not been imprisoned down below for everyone else’s safety but also his own. Damn the snake for his constant self-preservation. Remus wanted to be mad at him for leaving for once!

“Hi Remus,” Thomas greeted, that same amusement on his tone. And oh, yeah, he’d gone with the Heathers look after all. It was a warm summer day and skirts were nice and breezy, sue him. Remus struck a pose with the croquet... thing, and bared his sharp teeth. 

“Did you miss me? Oh you did miss me didn’t you. I can tell! You’re just so curious about me! Well-”

“Settle down,” Logan warned, and oh. Yuck, other sides. 

“Yeah why don’t you-” Remus screamed, high pitched and piercing, as his supposed twin’s voice came from right behind him, spinning and swinging and almost catching Roman in the face with the blunt weapon. Only Virgil’s quick reflexes managed to save him, leaping into the way to catch the head of the mallet like a baseball. Now baseball, there was an impulsive and dangerous sport. Why had they never taken up baseball? 

Oh that was right... 

“Well done Virgil!” Janus smiled. Because the snake said no. And Virgil said no. And when the two of them agreed even Dream Daddy had to comply. Whatever, it was never too late. The croquet mallet turned into a baseball bat as his thoughts flickered, but it was boring and not pointy enough, until he added the nails. 

Everyone flinched back slightly, even Thomas, and Remus hefted the weapon onto his shoulder with a proud jut to his chin. Good. 

Thomas looked uncertain but he tried again. “Um, that’s cool. Like from the Walking Dead?”

“Just like that! Who volunteers as zombie?!”

“Actually we had something else in mind!” Thomas interjected quickly, turning his phone around to show the screen. “Look, cool art!” 

Remus didn’t miss the glance Thomas sent around the other sides for approval, but he was soon distracted by the contents of the screen. He scrolled, and scrolled, and kept scrolling. Huh. This was, actually pretty cool stuff. Plenty of blood, gore, some sexy things. And all not just about him but for him. Interesting. 

Also this tumble thing was dreadfully good. He’d have to get one. Endlessly scrolling on a sea of blue was the perfect- aka worst- kind of instant gratification mixed with cybergothic horror that he’d always wanted to explore creatively not that Thomas would let him if he only understood more about it. 

Around the room the other sides and Thomas stood, waiting with bated breath to see what might happen. It had been a few minutes of silence, which had Janus’ jaw dropping open and Virgil shifting nervously on his feet. Roman busied himself looking over Remus’ shoulder and trying not to wince at the gross stuff as he appreciated the art himself. Finally it grew too much and Thomas had to know. He had to!

“Is it good? Do you like it? I think there’s a lot of cool stuff there but-”

“Did you know there was an explicit tag specifically for us?” Remus gasped in delight, before frowning. “Jeez, we get our own tag. How prudish are your audience Thomas?”

“And that’s enough of that!” The phone was neatly plucked from Remus’ fingers and tossed over by Roman, shrugging when Remus glared at him. “So what do you think, Remus? They all made that stuff because they wanted to celebrate you. Janus mentioned you don’t like birthdays, but-”

Remus held a hand up to shut him up. “Okay look, it’s not my birthday. But that stuff was pretty cool. Especially the naughty bits. So, uh, thanks I guess. Don’t get used to it but thanks. And now bye! I have zombies to kill. I need to perfect my Hollywood zombie strike for maximum blood spray and noise.” He blew a kiss and vanished in a pop of noxious gas, leaving poor Roman to gag and leap away before it could get on his clothes. 

Beneath them (figuratively) in the subconscious, Remus landed on a trampoline that instantly snapped to dump him on the floor with a thump, where he lay, stunned not from the fall but mostly from all the thoughtful and cool tributes to him he’d seen. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad. Maybe the point was to feel a little proud of yourself and who you were, and where you were in life. He was, maybe not entirely but certainly almost, a real functioning side in Thomas’ mind, not reduced to intrusive thoughts from time to time when the barriers wore thin. 

Also he had a nail-bat now. And a whole bunch of new ideas from the art he’d seen to try out too... Where to start?

Well, apparently he had a whole year to figure that out. 

-

Masterlist | Buymeacoffee

[callboxkat]

Those Long, Lonely Nights (part 2/6)

Author’s note: This is a retelling of the story These Deep Dark Woods, but from Roman’s perspective. I recommend reading that story first, but this can also stand alone.

