#trans creativitwins

[swhhdr-wthhr]

i dont know how to draw kids to make them look younger

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

*materializes into existence*

I've been inspired by 👑 anon talkin' about trans!Virgil, and so I present to you... transfemme!Remus.

This is all in a highschool au setting bc Brainrot (lol).

Remus, who keeps her name but usually goes by "Re" or "Rem" bc well her closest friends and her brother call her that anyway. Rem that's like "gender is a fuckin' puddle on the damn floor, it spilled and it's sticky and it get fuckin' everywhere like juice and glitter" and dresses whatever fuckin' way they want to (which can be inconsistent styles). Rem who feels she/they is the best fit for them. Rem who has a very supportive twin brother, and Roman's first question when she came out to him was "Can I still call you Re?" and Rem was like "yeah :,)" and thus some happy tears from Rem because, oh hey my brother's really there for me oh oh okay, akdjasdasjd.

Rem who has a very supportive and chill-about-gender-because-screw-gender-roles type of boyfriend.

Virgil is that boyfriend who gives a death glare to anyone who even looks like they're about to be mean to his partner about her being trans. He went on anxious autopilot once when Rem wasn't feeling well and asked them if they needed period stuff. It took both of them a second to be like "wait" and they laughed about it bc Rem doesn't get periods nor have they ever gotten them. Virgil is that boyfriend who sees Rem in literally anything and gets this lil awkward blush. His joyfriend is pretty and he is very queer, thank you very much. Rem always teases him when he blushes at her, but she feels secure in the fact that her partner finds her pretty in anything she chooses to wear.

Omg, the amount of fuckin' jokes Rem would make out of being trans. They won't ever stop. They see a semi-truck on the road that has the "trans-" prefix in its name and makes a joke out of it. Roman and Virgil will laugh and snort and snicker with her about it. Trans jokes are fuckin' hilarous (says a trans person), especially when you're making it with fellow trans peeps (*cough cough* trans/nonbinary!Janus is here too *cough cough*).

When Rem is feeling dysphoric, or when she sees herself in the mirror and can only see a him staring back and it feels off? Well, ya see, their brother is always there for them when they're feeling low or bad. They're twins; they've been through thick and thin, even through all of their arguments and bickering, they always make sure the other knows they won't leave. And of course Virgil is there for his wonderful girlfriend and her friends (Janus, especially) are there within seconds. They've got an entire squad of supportive and genuinely caring people by their side.

Rem who likes being called partner/girlfriend but joyfriend is her favourite.

And so yeah: transfemme!Remus :3

T4T Dukexiety my fucking beloved I fucking L O V E this!!! It's S O fucking sweet at how supportive Re's boyfriend and twin along with their friends are <3 She's a transfem baddie who doesn't give a fuck about how she dresses and their Emo boyfriend won't hesitate to sock a bitch if they even dare try to fuck with his joyfriend (Also unrelated note I am literally giving you the title CEO of Wholesome Creativitwins Oatmeal because oml /positive)

[teacupfulofstarshine]

you're the pink in my cheeks (i'm a little bit soft)

summary: "and i know we'll never grow old together / cause you'll never grow old to me / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft / you're the pink in my cheeks / and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft"

- "monster," marceline (adventure time)

(OR: 5.4k of soft domestic lesbian!analogical, featuring lesbian!moceit, trans male!remus, trans female!roman, and Gay Shenanigans)

a/n: huge thank you to dandie for beta'ing this fic!

i just wanted to write wlw is that so wrong of me? no. no it is not.

CW: alcohol mentions, a few sex jokes, swearing, one implied instance of potential sexual activity (although it doesn't go any farther than making out; if you want to skip that part, skip the section that starts with "Did you get the right kind of popcorn?")

word count: ~5.4k

read it on ao3!!

“I think I may be going insane,” Logan says, squinting at her laptop screen. Virginia, hanging upside-down in the armchair, looks up from her phone and blinks.

“And why is that?”

“Because I am starting to agree with Rosie’s anti-Florida agenda.”

“I didn’t realize that there was an anti-Florida agenda.”

“Rosie has one, and I have always thought it facetious. However, if this laboratory does not start sending me my requested samples and information in a timely manner, I will be forced to concede that Rosie may have . . . a point.”

“You, agreeing with a lit major? I never thought I’d see the day,” Virginia teases. Logan initially resists the urge to stick her tongue out or flip Virginia off, because that would be childish, but then she remembers that Virginia does not care about her childishness, so she sticks her tongue out. Virginia snorts with laughter, and Logan feels warm, fizzy pop-rocks bursting in her chest.

Her phone buzzes next to her, and she picks it up. There’s a new message blinking for her attention on the screen.

[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

a, b, or c

[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

. . . What?

[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

*rolls eyes*

[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

i need you to make a selection, logan. a, b, or c.

[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

I am confused. What am I selecting between?

[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy

[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

Yes. I would like to know. That is why I asked you.

[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

Also, I am not a meteorologist. Or a boy.

[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

it’s a meme, i’m sure v will be happy to show you the og. but first: make a choice

[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

Option B, I suppose?

[from: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

vodka it is!

[to: snesbian (snake lesbian)]

Wait, what?

Her phone buzzes again, another text thread lighting up, and Logan abandons the now-fruitless conversation with Jan to see that her wife has texted.

[from: soda poppy]

y is jan fillin a thermos with vodka and sayin u gave her the go ahead? >:(

[to: soda poppy]

I am unsure. She texted me asking me to make a choice between “a, b, and c” with no context given. When I eventually selected “b,” she excitedly mentioned vodka and logged off.

[from: soda poppy]

her an remy r going 2 a pta meeting tonight an i guess they’re goin drunk

[to: soda poppy]

Is that a . . . normal occurrence?

[from: soda poppy]

sadly yeah

[to: soda poppy]

Wait, is she even allowed to attend PTA meetings? You two don’t have any children?

[from: soda poppy]

she’s on the school board so she has the right 2 attend. idk if she’s supposed to or not but its never stopped her b4

“Everythin’ good over there?” Virginia asks.

“I believe I may have just enabled Jan to attend a PTA meeting drunk.” Virginia snorts, swiping at her phone.

“Good for her, honestly. The only reason she and Poppy live in that neighborhood is so that Jan can flaunt her wife in front of all the capital-s Straight people, because she’s a petty fuckin’ bitch.”

“That is a strange word choice for your best friend.”

“I hate Jan, she’s a bitch,” Virginia says, smirking fondly at her phone. Logan knows her girlfriend well enough to know that this statement is disingenuous, so she stands up, stretching her arms above her head, and leans down to drop a kiss onto Virginia’s forehead.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan blinks awake slowly, feeling for the position of her limbs. She’s on her left side, left arm tucked up under her pillow to cradle her head, wrapped in the thick comforter of their bed. Her right arm is slung across Virginia’s body, and her girlfriend is pressed up against her, head tucked right under Logan’s chin and face nestled into her neck and chest. Virginia breathes, slow and deep and even, and Logan hums, huffing out a soft exhale.

She carefully wiggles out of bed, tucking the comforter around Virginia’s curled-up form. Virginia grumbles when the cool morning air slips against her skin, because she is a foolish woman who insists upon sleeping in short shorts and a spaghetti-strap tank top no matter the current weather patterns. Logan wraps her up, making sure that she’s shifted into the middle of the warm divot of body heat, and Virginia settles in, asleep again in a heartbeat.

Logan turns to the corner chair, where her early-morning outfit is already laid out: athletic leggings, a sports bra, a moisture-wicking quarter zip jacket. She changes quietly, lights off, and tugs on a pair of ankle socks before slinking into the bathroom. Once the door is shut, she flicks on the soft lights over the vanity and carefully undoes her sleep braid. Normally, Virginia does Logan’s hair, because Logan is not good at dealing with her wavy, tangled, curly mess, but she won’t wake up her girlfriend for that. She can, at bare minimum, pull her hair up into a high ponytail for running purposes.

They live in a small town only a short walk (and even shorter bike ride) from the beach, full of little two-story brightly-colored beach cottages. Logan steps off her front porch, pulls out her phone, and quickly shoots a text.

[to: ginny <3]

I am headed to the beach for my weekly run. I will likely return before you wake up, but in case I do not: I will be back before 9 AM.

[to: ginny <3]

I love you <3

Logan kicks up the kickstand on her bike, runs her fingers over the glossy dark-blue paint flecked with white and silver and gold to mimic stars, and swings one leg over the bike seat. She carefully pedals out into the narrow road and heads for the beach. The cool early-morning air whips past her face, and she chances a glance up at the dark-blue-turning-light-blue-grey sky and smiles.

She’s always been an early-morning morning person, anyway.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan’s sneakers dig into the hard-packed wet sand along the water’s edge as she runs. Seagulls scatter in front of her, and the podcast Virginia recommended hums in her ear. The sun creeps up, up, up onto the horizon, coloring the blue-grey into streaks of brilliant pink and orange and gold, light reflecting off the water in resplendent diamond sparkles.

Logan runs half a mile down the beach, turns around, runs back to where she started and then runs half a mile in the other direction before turning around and running back to her starting point. By the time she’s bent over, hands on her knees, huffing out breath while her legs burn pleasantly, the sun has emerged fully from the ocean, and Logan is beginning to wish she had worn a visor.

She takes a moment to appreciate the sensory experiences of being on a nearly-abandoned beach: the scent of salt water, the sound of waves crashing against sand, the errant cries of gulls squabbling over fish. Their little beach is not nearly pristine enough for a tourist attraction, and too far north along the Atlantic coast to be warm year-round. Still, Logan loves it, and cannot imagine living anywhere else.

She hunts along the water’s edge as she walks, briefly, a cool-down before the bike ride home. She finds a few things worth photographing, a few crabs to shoo back into the ocean, and a few things worth gathering: an intact clam shell whose smooth curve runs unbroken from the heel of her palm to the tip of her index finger when she lays it flat in her hand, a light gray rock worn smooth by the waves that turns dark-gray-almost-black when wet, a small spiral shell that she thinks may have broken off of the top of a snail shell. Logan wraps all three things carefully in a small handkerchief from the little bag she keeps in her bike basket, pulling out her phone to note the time (8:37 AM) and the message notification flashing at her.

[from: ginny<3]

dunno why you insist on being a morning person. stop by the dunkin on your way back and get us breakfast?

[to: ginny<3]

You had Dunkin for breakfast three times this week. You should consume something healthy.

[from: ginny <3]

>:( >:( >:( >:(

[from: ginny <3]

counterpoint: you bringing me dunkin is better than me not eating breakfast at all. which is the alternative because i do not want to get up and prepare anything

[to: ginny <3]

Your womanly wiles will not work on me in regards to Dunkin breakfast.