Summary: Roman, a knight, insists on accompanying his best friend Logan, a potion maker, when he decides to head into the notoriously dangerous woods bordering their home to find some rare herbs and minerals for his apothecary. They find much more than they bargained for when they encounter Remus, a bloodthirsty giant. Logince. Angst with a happy ending.

Fic Warnings:  food mention, blood, injuries, death mention, killing mention, gun mention, mild body horror (it’s Remus), disturbing imagery (it’s Remus), character death, temporary/believed character death, kidnapping, guilt, attempted self sacrifice, talk of giants, vampires and other monsters. Very unsympathetic villain Remus.

Word Count: 3039

Part 1 : Part 3

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman and Logan planned to meet at the base of the South Tower, which was one of the four largest towers of the wall, home to both the largest concentrations of knights as well as the main tunnels leading out from the settlement. Other tunnels existed, but they were mainly used for emergencies. It was much easier to know who was in the woods and who had safely returned, or more importantly, who had not, when they all had to leave from one place.

Roman had gathered the supplies he normally took on missions beyond the settlement—his uniform, of course, and his sword, as well as a tent and a few other items that fit neatly in a pack slung across his shoulders. Roman also preferred to bring his own water. There were ways to tell if dark magic had polluted a water source, but Roman preferred to just assume none were safe.

He spotted Logan, with his ever-ridiculously straight posture, just beside the tunnel entrance. He, too, wore a pack over his shoulders, and it looked like he was wearing a pair of black leather gloves.

Roman swallowed his doubts about this ‘outing’ and put on a smile. “Hello!” he called.

“There you are,” Logan said, turning towards him. He waited while Roman jogged closer, pulling a pocket watch from his coat and checking the time. “I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten.”

Roman put a hand over his heart. “I would never! Are you ready to go?”

“Yes; I have been ready for nearly forty-five minutes.” Logan held up the pocket watch for emphasis.

“Excellent!”

The pair stepped into the tunnel, which was lit by more of those electric lanterns, with torches here and there as well, probably just in case the lanterns failed. Just past the entrance a handful of sentries stood, speaking with a group of traders and knights who appeared to be from one of the eastern settlements, waiting to get through with an armored cart laden with goods. One of the sentries checked off a few final things on his clipboard, nodded to his colleagues, and the group was allowed to pass.

“Ah, Sir Roman, you’re going beyond the wall?” one of them asked while the cart rattled down the passage.

“Good morning, Sir Rose! Yes, I will be accompanying the fine apothecarist here.”

She nodded, turning to a knew page on her clipboard and beginning to write. “How long do you plan to be gone?”

“At least until evening tonight,” Logan supplied. “Possibly until noon tomorrow.”

“I’ll put until tomorrow,” Sir Rose said. Her pen scratched on the paper. “And where will you be going?”

“I am collecting medicinal herbs, minerals, and other ingredients. Where I go will depend on their abundance and distribution.”

“Ah.” She hesitated.

“We won’t leave the southern woods,” Roman assured. “Walking distance, you know.”

The sentry nodded. “Try not to go too far in,” she suggested. “It’s easy to get turned around, and the monsters get more common the deeper you go.”

“Of course,” Logan said. “May we pass?”

“One more thing; I’ll just need an inventory of what you’re bringing out of the settlement. And I trust you both have weapons?”

Roman patted his sword, and Logan pulled aside his coat to show his dagger. Then, after a quick list of what was in their packs, plus an obligatory glance in each bag to confirm, and a signature from each of them, they were allowed to move on.

“I ought to bring you more often,” Logan commented as they made their way through the passage. “Normally it takes more than twice as long to be cleared to leave.”

“Thank you, I know I make an excellent travel partner.”

They continued on for a few seconds, walking over the smooth stone floor, their path lit by flameless lanterns and the opening of the tunnel exit beyond.

“…Hey, Logan?”

“Yes, Roman?”

“How does electricity work?”

…

That first day in the woods, they didn’t have many problems.

They came across a ghoul about a mile into their hike, which Roman quickly dispatched with a swing of his sword. It was satisfying, watching the thing crumble to dust. He even managed not to get any of the mess on his uniform—he loved how dashing it made him look, but it really was a pain to clean, sometimes. They also carefully avoided a pond which, at first glance, appeared perfectly normal, but seemed to glow faintly from within.

“I don’t think that was here last time I came this way,” Logan commented, sounding intrigued. “Although that was in early spring. Perhaps it is a seasonal feature? I would love to collect a sample.”

Roman scrunched up his nose, eyeing the too-inviting pond, and was quick to remind Logan that they were on a time limit. And Logan had to admit that poking around a likely cursed pond when they didn’t have to was probably not a smart idea. So, they avoided the pond.