[from: ginny <3]

bitch (affectionate)

[to: ginny <3]

Would you like me to make you breakfast on my return, beloved?

[from: ginny <3]

. . .

[from: ginny <3]

will you make me an omelette? with all the cheesy goo an shit?

[to: ginny <3]

I will make you an omelette with some degree of “cheese goo.”

Logan slides her phone into her pocket, huffing out a laugh at her girlfriend’s behavior, and hops onto her bike again.

*~*~*~*~*

“Your omelettes are always so much better than mine,” Virginia says, moaning as she sinks her teeth into an enormous bite of egg and cheese. Logan, calmly dicing bell peppers to mix into her own omelette, smiles.

“All food tastes better when it is prepared by someone who is not you.”

“You’ve clearly never had anything the twins have cooked.” Virginia takes another bite, pops a multivitamin into her mouth, and chases it down with a gulp of milk. “Besides, it tastes better because you made it.”

“I am not the most accomplished chef in the world, certainly, but I am glad you enjoy my cooking.”

Virginia laughs softly. “Lo, I like your food because it’s prepared by someone who loves me. I can taste the love in everything you make for me.”

Logan turns back to her peppers to hide her blush. “Love is not a measurable ingredient when cooking.” Virginia laughs again, louder this time; when Logan sets the knife down, she hears Virginia’s chair scrape out behind her as she stands, feels her arms wrap around her waist, feels the cool skin of her face press into her neck.

“Love you.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Stressful day at work?” Logan asks, hearing the door slam.

Virginia kicks off her flats, sending them flying into the wall with a clatter. Logan sets down her crochet project and moves toward the entrance of their house, where Virginia is shrugging off her rainjacket to reveal a mint-green Peter Pan-collared blouse and dark gray dress pants. “The stressiest.”

Logan takes the jacket and shakes it out on the tiled entranceway before hanging it on the hook. “I am sorry, beloved.”

“Lots of assessments, lots of parents who don’t understand why I’m assessing their kid, lots of parents insisting that there’s nothing wrong with their kid, or that there’s no way their kid could possibly have the deficits that I’m seeing. Like, I wouldn’t make this shit up, you know? Literally, let me help your child. You came to me, remember? I’m not in the habit of imposing myself onto people.”

“That sounds very stressful,” Logan says. She tries to picture a life where she spends all her time interacting with people she doesn’t know on a regular basis instead of her little corner of the university biochemistry lab where she only has to interact with three or four known people and her immediate supervisor, mostly by email. It sends icy fingers skittering down her spine.

“It is, I hate it. I mean, Kitty’s my supervisor until I get my C’s, so if I have problems I can consult with her, but like . . . why are people the way that they are.”

Logan stretches up and presses a gentle kiss to Virginia’s cheek. “I love you, Ginny.”

Virginia exhales and folds herself around Logan, draping her body over her girlfriend and going limp and boneless. “I don’t wanna be a real person for the rest of the night.”

“That can be arranged.”

“But it’s my night to make dinner.”

“I do not mind switching and having you make dinner tomorrow,” Logan says. “This is an acceptable deviation from the routine.” Virginia pushes her face into Logan’s neck, and Logan nuzzles the side of her head, and she sighs like the entire world has lifted off her chest.

*~*~*~*~*

(This is how it starts:

Logan, taking a class on British literature in her sophomore year because she needs to meet her core requirements. Logan, meeting Rosie, disagreeing with her on almost every single point she raises in class, hating when they’re paired up for their midterm project but earning the best grade in the class overall. Logan, seeing a text from Rosie about how her housemate needs people to participate in a research study for extra credit. Logan, making the long trek down to the health sciences building and seeing Virginia for the first time, thinking that she’s pretty and not knowing that she’ll be thinking that for the rest of her life.)

*~*~*~*~*

“Hello, gorgeous,” Virginia hums.

“Are you talking to me or to the mint plant?” Logan says, aggressively stabbing her pointer finger against the Delete key. It clacks loudly, and she mutters an insult under her breath. “I am going to set myself on fire. I swear to god, I am.”

“Obviously the mint plant,” Virginia says, turning and dropping a kiss on Logan’s head. “You okay, honey?” Logan grumbles more and shoves the laptop away from her with a disgruntled noise. Virginia moves the laptop away and leans over to kiss her forehead.

“I am trying to politely word an email whose essence boils down to, ‘If you do not send me my fucking samples in a timely manner, I am going to be forced to commit an Atrocity the likes of which this earth has never seen’,” Logan says.

Virginia laughs so hard that she sits down on the tiled kitchen floor, wiping tears from her eyes. “You are so funny,” she wheezes. Logan feels her irritation fade a little under the brightness of her girlfriend’s joy. “Let me see the email, I’m good at professional bullshitting.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Braid my hair!” Rosie says, throwing herself down onto the couch. Logan lifts her laptop up just in time to keep Rosie’s head from slamming into the keyboard.

“Ginny is your best bet for braids, Rosie. I have limited experience.”

“It doesn’t have to be fancy, It just has to be off my neck.”

Logan saves her document and sets her laptop on the coffee table, poking at Rosie’s ribs until she slides onto the floor and settles cross-legged between Logan’s thighs. “A comb and some hair-ties would be appreciated.”

“REMUS!” Rosie shouts.

“WHAT?”

“BRING ME A BRUSH AND SOME HAIR BANDS!”

“GET YOUR OWN!”

“I’m going to kill that man,” Rosie mutters, rolling to her feet. There are suspicious muffled thumping noises from the other room for a few minutes before Rosie emerges, victorious, hair somehow even messier than it was in the first place.

“You are the single loudest person I have ever met,” Logan sighs, taking the comb and the hair ties and beginning to drag it through Rosie’s curls. Rosie winces, just a little, at the pull of the comb, and Logan tries to be more gentle.

“Thank you!”

“I did not say that was a compliment.

“Hey!”

*~*~*~*~*

Logan tugs her sweatshirt sleeves down from where she’d rolled them up previously, shivering a little. Part of her wishes that she had worn leggings instead of capris as she drags the folding chair a little closer to the bonfire, toes dragging through the still-sun-warmed sand. The speaker set up on the food table blasts some sort of current pop music, and Rosie and Poppy dance around each other, chanting the lyrics at each other. They are both very loud and very off-key and, Logan suspects, fairly drunk as well. Remus is in the ocean (definitely buzzed, potentially naked) and Jan is standing at the edge of the ocean, watching to make sure he stays alive.

“Hey,” someone says, low and rumbling in her ear. Logan does not flinch (just barely) and turns to see Virginia, holding a plastic cup with a poorly-drawn sketch of the state of Virginia on it. Her hair is starting to come loose from its messy bun, and her sweater sleeves keep sliding down over her wrists and nearly dunking into her drink, and her breath smells sweet and alcoholic. When she lifts her hand to Logan’s cheek, her fingers are cool, and Logan shivers.

“How’s my girl?” Virginia asks.

“Cold,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia laughs, tipping her head back and exposing the long strip of her neck. Logan wants to lick it.

“You’re adorable,” Virginia says, leaning in and pressing her mouth against Logan’s ear. Her breath is warm and slightly damp. “So pretty, my Logan, and so smart. I bet you know exactly what chemical compounds are making the flames turn that color, hmmm?”

Logan can feel her face burning hotter than the bonfire, but Virginia just sits languidly in her lap, feet propped up on the armrest. Her toes are painted pale purple, and the glitter sparkles in the firelight.

“How many drinks have you had?” Logan asks.

“Enough to feel all tingly,” Virginia says, swirling whatever’s in her cup. “How many have you had?”

“None,” Logan answers honestly. Virginia leans her head against Logan’s shoulder, and her wispy frizz tickled Logan’s nose. She sneezes, and Virginia giggles in the high-pitched, superficial way she only giggles when she gets really, really drunk.

“You sound so cute when you sneeze.”

“I do not.”

“Of course you do,” and now Virginia is looking at her, eyes glowing warm in the firelight. “You sound cute when you do anything. You’re cute when you exist. You’re cute no matter what. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Logan hates the taste of alcohol, but she leans in and kisses Virginia anyway.

*~*~*~*~*

“Lo.”

“Hmmm?”

“Pick a color.”

“What?”

“I’m painting my toes again. Pick a color for me.”

Logan flops over onto her stomach, staring at the neat row of creme polishes sitting on their ottoman. Virginia’s bare feet are propped up in front of them, spread apart awkwardly with neon lemon gel toe spreaders, and she studies the nail polish like she’s trying to determine which vial isn’t poisoned.

“I like that one,” she says finally, pointing to a pale pink polish the color of the flowers Virginia brought her on their first date. Virginia hums, picking the bottle up and tilting it critically in the light.

“Not the one I would have picked, but I said you could pick, so I guess we’re doing it.”

Virginia tosses some bottles of toppers (or “tacos” as she calls them, slang from one of the YouTubers she likes) onto the bed while she paints her toes, and Logan sifts through them to settle on a blue-yellow iridescent one.

“I do not know how you can get behind wearing something called a Unicorn Skin,” Logan says. Virginia just shrugs and plucks the bottle from her hand. Their fingers overlap - Logan’s warm from where they’ve been tucked under her body, Virginia’s cool from where they’ve been gripping the glass bottle. Impulsively, Logan lifts Virginia’s fingers and kisses the tips.

“You’re going to smear the polish,” Virginia mutters, even though she painted her fingers earlier today and they’ve been dry for a while. She doesn’t bother to yank her fingers away, either, so Logan kisses them again.

*~*~*~*~*

“Logan!”

Logan is fully aware that the only thing keeping Poppy from crashing into her like a floral-sundress-covered cannonball is the casserole dish in her hands. She counts her blessings and steps aside to let Poppy in.

“Where’s Jan?”

“Getting something from the car! It’s my turn to drive us home, so she brought something to drink.”

Jan primly kicks the passenger side door shut with her heeled ankle boots, a bottle of wine grasped by the neck in each hand.

“I hope you do not intend to drink both of those in their entirety tonight,” Logan says. Jan rolls her eyes and offers one of the bottles to her.

“This one is a gift for you and Ginia. The other one is for me.”

“None for Poppy?”

“Poppy is the designated driver, so she will not be drinking. And I know she already told you that.” Logan rolls her eyes, and Jan flips her off. “Are you going to invite me in or not?”

“What are you, a vampire?” Virginia shouts from the kitchen.

“Only one of us dresses like the undead, darling, and it isn’t me,” Jan calls back, stepping into the house. “Are the twins here yet?”

“They cannot attend. Remus has orchestra practice and Rosie is teaching a dance class. You already knew both of these facts, because you are in the group text.”

“I am not.”

“You responded to a message in the group thread fifteen minutes ago.”

“That was the NSA agent assigned to monitor me.”

“You are a liar.”

“What else is new?”

*~*~*~*~*

groupchat name: be gay do crime

soda poppy: hey every1! DONUT 4get to make ur bakesale goodies and drop them off at r house by 7 am on fri!

lo tide: Please use normal words. I am begging you.

snesbian (snake lesbian): then beg.

lo tide: I do not recall asking for your opinion.

snesbian (snake lesbian): and yet i give it to you anyway. am i not generous

virgin: if you don’t stop making fun of my gf i swear to god

virgin: also remus if you don’t stop changing my name i’m gonna end you

virgin has changed their name to gin(ny) and tonic!

gin(ny) and tonic: much better anyway

violets are blue rosie is me: i believe you meant anygay

gin(ny) and tonic: i said what i fucking said

ace attorney irl: you changed your name :(

gin(ny) and tonic: every day the Lord regrets giving all of us mod powers in this chat

snesbian (snake lesbian): i have no such regrets

lo tide: Can we circle back to the bake sale, please?

soda poppy: Whatchu wanna kno???

lo tide: I assume it is school related?

soda poppy: yep!

soda poppy: fundraising 4 this year’s art club field trip! since im the faculty advisor im in charge of approving and setting up 4 the fundraisers

lo tide: I see. And why, exactly, is it our responsibility to make things for this fundraiser? Should it not be the students’ responsibility?

soda poppy: they r makin stuff 4 it but also i gotta make sure some of the stuff will b edible yknow

lo tide: I see.

gin(ny) and tonic: listen i know that jan is like. a professional pastry chef an shit. but i’m not making anything fancy like a cheesecake or smthn

gin(ny) and tonic: i’m making like. fuckin brownies

snesbian (snake lesbian): smh don’t you care about the Children at all?

gin(ny) and tonic: no. they’re not my kids

ace attorney irl: i will make cookies

soda poppy: u cannot make them inappropriate shapes

ace attorney irl: :(

violets are blue rosie is me: do not worry, i will make sure they are an appropriate shape

violets are blue rosie is me: i’ll make cupcakes!

lo tide: I believe I have a recipe for lemon squares that I can make. Will lemon squares be sufficient?

soda poppy: yeah! just keep ur stuff free of common allergens like tree nuts

gin(ny) and tonic: so my plan to just yeet you a bag of reese’s peanut butter cups and call it a contribution is out then

*~*~*~*~*

Virginia throws a box of brownie mix into the cart and dusts her hands off. “There. Done.”

Logan raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look, we have the rest of the ingredients at home. We have tap water, we have oil, we have eggs, we don’t need anything else. What do we need for your lemon thingies?”

“Lemons, presumably.”

“You’re a comedian,” Logan deadpans. Virginia flips her off, and then leans in to kiss her cheek. “I do need lemons, though. Lemons, more eggs . . . I have a list in my phone.”

“What phone?” Virginia says, dangling Logan’s galaxy-patterned case above her head. “I think you’re too short for this, Lo.”

“Give me my phone,” Logan says, rolling her eyes. Virginia wiggles it above her head, laughing.

“Maybe you should give me something in return.”

“Like what?”

Virginia grins. “Like a kiss, perhaps?”

Logan rolls her eyes again, but she leans in and kisses Virginia gently, swiping her phone back when Virginia lowers her hand to cup her face. “Thank you for paying the toll, sweetheart.”

“You are ridiculous,” Logan says. It doesn’t stop her from gently kissing Virginia’s cheek before pushing the cart down the aisle again.

*~*~*~*~*

groupchat name: be gay do crime

lo tide: What time did you want us to drop off the baked goods, Poppy?

soda poppy: if ur gonna b in the area, u can just drop them off at my house!

ace attorney irl: i made some of the shapes inappropriate but those ones r 4 u and jan

soda poppy: what did u make 4 the bake sale?

ace attorney irl: . . .

soda poppy: what did u make 4 the children, remus.

ace attorney irl: nothin’ too crazy! jan had some normal summer shapes - suns, flip flops, etc. etc. used those

soda poppy: :D thx remus!

ace attorney irl: made some fishies too! but the octopi are just for u an jan.

ace attorney irl: i . . . may have painted dicks on them

soda poppy: well at least u warned me right

*~*~*~*~*

“Did you get the right kind of popcorn?” Logan asks.

“If by ‘the right kind’ you mean ‘your favorite kind,’ then yes, I did,” Virginia says, coming into the living room with a large yellow bowl full of fluffy popcorn. “What are we watching tonight? It’s your turn to pick, isn’t it?”

“Gay fish,” Logan says.

Virginia sets the popcorn on the coffee table and blinks at her. “That is . . . quite the description of Finding Nemo, sweetheart.”

“Not Finding Nemo, Ginny. Luca. It’s new, and it’s not explicitly gay, but there is a very obvious queer reading. I thought we could watch it together.”

“Anything with you sounds wonderful.”

“Sap,” Logan mutters. She leans in to kiss Virginia’s cheek, but Virginia turns at the last moment and presses their lips together.

“Are you sure you want to watch a movie?” she says. “We could just make out instead, if you want.” She pushes gently on Logan’s stomach, guiding her to lay on her back on the couch. Virginia lays on top of her, gently sliding a hand to rest warm and heavy on her stomach. She leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s neck, and then her jaw, and then rubbing their noses together.

“Tonight is movie night,” Logan says. Virginia presses their mouths together, and Logan hums, gently pressing up into the kiss. “We should be watching a movie.”

“Are you sure?” Virginia says. “I think we should pursue this avenue a little further.”

Logan squirms a little. “I - I would not - um - no, thank you.”

Virginia’s eyes, which were hazing over with something, clear as she blinks. “Okay, sweetheart.” She leans back, sits up, pulls Logan into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” she says. “I just - I am not in the mood for that tonight. If that is okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Virginia says. She holds out a hand, and Logan takes it. Virginia kisses the back of it before settling herself on the couch. “I am so proud of you for expressing a boundary and telling me you were uncomfortable. I know that expressing boundaries is something that we’re both working on, and you did a wonderful job. Tell me what you want, Lo. Please?”

“I would like a kiss,” Logan says. “Just one. And then I would like to cuddle, and - and I would like us to watch Luca together. Is that acceptable?”

Virgil nods. “Of course, love. Come here, hmmm?” Logan settles next to her, and Virginia gently cups her cheek and presses their mouths together. “I love you, Logan. So much. Of course we can watch Luca now.”

Virginia lays an arm along the top of the couch, allowing Logan to cuddle up against her and rest her head on her chest. “I love you,” Logan says softly.

“I love you too, sweetpea.”

*~*~*~*~*

Logan rolls over, yawning, and feels a small weight displace itself from her thighs. She blinks awake slowly, lifting her head and pushing her curtain of curls aside to reveal a black cat mewing at her grumpily before settling into a sushi roll beside her.

“Did I wake you? I am sorry, Galileo . . .”

Galileo settles against her, purring softly, while the ash-grey cat at the foot of the bed pads slowly up to curl on Virginia’s back. “That’s your favorite spot, isn’t it, Andromeda?” The cat emits a soft “mrrrp” before settling back down to sleep. Logan yawns, smiles, and gently strokes her hears. “What should we do, girls? Shall we stay awake and be productive members of society?”

Neither cat responds, and Logan looks at Virginia. She’s haloed in the morning light, eyes tightly shut, mouth hanging open, drool leaking into a puddle on the pillow. She snores a little - one, two, three snorts before settling back into a deep sleep.

“No,” Logan decides, “we shall not.” She lays back down, gently nudging Galileo a few inches over so that she can snuggle up to Virginia. Galileo stretches out, pressing a paw directly into Logan’s cheek. Logan shoves her, and she resettles onto Logan’s feet with an indignant noise.

“You can sleep by my face when you do not kick my face,” Logan mutters, curling into her love.

*~*~*~*~*

groupchat name: be gay do crime

soda poppy: r u all comin 2 the bake sale 2morrow?!

lo tide: I was under the impression that we were only providing the baked goods. Is it not for the students at the school?

soda poppy: we got waaaayyyy more stuff than we thought so we r havin a 2nd bakesale 2morrow 4 parents an stuff!

soda poppy: we r gonna need sum help with setup though . . .

lo tide: Poppy, please do not even -

soda poppy: 🥺🥺🥺 p l e a s e

lo tide: Poppy.

snesbian (snake lesbian): logan

lo tide: If I agree to stop and pick up coffee for everyone, will that motivate you all to turn out?

violets are blue rosie is me: i’m always a slut for free coffee

lo tide: I’m sorry, where did I say that this would be free?

violets are blue rosie is me: D:<

ace attorney irl: eh i’m down for it. where you swingin’ by?

soda poppy: there’s a panera p close 2 where the bake sale is!!! it’s gonna b at the morning girl’s basketball game

lo tide: Does anyone have any issues with Panera coffee?

violets are blue rosie is me: nah. large iced coffee, add three ounces of half and half, two pumps of sugar syrup, two pumps of vanilla, and caramel drizzle.

ace attorney irl: complicated bitch much?

violets are blue rosie is me: why must the cain instinct betray me like this

ace attorney irl: the cain instinct started when we stole each other’s genders in the womb

violets are blue rosie is me: this is true this is true but you’re still a bitch

ace attorney irl: large hazelnut coffee, two sugars, please

snesbian (snake lesbian): large dark roast, black

soda poppy: medium decaf coffee, two ounces of almond milk, and two pumps of sugar syrup!

gin(ny) and tonic: large caramel latte

lo tide: You . . . are going to ride in the car with me to pick up the coffee, we can order our own coffees. I do not need your order, love.

lo tide: But I appreciate the information <3 <3

*~*~*~*~*

“We come bearing gifts,” Virginia announces loudly. “And by gifts, I mean we bought a baker’s dozen of cinnamon crunch bagels for everybody.”

“Well, there are twelve cinnamon crunch bagels and one plain bagel, bagged separately, for me,” Logan corrects, expertly balancing two coffee trays with a bagel container. “Also, we made more brownies.”

Poppy looks up from where she’s instructing two high-schoolers on how to hang a sign properly and grins, waving brightly. Jan is leaning on the table, hand on her head, sipping at a water bottle.

“Vodka or whiskey?” Logan asks dryly, handing over Jan’s black coffee. Jan blinks at her, flips her off, and drains a long swig from her cup.

“Water. Partied a little too hard with Remy last night, and now I’m hungover as shit.”