Around noontime, Roman was pretty sure that he saw a pair of harpies in the distance, flying between the tallest trees near the top of the canopy, but they didn’t come too close. Roman probably wouldn’t have noticed them at all, had one of them not cast a shadow as they passed over a gap in the leaves.

Other times, they heard distant screeches or howls. It was faintly disturbing, but at least they could listen for if any of these signs of life came a little too close. Roman was very glad that they didn’t need to worry about ear protection: banshees stayed much further north at this time of year. It would have been much more difficult to keep watch for any trouble, if they had to stunt one of their senses. Even if it would also block out some of the creepiness.

Logan didn’t seem overly concerned about being in the woods, content to simply collect his potion ingredients; but he did keep his dagger ready. Roman kept post as guard watching the trees for movement. He wasn’t especially interested in the things Logan was collecting, but this mission as protective detail was much more exciting than standing post on the wall all day. And while this part of the woods seemed relatively empty, Roman did not like the idea of Logan out here alone. It only took one monster getting the drop on him. And Logan’s dagger was a far cry from a sword.

As the day wore on and they ventured further into the woods, seeking the specific materials Logan needed, things seemed to grow even quieter. Roman was relieved. Maybe Logan had been in the woods before, and maybe he claimed to be able to deal with monsters, but no one was ever truly safe beyond the wall. The fewer monsters around, the better.

They ended up going rather further in than Roman had intended them to go, but Logan pointed out that it had been hours since they’d last seen any kind of creature, and if they didn’t get everything he needed now, they would simply have to return. Roman couldn’t argue with that, so he followed along, keeping a look out. With how far in they went, Roman knew that they wouldn’t make good time to get back, and he did not want to wander the woods in the dark. It would be all too easy for something to sneak up in the dark, plus it would be incredibly embarrassing if Roman tripped over a root and fell on his face in front of Logan. They did have torches, but drawing less attention was always better this far from home.

Near sundown, they found clearing which had a decently flat floor, and decided to make camp for the night there. It was on the crest of a slight hill, which would give them an advantage if any monsters decided to come sniffing around in the dark. Logan had chosen the spot, although his reluctance at not continuing a little longer was clear. He and Roman both knew that it would be easier and safer to eat and set up their tent while they still had light, though, so he didn’t complain.

Soon, the tent was set up. The lantern within let off a cheery glow, flickering merrily, even if looming shadows still filled large swaths of the space. They only had one bedroll—Logan’s—since they planned to sleep in shifts. As confident in this mission as Logan was, he wasn’t foolhardy enough to let them both be unwary at once. Of course, even if he had been, Roman would not have let that happen.

They ate a quick dinner, of hard, cold, and rather tasteless provisions. Roman knew better than to risk cooking food over a fire, or even bring food that smelled too delicious and might attract company, but would it kill Logan to bring something that didn’t taste like the field rations they gave knights who were going on long-term, far-flung missions?

...Actually, that might have been exactly what this was, Roman thought, looking over the brick of what might be some kind of grain meal before taking another stiff bite. He wasn’t sure where Logan had gotten it. Maybe there was some sort of knight surplus store. Roman had never exactly gone out of his way to get these rations.

Logan finished his meal first, clearing his throat and taking a long drink of water.

“I’ll take first watch,” Roman announced, setting aside what remained of his own rations, and shifting a napkin so it was less obvious how much was left..

“That would be appreciated,” Logan said. He looked tired, for good reason. He had been up and down all day, pulling up plants and digging in rocky cliffs for mineral deposits.

They cleaned up the remains of dinner, brushed their teeth, and got ready for bed, or in Roman’s case, for his watch. Logan sighed as he sat down on the bed roll. He removed the pocket watch and several of the items they had collected that day from his coat (what there hadn’t been room for in his pack, minus what Roman had agreed to carry) and set them to the side. “Please wake me in a few hours for my shift,” he said. “And do keep a vigilant watch.” He reached for the blanket.

“Aren’t you going to remove your coat?” Roman asked, watching. They had brought more than one blanket, and it was summer besides—Logan wasn’t keeping the garment to help with the chill.

“I would like to be prepared,” Logan said. “This is not the first venture I have made, and I am cognizant of the creatures found in these woods.” He patted his coat where his dagger was hidden, then pulled the blanket over himself, moving to lay down.

Roman grinned at him and held up his sword, posing, well aware of how impressive he looked in his stark white uniform. “Not to worry, Logan, for the noble knight Sir Roman will protect you!”