“We suspected as much, which is why we brought you an extra coffee.”

“Lifesaver,” Jan says, knocking back another long drag of coffee before taking a sip of her water bottle. (Logan suspects the bottle is actually Poppy’s, due to the sun-shiney stickers plastered all over it.) “You and Poppy both. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll gut you like a fish."

“No, you won’t,” Logan says, turning to hand Rosie and Remus their respective drinks. “You never do.”

Jan flips her off, but Virginia comes up behind her and leans her forehead against her shoulder. Logan turns, kissing her forehead, and smiles.

Life is good today, she thinks. Life is good.

(screen names!

virgin -> gin(ny) and tonic; ginny <3 = virginia (virgil)

lo tide = logan

snesbian (snake lesbian) = jan (janus)

soda poppy = poppy (patton)

ace attorney irl = remus

violets are blue rosie is me = rosie (roman) (thanks to @rosesisupposes for letting me borrow your screen name for this!)

[ravenhilarious]

Trans Creativitwins

sort of inspired by this post by @princeymust-slay (maybe not that much but it sparked the idea so I have to give her some credit)

trans Creativitwins, just like it says in the title

and Roman is super dysphoric, wanting to rip off their skin when it gets really bad, flinching every time someone misgenders them, crying with joy when they passed for the first time, you know the deal

but Remus does not have dysphoria at all, is like a stereotypical “trender” if you will, doesn’t care when people use wrong pronouns, proudly talks about their “boy pussy/titties” or “girl dick”, every transmed’s nightmare

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

if you're going my way, i'll go with you - chapter 12

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas, minor/background OCs Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Creativitwins Warnings: This chapter is just purely angst without any happy ending, because it is a flashback. There is: language, lots of references to child abuse, a minor burn injury, a death threat, getting kicked out, being forcibly separated from loved ones, a few instances of misgendering from the evil dad, and one (censored here, uncensored on ao3) use of the f slur. Word count: 2250

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

start - previous - here - next - masterpost

–

NOTE: This chapter is a flashback, taking place 5 years & 4 months before where we're at in the main story! Check the warnings. If you don't want to read this chapter, you will not miss out on any plot.

note 2: the correct pronouns are used for roman in the narration of the chapter, even though neither he nor remus knew about that yet, bc it feels better that way. there is still a bit of misgendering from the evil dad.

-

Chapter 12

Remus waited, lying in the dark with his eyes open, listening intently until he was absolutely certain both his parents were asleep for the night and they weren’t waking up. Silently, he rose from his bed, arranging his pillow beneath the covers so that, at least at a glance, it would look like he was still there beneath the covers. Ever so slowly, he eased open the window, its glide smooth and silent thanks to all the times he’d smuggled in supplies to grease it. The climb from his window to that of the room next to his was easy; he’d done it thousands of times, always careful not to make a sound, replacing the screens of each window behind himself. It was a slow process, taking care to maintain absolute silence, but he’d streamlined it over the years and now it took closer to five minutes than fifteen. He had to use the windows, because Ro’s door creaked, and their parents knew that it creaked and kept it that way on purpose, so there was no secret greasing to fix that.

Ro was pretending to sleep, and was remarkably adept at it for a six-year-old. But as soon as Remus pried open the screen to his room, he bolted upright in bed, waving with both hands and grinning wide, eyes big and bright in the moonlight. Remus gave an answering grin, but didn’t speak as he climbed through the window, dropped silently from the sill to the floor, and replaced the screen. He padded to the bed, avoiding the floorboards that would creak, and climbed into it. “Hi, squirt,” he breathed.

“Hi,” Ro whispered back, beaming from ear to ear and climbing into Remus’s lap. “I wanna hear a story!”

Remus put his arms around the tiny child, cradling him close against his chest. “Yeah?” he murmured, trying very hard not to cry as Ro nodded eagerly. Ro was warm and soft and solid and real, and as close to safe as was possible here in his arms, and tomorrow—

Tomorrow, that would probably not be the case.

Remus smiled down at Ro and kissed the top of his head, reaching over to grab the hairbrush off his sidetable. “Sounds good,” he said lightly. “What kind of story?”

Ro wiggled happily. “A happy one. With lots of heroes.”

“You got it, kid,” Remus whispered, and took only a few seconds to think before launching into a story that was soft and comforting and full of good things for the princess at its center. Even after he’d brushed all the knots out of Ro’s hair and put the brush back, he didn’t stop talking, simply inventing more and more nice things for the princess to do, from a tea party to a parade to a pillow fort, until Ro’s breathing slowed and gentled and his little limbs went limp and heavy with sleep against Remus.

Remus carefully put Ro down in the middle of the bed and laid down beside him, curling protectively around him and holding him close. Ro nestled into Remus’s hold easily and instinctively, gripping onto his pajama shirt with his little hands.

Remus bit the inside of his lip hard, blinking away the tears once more. He began running his hand through Ro’s hair, his other arm still curled around the child, holding him close as he kept a close eye on the clock on the other side of the room.

When five-forty-five ticked past and the window began to threaten the first tricklings of dawn, Remus pried himself away from Ro, pretty certain that he was ripping his own heart clean out of his chest and leaving it in Ro’s tiny hands. “Love you, Ro,” he murmured, bending to kiss his forehead.

Ro, who was an incredibly light sleeper, shifted and rolled over, blinking up at him sleepily. “Love you,” he echoed, smiling. “Happy birfday.”

Remus forced a smile. “Thanks,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep now, mmkay?” 

“Kay,” Ro responded obediently; his eyelids drooped closed as Remus kissed his forehead again.

Remus waited for just a moment more to be sure Ro had gone back to sleep before he climbed out the window and back to his own room, stifling hot tears all the way. In his room, he pulled out the crumpled, smudged piece of torn notebook paper in his pocket, and dragged out his prepared backpack from under the bed. He ran over the checklist on the paper one last time, then pulled out the lighter hidden under his mattress and carefully, carefully burned the list. It singed his fingers at the end; he clenched his teeth until the initial pain subsided to a duller throb. He couldn’t risk running cold water or seeking out burn cream right now.

Even though the list was gone, he looked through his backpack one more time. He zipped it up, slid it under his bed, made sure it wasn’t visible from the door or standing next to the bed, and finally climbed into his bed just as the sun peeked through the window. He hid his face in the pillow, telling himself it was to block out the light and not at all to stifle the silent sobs he couldn’t hold back any longer.

The moment he managed to get his tears back under control, he focused on swallowing down the rest of the long cry that he wanted and did his best to act like he was asleep. It helped that he was exhausted; he actually thought that he might have dozed off for a bit, though he wasn’t sure.

Regardless, the noise of footsteps in the hall was enough to bring him to full consciousness and leave him tense and stiff beneath his blanket. He heard his dad use the restroom, shuffle back to his own room, and return a moment later to the bathroom, probably this time for personal grooming.

Remus closed his eyes, breathed deep, and forced himself to relax in a mockery of sleep, even as he heard his dad walking back down the hall.

There was no noise of the door opening, of course; Remus had lost “having a bedroom door” privileges long ago. The footsteps came to a stop right next to him.

“Get up,” his father said, roughly pushing at his shoulder.

Remus sucked in a breath, as if being startled awake, although it was barely even acting. He rolled over onto his back and pushed himself up on his elbows in one motion. “What—?” His voice faltered at his dad’s glare.

“Get dressed and come outside in the next five minutes,” was the cold answer he received.

“Can—” Remus swallowed, sitting all the way up. He’d known this was coming. He’d thought he could do it, thought he’d said his goodbyes.

He’d been wrong. He could stand most things. Not losing Ro.

“Can I say goodbye to Ro?” he asked, voice coming out small and timid. It would hurt. It would hurt so badly to see him again, and Remus knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it. But leaving him was even worse.

His father’s face darkened. “No. I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

“It’s my birthday,” Remus pleaded.

“If you really loved your sister, maybe you would have thought of that before you tried being a little [f slur] under my roof,” his father snapped. “I don't want you anywhere near her.”

“Danni’s a girl,” Remus protested reflexively under his breath. And it had been years since he dated her, anyway.

“What was that?” his dad snapped.

Wow. A warning. He didn’t usually get those. Happy fucking birthday to him.

Remus bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything, staring at the ground.

That seemed to satisfy his dad. “Outside,” he repeated. “In four minutes.” He turned on his heel and left.

Remus took in a raggedy breath, scrubbed the fresh tears from his eyes, and changed lightning-fast into the outfit he’d laid out last night, pulling his backpack from under the bed and slinging it over his shoulders. He slipped the most important things into the secret pockets he’d sewn into the insides of his jeans and the lining of his coat: the key to the apartment he’d put down a down payment for last month, lying about his age so he could sign the contract; the card to his (secret) bank account, where he kept the money he earned at the (secret) part-time job he skipped school for; the shitty old phone he’d saved up for (in secret) and bought secondhand; and his driver’s license, the only one of these items that his parents even knew about. There was a decent bit of cash already sewn into his coat, too. In case his dad wouldn’t let him take the backpack with him, he should still have the essentials. He left the phone his parents had given him—new and expensive and completely under their control—on his desk and stepped out into the hall. He was pretty sure it had been only three minutes—he had gotten very good at keeping track of time.

But his dad was standing at the end of the hallway with his arms crossed, so Remus couldn’t slip into Ro’s room for one more goodbye. He shouldered his backpack a little more firmly and trudged down the hallway.

There was a soft creak of a door, and Remus froze.

“Remus?” came a little voice.

Remus’s dad’s face darkened, but he didn’t say anything or move.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, Remus’s heart had already broken today, this was too much, he couldn’t do it—

He stilled his face and turned. Ro was standing there in his pink pajama set, rubbing his eyes.

Remus took a few steps back down the hall, knelt, and hugged Ro close. “Go back to bed, squirt,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Ro clung to his shoulders as he tried to pry away. “Where are you going?”

“I dunno,” Remus admitted, and couldn’t quite keep the faintest tremor out of his voice. When Ro looked distinctly more frightened, he added, “On an outing. I’ll see you later. Go back to bed now, okay?”

Ro hugged him tightly. “Okay…”

“Good.” Remus pressed another kiss to Ro’s temple and whispered in his ear, “I’ll come back for you. Promise.” He sucked in a breath and got back to his feet, watching Ro cast a nervous glance at their dad and scamper back to his bedroom on tiny, silent feet.

Remus blinked hard until the tears blurring his vision went away, turned, and followed his dad out of the house. He got into the car on the passenger side without protest when his dad pointed at it. As the car pulled out of the driveway, Remus caught a glimpse of Ro’s face and two hands, pressed against his bedroom window and staring out at him; his small face was scrunched up in abject misery.