Logan rolled his eyes, but then he smiled, just a little.

Romans heart fluttered.

Logan removed his spectacles and set them to the side, with his other belongings. “Sure, Roman. Good night.” Logan never called him by his title, but Roman didn’t actually mind, not when it was Logan.

“Good night.” Roman slid his sword back in its scabbard and turned to leave the tent. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Logan’s eyes closed, his chest rising and falling gently. It was clear he was already asleep, or nearly so.

Roman bit his lip, allowing himself to watch for just a few seconds, appreciating the moment, under the guise of making sure he had everything (in case Logan wasn’t actually asleep). The coziness of the tent; the warm, tranquil night air; the fact that they got to be here together. Yet his heart ached. He and Logan were best friends, at least if you asked Roman, and that was something wonderful that he wouldn’t trade for the world… but sometimes, he did wish that that they could be more than that.

Some things just weren’t meant to be. Roman knew that. He turned out the lantern and silently left the tent.

The forest beyond their little shelter was dark and still, with densely packed trees stretching in all directions. It was too dark to see the rocky outcrops that occasionally broke up the landscape. There was just enough light to see, from the soft moonlight filtering down through the canopy. They were lucky that the moon was nearly full.

For a while, Roman paced around the edges of the tent, his sword ready, watching for any sign of something amiss. But as the hours ticked by, with no sign of any unwanted visitors, he slowed down. He eventually sheathed his sword, but kept his hand on the handle.

Still, nothing happened. Another hour, and it would be time to wake Logan so that he could take over the watch. Roman found a rock to sit upon, and perched himself there, deciding to just listen to the woods, and scan the trees.

Twenty more minutes dragged by. Roman was holding back yawns—it had been a long day, and a longer night. He blinked hard, trying to clear some of the sleepiness.

Crack.

Roman froze, instantly wide awake.

A twig, breaking. Some distance off. It was small. Potentially insignificant. Yet that one, seemingly innocuous sound filled Roman with a sudden, queasy sense of fear. He slowly stood, unsheathed his sword, and turned towards the sound.

Silence.

Then, after a long pause, came a chuckle. Just a little too loud, for how far away it seemed to be.

The trees moved. A huge, monstrously proportioned creature seemed to melt out of the shadows. Glowing, poisonously green eyes met Roman’s, and a too-wide mouth split into a grin, the filthy, too-large teeth glinting in the moonlight.

It was a giant. Twenty-five feet tall, at least, with thick, thorny, leathery-skinned legs like old tree trunks, enormous hands like boulders, powerful shoulders, and of course, those awful green eyes.

“LOGAN!” Roman shrieked.

There was a commotion from inside the tent, but it was like the shout was exactly what the giant was waiting for. He came running forward, enormous feet pounding across the earth, closing the  distance between them in seconds.

Roman swung his sword, but he barely made a mark in the giant’s thick skin. He tried again, aiming higher, and cut a thin line near the giant’s knee. Not deep enough to cause any real harm. He hardly damaged more than the rags of the giant’s clothes.

Roman was still shouting as the giant’s hands tore the tent to ribbons. As he lifted something—someone—into the open air, struggling wildly.

Roman cut, and slashed, and stabbed, and still it seemed to do nothing against the giant’s armored flesh. He tried pinning the giant’s robes to the forest floor, but the cloth simply ripped free, and the giant didn’t seem to care.

The giant laughed, and laughed. Logan continued to struggle as the giant lifted him higher and higher. Roman knew he was trying to get to his dagger, but the giant was hardly letting him move at all.

“Ooh, so squirmy!” the giant said gleefully.

“Unhand him!” Roman shouted, stabbing again with his sword, putting all of his strength into the blow. He must have hit a weak spot in the tough armor of the giant’s skin, because this time, the sword sank in halfway to its hilt.

The monster let out surprised roar and spun toward Roman. His fists, Logan still gripped in them, swung closer, and Roman caught a glimpse of Logan’s terror-stricken face, his normally neatly combed dark hair flung wildly in his face. He hadn’t even had time to put on his spectacles. Roman had never seen him look so afraid.

The giant batted Roman away, still holding Logan. Roman was sent flying back, but he managed to keep his grip on the sword, which was wrenched free from the giant’s leg by the force.

Roman hit the ground hard and rolled, collecting bumps and bruises that would surely hurt in the morning, but all he felt in that moment was the buzz of adrenaline and an icy pit of fear. He even managed to avoid falling on his own sword in that uncontrolled fall—at least those protective enchantments were good for something.