Remus set his face, shoving down the answering stab in his heart, and stared straight ahead through the windshield. Just a couple of months. Just enough that he knew his new job would work out and he’d have enough money to feed and clothe Ro, and then he’d come back and figure out some way to get him away from them.

Both he and his father were silent during the car ride. Remus had no idea where they were going; it didn’t really matter. He’d been under no illusions about what would be happening today. His parents had made it all too clear how eager they were to get rid of him at the first opportunity.

His dad drove without speaking for almost an hour, all the way out of the suburb and across to the far end of the city, until the buildings they were driving past were ones Remus had rarely seen before even though he’d lived in Sandersville all his life. At last he pulled up to the curb. “Get out.”

Remus swallowed, mouth dry, and unbuckled his seatbelt, dragging it out as long as he could.

“Don’t come back,” his dad added.

Remus rolled his eyes, opening the door of the car. “Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

“If you come near your sister, I’ll kill you.”

Remus clenched his hand where it clutched the side of the door. He couldn’t even tell if he was meant to take that literally or not.

He swallowed back the sick feeling in his throat. Say it. Say it. He could say it now. He had to say it now. While he still had the chance.

He turned back to face his father, voice quiet but steady. “I hate you.”

There was silence for a heartbeat. Another. Remus could feel his hands starting to shake in spite of himself.

“I don’t care,” his dad said.

Remus felt the words like a blow to the chest. He let the car door fall shut and watched, almost numb, as his father did a u-turn and drove away. The car turned a corner and vanished from sight.

Remus’s legs gave out from under him and he collapsed to sit on the edge of the sidewalk, pulling his knees to his chest and shaking all over, staring into the distance with unfocused eyes, breath ragged and harsh and loud.

It was not quite eight o'clock on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, and Remus Kingsley was all alone.

-

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @the-sympathetic-villain @just-a-little-anxious @your-local-crackhead-gremlin @remy-the-lemon-berry @midnightstorm-underthe-moon @crazydemigod666 @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @virgil-is-verge @simplestoryteller @oblivionartworks @so-youre-a-rock-with-issues @emoprincey @theblackcatscratchpost @biwithapie @poettheythem

[flower-zombie-rob]

Roman sanders pride icons! Feel free to request a flag or side if your one isnt there but you wanna use it

Virgil

Janus

Remus

Patton

Logan

Pride icon masterpost

[we-all-horny-here]

Ngl but the version of Sanders Sides I made up in my head due to lack of content and not remembering most of the canon is much more interesting than the original version imo/hj

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

What about mtf Remus?

Janus is the first to accept her, being the only other side around her consistently, it’s only logical Janus would welcome her with open arms.

She’s constantly self-consious. She likes how she looks normally, mustache and all, but sometimes she gets angry and shaves it off because she hates looking not ‘conventionally pretty’ so she’ll get rid of it and wear super cute pink things, even if Orange compares her to Roman because of the colors, she feels cute in her small armada of pink dresses and skirts.

Janus, in all his unwaivering support, handmakes her her very first dress and it’s so extra and floofy and very Remus that she can’t help but cry and hug him because she loves it.

Janus helps with her estrogen shots when she starts them because she’s scared of needles and Orange, despite his original assholeishness always distracts her.

Remus refers to estrogen as her Hot Mama Maker Juice and nothing can stop her once she’s started, even Janus desperately trying to shut her up.

When he hears of it, Virgil sends chocolate once a month at a random date despite knowing Remus can’t get a period. He just wants her to have chocolate and be happy knowing he supports her while being very far away from the chaos.

Remus debates for years, and I mean YEARS, about her name. She likes matching her brother. She likes proving to Roman that she’s just as creative as him and having their names connected is a big thing for her.

She eventually, after nearly 4 years of back and forth, decides on Rhea and Roman screams off into the abyss of the Unconscious that she found a name connected to his again and regrets leaving her to her own devices.

Logan learns the hard way a trans feminine Duchess is just as violent and intrusive as a cis gay Duke with more than just two ninja stars to the head for his efforts.

Patton makes her tons of sweets because she loves eating sweet things and she usually helps to make them because she likes being involved in her food.

Rhea happily claims prank war as the very first thing that happens upon her acceptance.

Janus sets rules because Rhea, Orange, and Virgil in the same prank war means chaos and someone will get hurt.

Rhea gives zero fucks and, if confident enough, will walk around the dark side house in nothing but her underwear once she’s fully transitioned.

Roman screams the first time he witnesses this in the light side house and Janus makes her wear his cape and at least put on a bra and shorts to spare Roman from wanting to bleach his brain.

Roman gets no reprieve from his chaos twin once she gets accepted and their rooms are conjoined again and Virgil always laughs at Roman’s stories of her chaos the previous night at breakfast.

(Again, sorry for the bullet fic from a not-working brain.)

[starlocked01]

The Shephard, The Noble, The Prince and His Reflection

Moceit Appreciation Week Day 5- Family

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31017926

Summary: Two boys at summer camp discover they have the same face and shortly after, burn down a shed. Their fathers come face to face with secrets and pain of the past, questions of the future as well as each other as they sort out how to keep the twins from getting separated again.

Word Count: 7.3K (holy frick I did not expect it to get this long at all)

Warnings: Adopted children and talk of foster care, Unsympathetic Virgil, Misgendering a trans character, Swearing, Arson, Alcohol, Food Mention, Reference to abuse (that never happened), brief non-sexual nudity

@moceit-appreciation-week

[mimssides]

Never Met You

Chapter 11: Love

You gave me a crown and a title. You accepted me with flaws and all. You gave me power over you and I gave you power over me in the most vulnerable way I know. I didn’t expect love to come for me anymore, but there you came and made my world bright and beautiful and worthwhile. Thank you, my agent of chaos.

The scream in the heart of the Theanan castle rang through the air. A veil was lifted and at once commoners as well as nobility realized what they had forgotten. The servants in the castle, the soldiers and weavers now realized who that weird new guard had been. They realized that they had joked, eaten and lived with their king.

Outside the Theanan boarders, three courts got in motion and the king in the North called for his older brother to immediately be brought to him.

But within the stone walls of the castle Logan didn’t pay any mind to these things. No, he ran. He ran back through the tunnel, threw his jacket off, didn’t turn around when he lost his crown. The backroom, the halls, the gate to the inner courtyard and finally the tents with the hurt soldiers. They all passed by him in a blur.

But the moment Logan entered the tent where his Remus was in, everything became painfully clear again. On a cot between four other men lay the king in a white robe. His hair was sticking to his forehead from sweat and his eyes were closed.

Everyone, except for another man sleeping on the bed to Remus’s right, was looking at Remus and Logan felt his legs give in. Hastily he stumbled forwards and just managed to kneel down to the side of Remus’s bed before he would have fallen without any control over it. And as Logan knelt and watched Remus’s face for the first time which felt like an eternity, tears welled up in his eyes. There he was, the man he adored, he loved, he had married.

Suppressing a whimper Logan looked through the room, searching for a physician or nurse. He spotted a woman next to the door, her eyes wide as plates and her face unspeakably pale.

“How is he?” Logan managed to say despite his voice cracking.

The nurse bowed her head and gulped before daring to say: “He- His Majesty is stable. The wound seems to be healing well and miraculously no vitals were severely damaged through the attack. I will get his physician, who will be able to tell you more, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Logan said under tears and the nurse left the tent in a hurry to find the physician who had treated Remus.

In the meantime, Logan gingerly took Remus’s left hand with his own left. Something made a small clacking sound as they touched and Logan looked down on his hand. His ring was back again and so was Remus’s.

More and more all what had happened sunk in and Logan started to cry. He tried to be quiet to not disturb the other soldiers but all of it came down on him and it felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside. By the time Roman, Janus and Virgil finally entered the tent, Logan was positively sobbing.

Roman joined by his side mere moments later. Hushed whispers came up around them, the presence of both kings and the prince in a tiny tent being too unordinary for no one to not say anything about it. Usually, Janus would have stopped the talking with a single glare, but in the face of everything he could not bother himself to scold them. It was hard enough for himself to not break down at the sight of his oldest friend lying motionlessly in a bed because he had let him become the guard of his own husband. And so, Janus told Virgil to sit with them and waited for the either a nurse or a physician to return shortly.

In the next half hour Janus eventually got an update of Remus’s state, which was everything considered much better than Janus could have hoped, had both Roman and Logan calmed down and gotten them up from the floor where they had been kneeling. Now he stood with Virgil at the entrance of the tent, Roman sitting on the bed close to Remus’s feet and Logan sat on a stool still holding his husband’s hand.

Virgil shot Janus a look. He simply shook his head. No, he wasn’t fine but there was no time for him now. Logan was one of the hardest people to crack but being together with Remus for ten years, being married to the man for eight and then suddenly being cut off him without even knowing it, had done the trick. And he didn’t even want to think about how terrible all of this had to be for Roman. No, just looking at the prince gave him enough of an idea what was going on in his head.

It was time for Janus to get his mind off all of this. He needed to find out how the other courts reacted, what George was doing now and who the fuck had made a deal with a demon. He just had to leave the tent. Which was easy. Virgil could protect them. No one should come for them now.

“What do you need?”

Janus flinched and looked up to Virgil.

“What do you mean?”

Virgil shook his head and looked over to the bed and then back to Janus as he put his hand on his shoulder.

“You’re trying to convince yourself to get out of here and I think it’s stupid. The king is important to you. Just as important as Ro or I are. Just stay. Tell me what you need and I’ll go get it.”

No time to be emotional. No time to feel guilty. It was enough that Logan as well as Roman were out of order. He couldn’t slack off now.

But if he would let Remus out of his sight me might break out in tears.

The decision was made for him.

Logan held Remus’s hand tightly but not too tight. His other hand was resting on his stomach. Thoughts were flooding his mind and new tears formed once more in eyes despite his best efforts to stop them from running. He barely registered Virgil’s voice in the background, nor how Roman slid towards him to put his hand comfortingly on his back.

Movement from beneath his hand sent a shiver up his spine. He looked from his hand to Remus’s face and found his eyelids twitch slightly. He squeezed his hand in reflex and Remus squeezed back. Green eyes flickered open and before truly seeing what was in front of him his eyes already darted towards Logan.

“Your Ma-” Remus slurred but was cut off.

“Remus!”

The name came out with panic and relief and adoration. Logan didn’t know what to feel, how to express it and what to do but it all became clear just after a few moments. A few moments, which Remus needed to understand where he was, to realize that this indeed was Logan crying over him and that he had just heard his actual name for the first time in months.