The knight finally hit a bush and skidded to a stop. He immediately staggered to his feet, breathing hard. He had to get to Logan; there was no time to recover. He adjusted his grip on the sword, spat out a bit of blood, and turned to face the giant. Apparently, the giant’s bleeding leg didn’t hurt him that badly, because he certainly didn’t seem bothered by the injury. The giant was now ignoring Roman, his attention seemingly focused entirely on Logan.

Who he was shaking around like a rag doll.

The giant cackled madly, watching Logan’s limbs bounce like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Logan was clearly trying to curl in on himself, to stop himself from being flung about so much.

“Oh, no you don’t, you party pooper!” the giant cackled.

Roman was running back towards the giant, his sword raised.

The giant gripped one of Logan’s arms in one dirt-encrusted hand, and yanked, trying to force him to straighten his limbs.

As Logan’s body jerked to the side, he cried out—only for the sound to be cut off as his head collided with the heavy metal chain of the bone-studded bracelet on the giant’s wrist with a sickening, solid thunk.

Logan went limp.

Horror cut so deeply into Roman’s soul that is was as if a sword had pierced him clean through. He felt rather than heard himself scream.

He came to such an abrupt halt, it was as if he’d hit an invisible wall. No.

“Oh,” the giant said, taking in Logan’s suddenly lifeless body, the blood coating half of his face and his dark hair, dripping slowly down to the forest floor. “Oops.”

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Roman and Logan’s Dark Strange Son: Rewrite

Pairings: Romantic Logince, Platonic Loginceit/Roloceit

Word Count: 1,088 Words

Summary: Roman and Logan meet Deceit near Spider Woods to talk.

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Unsympathetic Patton, Spiteful Roman, Petty Logan, Slight Arachnophobia Mentions, Trust Issues, Mentions of Death (in the means of ‘fading’), let me know if I should tag something else.

Chapter 2

Upon arrival, Roman and Logan found who they assumed was Deceit quite deep in the forest, though seeing yellow in a black forest wasn't hard. As it seemed, Deceit was attempting to help a newly hatched baby dragon out of it's egg as the small being flapped its wings for assistance.

Eventually, he noticed Roman and Logan sitting on their picnic blanket, Roman lovingly watching the snake assist a youngling out as Logan was impressed that the deceitful side was motherly enough to assist something that was clearly reptilian out of its shell and to the freedom of life without a second thought.

Deceit finally helped the stuck dragon free and returned with it to the blanket on the forest floor. He was tense, hands petting the dragon a bit shaky and he looked stressed.

It was quite obviously him, despite the different clothing. Snake features prominent even though the bell sleeve top, and lace up sided jeans, and yellow flannel around his waist was quite different. But a good different.

He sure held up to his aesthetic. Logan sputtered at first but then Roman led straight in, despite Deceit fidgeting with the newborn dragon's wings in quite obvious distress to know why he'd been called here.

"Alright. To calm you down, we aren't mad. Like, at all. We asked you to be here because we wanted to hear your opinion with the debate today since you didn't get to speak at all and we couldn't figure out what you were saying." Deceit looked confused and shocked by Roman's explanation.

"Oh...um...it was stupid anyway." Logan grabbed his hand, seeing him about to leave.

"No opinion is a stupid opinion unless it doesn't pertain to the conversation." Logan immediately assured him.

"I don't know, it's dumb." The deceptive side seemed antsy not to share, maybe protective? Then it seemed to dawn on the logical side. Maybe trust issues? Those might make sense. Trust didn't seem common amongst the dark sides if Virgil at the beginning of his stay was anything to go by. And, with his housing situation in the grey area, trust must run far below zero in Deceit's world.

"So, wanna have dinner with us and talk about your opinions?" Roman asked him. Deceit seemed to settle with that. Maybe trusting they'd listen?

Logan had a hundred scenarios at once of what he could possibly be thinking, none of which he spoke aloud. But they settled themselves onto the blanket and Deceit seemed to work up the nerve to share his opinion.

"Thomas is getting reckless. He's pulling himself all these ways and stretching himself thin and I'm just worried that, if he keeps ignoring how reckless he's getting, eventually, he won't have any self-preservation left." Deceit finally managed to explain. The way his eyes shone, he was definitely telling the truth.

"You're not..." Roman reached his hands to grab Deceit's hands, making sure they didn't slip through, that their Deception wasn't fading.

"No. Not yet, at least. But if he keeps like this, it might happen." He sounded teary. Logan wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him that he could cry, but he didn't want to overstep. Plus expressing and explaining emotion wasn't his forte, not did he do it very well. He could let Roman handle that for now.