“Oh, my brilliant bastard,” Remus said fondly and reached with his free hand for Logan’s face.

Finally, he got to smile the too wide and too inappropriate smile of his again. Finally, he could see Logan eye to eye again. Finally, he had his life back.

And to celebrate this he put his other hand on Logan’s shoulder and pulled him with all the dizzy might he had in a kiss. Logan reciprocated sloppily and after a few seconds broke away as giggles and hiccups shook through him. Remus didn’t mind and pulled him close. Under his breath he cursed as he realized how sore and aching he felt and just then Logan helped him lay down with gentle hands.

As Remus’s head was resting on the pillow again, he whispered to Logan: “You’re too kind. I’m not made of glass, you know?”

“I’ve gathered,” Logan hiccupped quietly. “Any other human being would have died of such a wound. What on earth were you thinking? What did she-”

“Wait a sec, darling,” Remus interrupted and blinked.

The longest thirty seconds of silence passed. Just that it wasn’t silent exactly. And that was what Remus had been listening for.

With a spark of mischief but mostly fondness Remus asked Logan: “Could you look under my bed?”

Logan looked like a third eye had just sprouted on Remus’s forehead.

“Come on! Humour me,” Remus pouted.

Usually, Logan would not have humoured Remus’s silly request. Not in front of his solider, even less in the presence of Janus. But today he would let it slide. Shooting Remus a stink-eye he pushed himself back from the bed and lifted the sheet, which was dangling over the side of the bed, hiding what was underneath it. He blinked. And then he smiled.

Gently Logan pushed his chair back further, shared a short glance with Remus and crouched. He lowered his head and looked under the shabby cot.

“And there I thought that monsters wouldn’t live under beds,” Logan said softly. “What a scary little monster you are. You were trying to get to our king, weren’t you?”

And then there was a pause where the whole room heard a little sniffle and how something shuffled under the bed. Perplexed they all stared as Logan crouched down further and stretched his hand under the bed.

“There, there. No need to feel afraid. No one is mad. Would you do me the favour and show me your scary face, little monster?”

And after a few seconds they watched as little hands grabbed Logan’s arm and the king pulled a little boy with curly hair out from under the bed. Roman gaped from the end of the bed and little Patton grappled Logan’s arm even closer as he heard the noise. Parentally Logan shooed him and quickly checked if he could see anything out of the ordinary with him but luckily found nothing. With his free hand Logan took a clean handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe Patton’s face down. Patton tried to duck out from it and stopped to sniffle but Logan was persistent and eventually had been able to clean his face up.

“Now you look like a dashing monster. Much better, isn’t it?” Logan asked with a grin.

Patton pouted but a little smile broke through when he heard the voice from behind him.

“Hey, there Pat. Did you want to check on me?” Remus said and promptly had the little boy sitting directly in front of his face as he jumped up on the bed.

With some struggle Remus sat up again, mindful of the bandages and the pain from below his ribs. He didn’t want to tear anything but he really wanted to see eye to eye with Patton. And as he finally sat with his eyes glued to the floor, Patton nodded his head fiercely but kept his lips shut close as if he was afraid to speak.

“Patton, what is it? Why aren’t you looking at me?” Remus asked and tried to catch Patton’s gaze.

Patton’s eyes were red and puffy but he managed to get himself to look up. And yet despite his sad look and uncertainty, Remus saw something mighty shine within him.

With a tiny voice Patton asked: “Do you still want me now? I’m just a little kid. Why would you want me?”

How well Remus understood that question. How well he could feel the pain and doubt in it. He knew that he had to and would destroy that doubt, no matter how. He tapped on Patton’s cheek and made a funny face, which made his little boy smile.

“Well, for starters,” Remus said next, “I promised you to give you a soft bed in our home and goodnight stories and kisses every night. And that’s a lot easier now because I won’t have to ask JJ to give me a raise to buy a bed. And more importantly, me not wanting you? Very unlikely. So, so very unlikely. I mean who would turn down a kid, who is kind and brave like you? Who would turn down a kid who says hello to the most feared guard of Prince Roman? Who would turn down a kid who has broken into castle for snacks and to check on his friend? And who would turn down a kid who has taught a king how to clean a pan and how to use the public bathhouse?”

Remus pulled Patton into a hug. Patton’s tears sank into Remus’s shirt but he didn’t mind. He just held him and looked to Roman at the foot of the bed with a gentle pledge in his eyes to wait just a moment longer. He had to take care of his boy first.

“Oh Pat, how could I turn you down when you are the reason why I have stayed here? Because I planned on leaving the castle that day when we met. I planned on leaving all behind because it hurt so much that they didn’t remember me. Because of you I stayed. Because of you I got everything back and even more.”

Remus exchanged look with Logan. He nodded with tears in his eyes. Carefully, Remus pulled Patton back and ran his finger over his wet cheek, feeling himself tearing up.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got a son.”

And there the tear dropped.

“If you want to us to be your dads, of course.”

“I get both of you?!” Patton shouted excitedly and looked from Remus to Logan.

“We are kind of a package deal,” Logan said and pointed to his ring finger, “so yes. If you wish so we can become your parents.”

“Yes, please! And I don’t even have to make you become a couple!” Patton cried joyously and jumped around Logan’s neck who barely managed to catch him in time.

Remus shot Logan a pointed look but didn’t ask what that statement had been about. Soothingly Logan picked Patton up, explained to him that they had to let the physicians and nurses do their job and let them take care of Remus. Patton barely resisted. He had been hiding under Remus’s bed for a long while and it had exhausted him quite a bit. When Logan stood face to face with Janus, told him to stay with Remus while he would see what he needed to attend to, Patton had fallen asleep in his arms.

“You’re sure he’s not overworking himself?” Remus asked as he shifted in his bed.

After months of sleeping in a hard uncomfortable bed, his own matrass had felt foreign. But with Logan by his side, despite them not being able to cuddle, since Remus had still to heal quite a bit, things had been bearable.

Roman was sitting on the edge of his bed and rolled his eyes at Remus’s question as he said: “As if we would let him do that. I promise we won’t let him do anything too taxing. He's been with Pat for most of the time actually. I’ve done most of the work with Jan’s help.”

Remus pursed his lips and Roman sighed.

“It’s been a day since we remembered. You need to give him time. Jan feels like he’s failed you and you know what happened the last time his family ‘failed’.”

“I was a kid!” Remus grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Our parents had just died and I just wanted something to make sense. I know Jove hasn’t been responsible for any of this. He didn’t break his oath... Neither did Jan.”

Roman nodded and took his hand. Remus let him and watched Roman for a few minutes. They had spoken a bit after Logan had left but there were still many questions that needed to be addressed.

“They’ll ask at some point why I knew how to fight,” Remus began unusually subdued.

Roman shot him a glance. He shook his head.

“Don’t be like that. It was my idea, so I’ll take the blame. Mom didn’t want us to learn how to fight because of me, and you just had to follow through to not make me suspicious. But frankly, at this point I don’t even know if I can fall into a blood rage. I mean, I sat in our parents' blood and it didn’t happen.”

“True.”

“Still makes me a demon, I know. Don’t remind me.”

Remus snickered and slapped Roman’s arm.

“I didn’t even say anything, but I guess that happens with an identical twin...”

Roman mused over the next words for a while. He knew had gotten the better deal in the end. The younger brother. The spare. Being a demon had always frightened him but with Remus by his side everything had seemed easier. Janus helped him figuring his powers and strengths out and was also a pillar of support in his youth.

A deep inhale. Roman caught Remus’s eyes. He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“I think it’s time we tell them,” Roman finally said.

Remus sunk deeper into his pillow and grimaced. He had expected that Roman would want to take that step. They both had wanted to take that step for a long while but Janus had told them to hold back.

A thread of humour pulled at the corner of Remus’s mouth and he said: “I wanted to for a while. But now would be a good time. Especially since the curse was the Dragon Witch’s doing. It will be easier to explain to them why she did what she did to me. Still don’t know how Virgil hadn’t figured you out. Like, has he his eyes closed in the bedroom or does he have a fetish for blindfolds?”

“No, you dumbass! He thinks they’re tattoos!” Roman whined.

“Tattoos? That’s hilarious! How did he get that idea?”

“I don’t know man! He just assumed and it’s not like everyone knows what demon marks look like. It’s a fair guess from him. Don’t make fun of it!”

Remus continued to laugh as Roman whined and hit him once more in the arm. It didn’t do anything to stop Remus from teasing but at least Roman felt like he had at least tried to defend his partner’s honour. But after a while Remus finally had laughed his last laugh and the twins sat there in silence. There was another thing that was weighing down on Remus’s chest and he wasn’t sure how he should breach the topic.

“Pat will be in good hands. You’re just as good as dad was.”

Remus’s heart stopped beating. Roman looked at him fondly, like Remus never could.

“I’ve noticed when you came to protect me. You’ll do well. Pat’s lucky and so are we. Finally, his wish is going to be fulfilled; no more demons on the throne. With us this chapter will be finally over,” Roman said and laid his arm around Remus’s shoulder.

For the remaining time Roman stayed in Remus’s room, the brothers just held onto each other. It was scary for them to let go of their secret but at the same time both of them looked forward to it. They wanted to be seen. Wanted to be free of their past and somehow, through this tragedy they have gotten a chance they never could have dreamt of.

The war had officially been called off. King George had sent an official apology to Theana, promised a relief fund and had backed out of the alliance talks between the four kingdoms for the time being. In a letter directed at Remus and Logan he relied that Jean had been responsible for what had happened to Remus. He had fallen into madness and was beyond reason, which was why he had him removed from his position and thrown him into the dungeon. There was going to be a trial when they had more evidence for his treacherous alliance with the Dragon Witch. But if they wished they could weigh into the sentence, since they had been the most affected by his actions.

It had been Janus who responded to George’s letters. Remus was still resting for the week, and while he had read the letter, he did not feel up for making a decision over a life sentence. And while Logan was more than willing to speak a few words with the king they had decided together that they should give George a bit of rest as well. He had been a friend for a long time and while Jean was a terrible person, he was the remainder of George’s family and that was a hard truth to come back from.

And so, Janus had answered, that they thanked him for his information and offer but would for the time being hold off with a comment, since the royal couple was still recovering from the past months before they would decide on such a difficult topic.

But this was not the only thing which had kept Janus busy. He had to redo all of the warding symbols around the castle, had to answer messages from Scites and Kainen, had to keep the court in order, had to get the papers ready for Patton’s adoption. There was no time for him to sit around and chat. There was certainly no time to visit Remus now that he was supposed to be resting. Indeed, it was his duty to not disturb him to guarantee a quick recovery and-

“Hey JanJan.”