“We need do make sure you won't then.” Logan determined.

“You…You could?” Deceit asked, near incredulously.

“As much as possible. We could use your ideas into our debates with Patton and Virgil. It's no harm to change our arguments for a while if it keeps you from fading long enough to figure out what to do for longer-term in fixing the problem.” Logan assured him.

“You don't have to.” The shortest trait wiped his eyes and kept tears from falling over, the baby dragon nuzzling his face and huffing. This obviously meant a lot to him.

“You're right. We want to.” Roman agreed. And Logan couldn't agree more. They spent a total of another hour listening to Deceit's opinion, both encouraging him to keep going so they could learn more on his side of the debate both that morning and in the past.

It all boiled down simply to, don't over-give and to make sure Thomas could take care of himself, make sure Thomas didn't push too far. It was reasonable. Loga got hints that his home life wasn't what it seemed like. It could really be a toss up of any kind, Logan didn't know any details and it seemed Deceit didn't want them to.

There were also very clear trust issues that they got the simple explanation that someone he trusted had left before. This wouldn't stand, Logan determined. The other half hour of the conversation was him gently convincing Deceit to take it easy, make sure he didn't overstress himself and, eventually, the conversation turned to dragon care between Roman and Deceit. And, thus, Roman and Logan were now formulating a plan in the debate room again.

"We could have him stay in one of our rooms to keep an eye on him. So we can make sure he doesn't start fading." Logan suggested. He was far beyond stressed. If their Deceit faded, then their Self-Preservation faded too. There may be no saving him if he began fading, there was only hoping at that point that he could come back from it somewhat stable.

"He'd have to stay in there a lot so he wont be caught by Patton or Virgil. He might get corrupted if he were in one of our rooms. It wouldn't be any better." Roman shot the idea down.

"We could make him a room." Logan suddenly suggested, far too excited and ended up slamming his hands onto the desk of the debate chair he sat at.

"A-A room? They'd notice!" Roman exclaimed.

"Not if we said it's ours or a Shorts character is having an extended visit. There's already that old extra room across from ours. Remember? You made it a while back for one of those Shorts characters when they were made before they went off to live in your kingdom." Logan poked his head to remember. It seemed to come back to him now.

"Oh yeah, Remy's old room! That's perfect. We could totally do that!" Logan smirked seeing that he'd finally seen sense.

"Let's get to work. We need him close to us to keep an eye on him and we better get it done as quickly as possible." Logan alerted him.

Taglist: @zozomind @im-default @imma-potatoo @genderfluidmoma @brain-deadx0 @knightinsoftpastels @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @lgbtforeverything @fandersides1234567 @that-gay-satanic-trash @messcentral @turtleluv799 @theenbyregressor @katelynn-a-fan @13hisss

[lousimusician]

Trying To Adjust

Pairing: Frat!Tom x Reader

Requested By: @blissonal

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could request a frat!tom imagine/blurb, where tom is having a hard time adjusting to a real relationship and it makes the reader think that he’s with other girls/just playing her. I just like a lot of angst, so end it however you want.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning: Angst

—————————————————

Tom: Sorry babe, can’t tonight, there’s gonna be another party

You stared blankly at the text Tom just sent before shutting your phone and dropping your hand down, making it hit your bed which you were currently laying on.

You sighed sadly, gaining the attention of your roommate, “What’s up?” Elizabeth asked.

”Nothin’” you mumbled, “Tom just blew me off again.”

Her eyes snapped up to you, looking away from her laptop at her desk, “Again!” She exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes, “Yup.”

”What the hell, why?”

You shrugged, “I dunno...” you trailed off.

”You don’t think he’s cheating on you, right?”

”What,” you sat up quickly, “No of course not! Why? Do you?” You asked, suddenly fearing the worst.

”Well I don’t know, but he doesn’t have a very good reputation. He used to sleep around a lot.”

”I mean, I knew that but once we started dating he obviously stopped.”

She shrugged, “Yeah but maybe he fell back in his old ways. Like he was really bad. I remember this one time where he was in the quad with his friends and there were these three girls that found out he was playing them all at the same time, I’m talking like the same situation in John Tucker Must Die— which is a great movie, but I digress— only they didn’t do it as good as the movie did, but they all approached him in the quad and each one of them gave this long speech about why he’s a dick and one of them even slapped him. And then you know what happened later that night?”

”No,” you said, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

”He had a foursome later that night at a party with all of them!”

”What!” You hissed.

”Well, I don’t know that for sure, but that’s what the rumors say,” she shrugged.

You groaned, falling back on your bed, “Ugh, I don’t know what to think. Everything was going so well and then he just started blowing me off, like at the very least he could invite me to these parties he’s always going to.”

”Why don’t you just go anyway?”

“I don’t know... I won’t know anybody there.”

”You’ll know Tom and he’s your boyfriend, that’s enough in my opinion for you to show up.” 

You paused, considering this, “But don’t they have stupid rules, like the girls need to wear dresses that practically shows off their entire ass.”

Elizabeth laughed, “Yeah, I have a dress like that if you need one.”

You paused again, “Sure.”

-

You don’t really know why you agreed to go, it just seemed sneaky on your part. Like you were the untrustful girlfriend that just wanted to see if her boyfriend was being faithful. Which isn’t exactly the kind of thing you wanted to impose on this relationship, especially since you’ve only been together a month and a half and things were still pretty new.

But here you were at your boyfriend’s frat party, with a thong that was all the way up your fucking ass and a dress that really wanted to show that off.

You walked through the house, gaining a few looks from guys that either knew you and looked surprised to see you here or guys that were too focused on your ass to notice anything else about you.

You didn’t see him in the living room or where there was a spot cleared so people can grind on each other to the music that had been playing (and you were really glad he wasn’t there).

So you naturally made your way to the kitchen, and

Bingo.

You were immediately able to spot the locks of brown hair just from looking at him from behind.

He had currently been talking to a bunch of his frat brothers about whatever the fuck they usually talked about. Noah, probably your least favorite frat member, noticed you, his face lighting up.

”Oooooh!” He shouted, “Look who’s arrived!” He shouted again, following it with his own whipping sound affect, throwing his hand back then forward to mimic the motion.

You rolled your eyes, yeah you really hated Noah.

Tom immediately spun on his heels, the smile that had previously been on his face faltered, eyes widening in panic.

”(Y/N)!” He yelled in surprise, “What- uh what are you doing here.”

”I wanted to see you, can we talk for a second?”

You had barely finished the sentence when another one of his friends yelled out, “Pussy-whipped!”

Tom glanced back at them before looking at you again, “I mean— we can talk here right?”

You clenched you’re jaw, disappointed that he was letting his loser friends get to him.

But you sucked it up and continued, “Sure, I decided to drop by since you couldn’t make it to the movies like we planned.” You said, stepping closer so you were in front of him.

”Oh well, that’s great darling,” he said leaning down to kiss you, making the others whistles, “But uh- are you sure you wanna stay? I’m gonna be kinda busy with entertaining tonight, and you don’t really know anyone here...” he trailed off.

You pouted, “You can’t hang out with me even for a few minutes?” You ignored the whipping noises the others had all started making now.

But unfortunately Tom couldn’t.

”I mean, I was kinda in the middle of something.”

You were really starting to feel your heart break with all this.

”We haven’t hung out lately.” You sighed.

Tom was beginning to start really guilty about all this. He hated making you sad and insecure, especially since it was technically his first real relationship and he wasn’t too into the idea of completely screwing it up already, but what else could he do? And it was really hard to think clearly with all the whipping noises behind him.

”I know baby, I’ll make it up to you though.”

”Okay, when?”

”Tomorrow.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Tomorrow? Tom I’ve already told you I’m heading home for the weekend.”

The teasing shouts and obnoxious noises from his friends were becoming deafening in Tom’s ears.

”Okay, when you get back.” He rushed, just wanting to get this conversation over with.

You were really starting to get pissed at this point, “Y’know, Elizabeth thinks you might be cheating on me.” 

And suddenly it was as if the shouts that were behind Tom completely stopped (When in reality they actually got louder).

”What? Cheating on you? And you believe that?” Tom couldn’t have been more insulted. You were actually the first girl he’s ever been faithful towards.

”I don’t know!” You shouted, “You keep blowing me off all the time and you barely text or call! Is it really that hard to believe that’s where my mind would go? Especially with your reputation?”

”No, stop it. You should know that I would never do that to you!”

”Well how am I supposed to know that when you never wanna hang out anymore!?” You yelled, not even feeling a little embarrassed by the show you were giving to his friends.

He grabbed your shoulders, “(Y/N) listen to me. I have never cheated on you.” He spoke slowly. “You’re the only girl that’s ever made me feel this way, why would I screw it up by sleeping with some girl I don’t like.”