Janus jumped around. In a white nightgown stood Remus in front of him. Janus looked around, making sure that his head was not playing any tricks with his mind. But no, this was Remus standing behind him even though there was no way that he could have approached him from the direction he had been coming from.

“The secret passages pretty practical for getting around quickly. I found them when we were 10 or so. Dad said to keep them secret,” he explained a little sheepish and scratched the back of his neck.

Janus scoffed and wiped away some non existing dust from his sleeves. He would not give Remus the satisfaction of having startled him. Thank you very much.

“Come on! I didn't mean to startle you!”

“You should be in bed.”

Janus tried to turn around and walk away. Emphasis on tried. Despite everything Remus managed to close the distance between them and grabbed him by the arm. Viciously he charged towards him and lost all his vigour the second he saw his best friend’s sad look.

“Jan, please stop avoiding me!”

Angrily Janus pursed his lips and yanked his arm away from Remus’s grasp but didn’t attempt to flee anymore. He didn’t want to leave Remus. And so he stood and glanced up to Remus with and expectant look and a seemingly cold expression, Remus knew was as fake as the smile on Logan’s face when he had to listen and gossip with nobility over other nobles.

“I know it’s been a lot on you and I absolutely get that you are stressed but -” Remus voice cracked and he continued quietly – “I don’t wanna be without my best friend any longer! Ro ’s my heart, Lo ’s my lifeline but they’re nothing without you… I’m nothing without you. You’re my bestest friend, and I didn’t get the chance to talk with you about the fact that I’ll be a dad soon! A dad! And you’ll be an uncle and help me not spoil the cute little brat rotten and-”

A cracked whine cut Remus of and without thinking he pulled Janus in a hug. They quickly shuffled into Janus’s office and finally took the time to address what had been bothering them. Janus confessed his regret and shame of distrusting Remus and making him work so hard, even though it was his job to take care of him and protecting him. Remus listened and admitted that it had stung at first but he understood Janus’s dedication to his position and thanked him for keeping Logan safe during his absence. He thanked him for being there for him despite not knowing it was him and swore that he was not angry with him at all for doing his job.

And finally, Remus could tell somebody how much it hurt to be so close with all of them without being able to tell them who he was. He told how much it cost him to restrain himself, how much he hated every second of it, how Patton had been the only one to keep him from turning crazy. The longer he talked the more he marvelled over the boy and Janus found himself smiling at his adoration. It was the same passion and love he had seen in Aneas and Rhea’s parenting of the twins and Janus knew that Remus would do well as a father.

Eventually, Janus got reminded of the time and the two got to up for dinner. With sparkling eyes Logan greeted Remus and Patton tackled in a hug. Excitedly he told Remus that he and Daddy had gone to the physician and showed off the glasses he had been given. Remus smiled at every word and just waved at Roman and Virgil when they joined for dinner.

This felt like things had finally fallen into place.

That same evening Patton had convinced Remus that he should be allowed to sleep in ins dads’ bed this evening because it was a very special day. When Remus asked what was so special about today Patton had simply said: “It’s today and it’s only once today, and it’s also the fourth night that I have two dads and it’s very special to me!”

To that Remus had no objections and helped Patton get into his pyjamas and tucked him into their bed after he had gotten ready himself. Animatedly he told Patton a goodnight story and watched as he fell asleep despite his best efforts to stay awake.

A few moments passed and Remus heard the door to the bathroom opening and turned around. There was his Logan, in all his beauty. His long hair was hanging down to his midback for once, the dark blue nightgown falling gently down his sides. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” Remus whispered.

A smile broad and wobbly spread on Logan’s lips. With happy and big steps, he walked towards his husband and took him by the hands. Squeezed them and twirled the two of them in a circle before he stopped and kissed Remus on the forehead.

This was odd. Amazing but odd. Logan didn’t do sweet and mushy stuff usually.

“What is up, my bug? Just happy to see me?” Remus said with a suggestive lilt in his voice.

Logan snorted, pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. Now Remus was beginning to worry and his found himself cupping Logan’s cheeks and quietly shooing his husband tears away. But Logan smiled and took Remus’s hand and pressed his palm against his lip. He kissed it gently and shook his head with a serene expression.

“I am more than happy, my star. What I am feeling is beyond words and beyond everything I could ever imagine, my love,” Logan said and guided Remus’s hands down to his waist.

Remus held him and looked at him with a worried frown but Logan kept on grinning.

“You brought us home a son. After five years we finally get to be parents. And of such a wonderful boy. Who would dare to wish for more?”

Remus relaxed and said in a breath: “Yeah, who would? It’s unbelievable.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Logan bit his lips. A teary laugh shook him.

“What if we’d be blessed with a second one after trying so long?”

Remus’s mind blanked. His eyes went wide and his hands tightened around Logan’s waist. He opened his mouth but the words escaped him.

To his luck his husband knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

“I had my suspicions when we got our memories back and today finally got to see my gynaecologist when I went to the court physician with Patton. And she said I’m along the 12th to 14th week. And that the baby seems to be okay so far.”

Had Remus been uninjured he would have lifted Logan from the ground and spun him around in circles. Instead, he kissed him. Kissed him deeply and passionately before they broke off with delirious laughs on their lips and pulled each other towards the bed. They sat down and looked to the sleeping Patton thinking about how he would hopefully be excited to be a big brother.

They looked into each other’s’ eyes for a moment, before Logan broke the eye contact and took Remus’s hand. Gently, he laid it on his belly. He wasn’t showing much yet. This was his first child and he didn’t gain too much weight over the last months but there had grown a little round line over the last two weeks and finally he had an answer to as why. A wonderful answer.

Logan watched Remus look at his middle in awe and then look back at him with this look of absolute and utter adoration. Logan could only hope that his own gaze reflected the same.

“You’re wonderful,” Remus whispered.

He leaned forwards and Logan met him in the middle, their foreheads touching lightly.

And Logan answered finally after so many days: “And you’re ridiculously breathtaking, my agent of chaos.”

___

Link for AO3, Taglist, Masterlist, and next Chapters are in my first reblog!  

[anxious-chaos-art]

Remus: DO YOUR EXERCISE YOU LAZY BITCH!!!!

Trans! Roman: NO >:((((

Remus: I WILL CUT YOUR BALLS OFF!!!!

Trans! Roman: HAH JOKES ON YOU I DON'T HAVE ANY!!!!

Remus: I'LL ATTACH SOME!!!!

Trans! Roman: ... you'll WHAT????

Trans! Roman: HOW THE FUCK-

[darth-does-stuff]

thinkin about the trumans living in a cabin in the woods

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

one chance to change your fate - chapter 4

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas, Nico Flores, Dragon Witch (villain) Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Loceit, Dukexiety, Royality, background Karrot Kings Warnings: Language, some sexual humor/vaguely implied sexual content, a lot of self negativity from Roman Word count: 9278 Notes: a big BIG thank you to my awesome beta @yougoodfahm! 

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

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Chapter 4

Two days later, Logan was awoken by a soft yet insistent ringing in his ears—the alarm spell he’d set up to go off every morning, about half an hour before he and Janus needed to get up. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers to turn the noise off. 

He turned his attention to Janus, who was still fast asleep, lying facing him on their side; their arms were loosely wrapped around his waist and their face was nuzzled against his bare chest, the warm down coverlet tucked snugly up around their neck. Some of their hair had worked its way free of the braid they wore it to sleep in and instead trailed in wisps along their cheek. Logan reached down and gently smoothed the loose hair back, gathering it together and tucking it behind Janus’s ear; their cheek was warm and soft, their face relaxed. 

Logan tipped his head to press a kiss to Janus’s forehead, gently nudging at their shoulder. “Good morning, dear,” he said softly. 

Janus made a sleepy noise of complaint, shifting closer to him. Not quite awake, but stirring. Logan smiled and shook them again. “Janus.” 

“Mmnh,” Janus grumbled, worming still closer. “G’way.” 

“It’s time to wake up, my love.” Logan kissed their forehead again. 

“Nooooo,” Janus whined, squeezing their eyes tighter shut. 

Logan rubbed his hand up and down their back. “It really is, my dear.” 

Janus wrinkled their nose, still not opening their eyes. “Sleep,” they mumbled. 

“Well, I need to get up, then,” Logan tried. 

As he’d expected, Janus’s eyes flew open and they tightened their grip around him. “No.”  

Logan chuckled. “Good morning.” 

“Mmh,” Janus mumbled, burying their face in his chest. 

Logan stroked their hair and waited patiently for a minute; when Janus showed no further signs of stirring, he let his hand come to a rest on the back of their head. “You never answered my question the other day,” he said. 

There was a pause. 

“What?” Janus tipped their head back to blink up at him in bleary confusion. 

Logan resumed stroking their hair. “Day before yesterday, at dinner. When Roman and Remus were asking about your terribly mysterious partner. I asked you what you thought my favorite thing about you is.” 

“Oh.” Janus blinked some more, seeming marginally more awake. “Obviously my ass.” 

Logan flicked their ear gently. “Dear.” 

“My mouth?” Janus tried with a smirk that was too sleepy to be as suggestive as they clearly intended it to be. 

“Janus. I’m serious.” 

Janus wrinkled their nose and closed their eyes again. “That’s no fun.” 

Logan waited, running his finger up and down along their cheek. 

“I dunno,” Janus mumbled. “Probably something sappy. You’re nice like that.” 

Logan smiled and cupped the side of their face in his hand. “You’re my favorite everything,” he murmured. “How clever you are. How beautiful. The way you notice every little detail. Your fierceness. Your humor. Your gorgeous scales. How stubborn you are. Your smile. Your—”

Janus rolled to lie on top of Logan and kissed him, deep and hard and still a little sleep-clumsy, warm lips sliding against his as they cradled the back of his head in their hand. Logan let his hands rest on their back, one on the small of it and one higher up tracing gentle patterns with his fingers, as he lazily reciprocated the kiss; it tasted of morning breath, but Janus was so soft and clingy and warm in the mornings that they never failed to melt him anyway. 

Janus pulled back, green eyes inches from Logan’s own brown ones. “You taste bad,” they told him with a petty little pout. 

“Somehow, between you stopping me from getting up to brush my teeth and you being the one who kissed me, I fail to see how that is even marginally my fault,” Logan responded, trying not to sound as amused as he felt. 

Janus pouted harder. Logan reached to catch one of their hands in his own, and, with a little awkward maneuvering of elbows, brought it to his lips to kiss. “If we get up, we can both brush our teeth,” he suggested. 

Janus laced their fingers through his. “It’s so cold, though,” they whined. 