At this point you were too mad to see his reasoning, “I don’t know,” you snapped, “If you’re not cheating then why are you screwing this up by always caring so much about what these assholes think?” You asked, pointing at the group behind him.

”Whoa!” Noah shouted obnoxiously, “Little (Y/N)‘s got some fire in her! Tommyboy, is she like that in bed too!?”

Tom suddenly remembered them now, and starting glancing back at them nervously.

He groaned, “God! I don’t know what you want from me!” He yelled, running a hand through his curls.

”What I want?” You scoffed, “I want you to man up and be my boyfriend! Answer my calls and texts, and maybe make an effort to reach out to me too, and stop canceling every single one of our fucking plans! I don’t know what you think it is we have but it is not a functioning relationship!”

”Y’know what? Fine! Maybe if you hate our relationship so much, we should just break up!”

”Break up,” you hissed, “So your solution to fix a fucked up relationship is to just end it! Cause if it is I promise you that you will never have a healthy relationship!”

The sounds of his friends had finally started to die down.

”Who gives a shit! Maybe I don’t want a healthy relationship anyway, at least now I can fuck all the girls you thought I was cheating on you with!”

You could tell he was already falling back into the person you had met for the first time just two months ago. Just this douchey frat boy, who didn’t know how not to be a dick to everyone.

But now you wanted to hurt him because of how mad he was making you, “Fine by me! Then I can fuck all the guys I want to then too!”

“Fine! Good luck trying to find a guy that wants to fuck your annoying ass!”

Well that one stung.

You heard a quiet ‘oh shit’ from one of his friends, the whole room watching in anticipation.

You scoffed, “Oh trust me Holland, I will have no trouble finding guys.” 

He clenched his jaw, “You sure about that? This entire school already thinks you’re overbearing and bitchy.”

”Fine, you wanna play it like that?” You turned your head to one of his friends, who you were pretty sure was named Aaron, “You,” you pointed at him, “You wanna go up to your room and fuck?” You stated plainly.

He blinked in surprise, “What— like now?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes like now.”

”Fuck yeah!” He shouted, jumping to his feet, from where he was previously sitting on the kitchen counter.

Tom looked at him with wide eyes, “Aaron what the fuck?”

He gave Tom an unsympathetic shrug, “Sorry man, I mean look at her, she’s fucking hot,” he said, passing Tom to stand next to you.

You grinned, looking at Tom, “See Tommyboy?” You mocked, “He thinks I’m hot.” 

And just for that extra punch, you pulled Aaron down by the collar of his shirt and crashed your lips to his, turning so you could make direct eye contact with Tom while you kissed someone he had considered to be a friend up until a few seconds ago.

And you hated to admit how satisfied you felt upon seeing the destroyed look on his face.

You pulled away from Aaron, “Have fun fucking those girls and spending all your time with these assholes~” you sang, before dragging Aaron out of the kitchen by the wrist.

Tom stood there completely floored as to what had just happened.

Noah walked over to Tom and patted his shoulder, “Tough break. But look at the bright side. Now I can finally introduce you to Angelica right?”

Tom narrowed his eyes at him and shook his head, “Go fuck yourself.” He said before walking away from his “Friends”.

After that shit show, Tom spent the rest of his night locked up in his bedroom, going back and counting over every time he blew you off.

~~~~~

[A/N]: Lol this was just supposed to be a short blurb but I couldn’t help myself

—————————————————

My Taglist Is Closed!!

Permanent Taglist:

@peterparkers-waffles @ultimategalaxyprogram @xxxxdelenaxxxx @chonisberonica @meaningoflifeisfandoms @aegis-s-s @yourwonderbelle @ironspiderstarker @marvelismylifffe @marvelhoeingismyhobby @thebadtruth @loud-binch @cosmicparkerr @thechickvic @magiclolipopqueen @httpmcrvel @parkeroffline @yang-seubinnie @lou-la-lou @all-of-the-fandom-trash @lovesaweed @kels-xoxo @takenbymidnight @heartbeats-wildly @stuffandstuff-stuff @ixchel-9275 @tra-gicx @drama-llama-04 @marvelrreignsficrecs @sargentjamesbarnes @capsassx3000 @xximaweirdoxx @r-wooooosh @littlegreenpill @pastelpinkbubbles @tomxdaya @hell-yeah-peter-parker @tommyhollandaisesauce @importantfireeaglefish @megabobtastic @ximaginx @ya-lyublu-tebya @spideyyypeter @bellamyblakemorley @cathrinexxxv @jackiehollanderr @ministryofmadeline @eridanuswave @pastyoverlord265