“It is not that cold. Living quarters in the palace never drop below sixty-five degrees, and it’s nearly summer.” 

“Shut up with your facts. I’m cold,” Janus grumbled, pointedly grabbing the edge of the comforter and dragging it up to their chin once again. 

Logan conceded this point. Janus did run very cold, to the point where Logan wondered if it was another spillover effect of the curse, like their scales; they were only so warm like this in the early mornings, after a full night cuddled against him under the covers. At any other time, their fingers would be almost icy, and their lips would be cool when they pressed against his. 

“If you let me get up, I can restart the fire,” Logan offered. 

Janus grumbled some more, but rolled off of him, pulling the comforter with them and retreating into it until they were hardly visible beneath it. 

Logan sat up and tucked his feet into his slippers. He rose, bent back down to press a kiss to Janus’s forehead—earning a soft sigh of content—and crossed to the fireplace, still warm and full of banked embers. It was the work of only a few moments to add some fuel and use a simple spell to properly restart the fire. He pulled a pair of breeches and a pale green shirt out of his closet, then moved to the door of the washroom and traced the glyph on the door, activating the water-warming charm he’d set up on it when he’d first moved in. He brushed his teeth and splashed water—not yet more than lukewarm, but he didn’t mind that nearly as much as Janus would—on his face, then changed quickly into the clothes. Buttoning the collar of his shirt, Logan reemerged from the washroom into the bedroom. He picked up Janus’s fluffy yellow dressing gown off the chair they’d discarded it on last night, and returned to the bed. 

“We do need to get up,” he reminded Janus. “And it’s getting warm now.” He offered the dressing gown. 

Janus made a wordless noise of complaint, but sat up and let him wrap them in the garment, pouting up at him all the while. “I hate waking up so early.” 

“It’s nearly nine,” Logan commented with a raised eyebrow, going back to the fireplace to check that the spell had lasted long enough for the wood to properly catch, then to his closet for a waistcoat in the same shade of emerald green as his breeches. 

“Yes, and?” Janus stretched languidly, sliding their toes into their fur-lined slippers as they did so. “I see absolutely no reason to not lounge about in bed all day.” 

Logan gave them an unimpressed look, buttoning his waistcoat. “Darling, we start work in an hour.” 

Janus closed their eyes, pouted, and shook their head. “That’s so boring. There are so many more fun things we could be doing instead.” They held out their hands palms-up imperiously, waiting until Logan crossed the room and placed his hands in theirs. 

“I’ll make you tea if you get up,” he coaxed, as he did nearly every morning, smiling a little at the familiar routine. 

“Hmm, bribery.” Janus gazed up at him through their lashes, raising one of his hands to their lips. “You do know just the way to my heart.” 

Logan moved his hand to cup their cheek, and they leaned into the touch, tilting their head to the side; their braid slipped off their shoulder, exposing the side of their neck. 

He blinked. “Ah, Janus?” 

“Yes, my everything?” 

He moved his other hand to the side of their neck. “You might want to wear something over this.” He passed his thumb lightly over a hickey that was both darker and higher up on their neck than he’d thought it would be last night. 

Janus’s breath hitched at the touch and their eyelashes fluttered. “Ah,” they said with a composure that was nearly uncracked. “That’s probably a good idea, yes.” 

Logan held back a smirk and ran his thumb over the hickey again; Janus let out a half-stifled, breathy sigh, tipping their head back. “Logan.”  

“Yes, dear?” he inquired innocently. 

“That is unfairly hot and you know it.” 

“Oh, really?” He dropped his hands to his sides and took a half-step back. “So, tea?” 

Janus squawked in indignation at the loss of his touch. Logan gave them his blandest smile just to needle them further, offering his hand to help them to their feet. 

Janus sniffed haughtily, but accepted the hand and made their way over to an armchair by the fire to curl their knees up to their chest and pout some more over the general concept of being awake. 

Logan left the bedroom to the living area and put the kettle on, pulling out Janus’s favorite cups and the breakfast tea they both liked. The kettle hadn’t yet begun to whistle by the time Janus, their hair now loosened from its braid, shuffled out from the bedroom, came up behind him, and slid their arms around him, bending down and nestling their face in the crook of his neck. 

“Did you get lonesome?” he inquired, reaching up to pat their cheek once in acknowledgement as he continued measuring tea leaves. 

Janus nodded into his neck, not relinquishing him until the kettle demanded his attention; then they hopped up to sit on the counter and kicked their heels. 

“Do you want to get dressed before breakfast arrives?” Logan inquired as he poured the water into the two cups. Breakfast came from the kitchens, delivered fresh and warm at nine-thirty or thereabouts; it would arrive before long. 

Janus sighed, adjusting their dressing gown. “Probably.” 

Logan set the now-empty kettle down beside the teacups and offered Janus a hand to help them back down to the ground. 

“I brushed my teeth,” they announced, landing lightly on their feet and not releasing his hand. 

Logan laughed and drew them close. “Did you, now?” 

“Mmhm.” Janus grinned and leaned down to press their forehead against his, wrapping their arms around his neck. “You can check. If you want.” 

Logan threaded his fingers through their hair, leaning still closer and brushing their noses together. “But I trust your word, love,” he breathed, and Janus shivered in his arms, their eyes widening noticeably on the word trust . “Why would I need to—”

Janus seized his face in their hands and cut him off with an enthusiastic kiss, pressing close against him and all but drinking him in. Logan smiled against their lips and relaxed into the kiss; their mouth did indeed taste fresh, and their early-morning warmth hadn’t quite worn off yet. They sighed into his mouth and pulled away, a delightfully besotted look in their eyes. 

“I love you,” he told them, for good measure, and relished the pink that sprung to their cheeks. 

“You’re a sap,” Janus mumbled, looking away and putting their hand in his. 

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, following them as they tugged him back into the bedroom. As they rummaged around in their own closet, Logan located the rest of his own outfit—mint green coat, pale yellow cravat, plain white socks, and gleaming black shoes with just a bit of extra height built into the soles. He sat on the end of the bed to put on the socks and shoes, leaving the coat and cravat lying beside him. 

Janus emerged, wearing a yellow turtleneck that would safely hide the hickey on their neck from the princes; the shirt was paired with high-waisted black pants and black suspenders. They wordlessly crossed the room, sat on the bed beside him, picked up his cravat, and held it up. Logan turned up the collar of his shirt obligingly and bent his head. 

They wrapped the cravat around his neck and began tying it with gentle fingers. “I love you too,” they announced after a moment. “What’s the general plan for the day?” 

“Well, it’s going to—thank you, dear,” he broke off to say, as Janus tucked the end of the cravat into his waistcoat and turned his collar back down. He continued, “It’s going to be a rough day for Remus now that the deadline is past and things are really cemented into place. So I’ll be trying to keep the preparations out of his hair as much as I can.”

Janus nodded and kissed his cheek, helping him into the jacket. 

Logan hesitated, turning his phrasing over in his head before he went on. “We may want to try to encourage him and Roman to give each other some space.” Janus had given Logan to understand that Roman had promised to work things out with Patton and his fathers last night; with Roman thus exempt from the competition, Remus was bound to be jealous and upset—not without reason, either. 

Janus nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard; I’m sure I can just send him out to the gardens and he’ll be gone all day.” They looked themself up and down in the mirror, eyeing their outfit critically, then went back to the closet and reemerged with a pair of black fingerless gloves made of shiny leather. “There,” they said, satisfied, just as there was a knock at the door in the next room. That would be breakfast. 

“Come in,” Logan called. 

As the kitchen staff laid out the breakfast on the table in the next room, Logan fixed his hair in the washroom; Janus, meanwhile, brushed their hair and drew it back in a loose ponytail, then hovered in the doorway of the washroom impatiently until Logan gave them a turn with the counterspace to pull out their makeup and draw on thin, sharp wings of black eyeliner. 

Logan headed out into the kitchen to sweeten the tea he’d brewed earlier; he was just in time to call a “thank you” after the people who’d brought up the breakfast as they were on their way out. He added sugar to Janus’s tea and honey to his, then brought the cups—just reaching the perfect temperature—to the table. He went back to rummage in the cupboard above the sink. 

“Need help?” Janus inquired over his shoulder. He hadn’t consciously heard them come in, but he didn’t startle. 

“I’ve got it, thank you—would you mind serving?” Logan nodded towards the table. 

“Of course.” Janus busied themself filling two plates as Logan pulled down the two jars stored on the top shelf: the hormone replacement potions he brewed in bulk every month. He measured out the potions carefully into two little cups with an easy precision born of some seven years’ practice. He’d become a wizard specifically to study gender-related magic; it was listed as his specialty on his certification degree, which he was rather proud of. He had been brewing his own hormone potion since he’d learned how, partly because it was just a little cheaper than buying prescription potions and partly as a point of pride. Once he’d gotten his official certification four years ago, he’d started making Janus’s potion for them, too. 

Theirs was very easy, based on a standard prescription formula; the finished potion was a shimmering pearly concoction containing a small dose of estrogen and a bit of jasmine flavoring to cover up the bitter flavor that potion bases tended to have. For his own potion, however, Logan had altered the prescribed formula just slightly—a fairly standard testosterone dosage in a potion flavored with loganberry extract that gave it a nice purple color. The flavor was pleasant, but, although he’d never admit it, he’d chosen it more for the name than the taste. (He had gotten into several arguments with Patton, when he visited Janus’s family with them on some of his days off, over whether it counted as a pun. Which, of course, was a ridiculous idea and not true in the slightest. Wordplay was quite different from puns, thank you very much.) He’d only implemented a few small tweaks to his original prescription, based on what Logan liked to call “research” and Janus liked to call “illegal magic experimentation done on your own body, what the actual hell, Logan, do you have no sense of self-preservation at all, you idiot?”  

This was, in Logan’s opinion, entirely unfair; he’d known exactly what the risks of the spells he’d done were, had been confident he could successfully navigate them, and, most importantly, he had been right. He hadn’t harmed himself, and he’d gotten what he insisted was a more accurate measurement of his own physiology and natural hormonal cycles. Based on that, he’d been able to customize the potion even better to his physical needs. The tweaks hadn’t been much, but in Logan’s opinion, they made all the difference. It was simply another advantage that home-brewed potions carried; you couldn’t get this kind of specificity in a drugstore-variety hormone potion. 

It hardly ought to count as illegal when he only ran the research spells on himself, anyway. He understood the ethical concerns of running those kinds of tests on someone else, of course, and would never do that, but he’d known what he was doing! Janus was simply being overprotective. Besides, between himself and Janus, he was the expert with an actual certification. The fact that he’d adamantly refused when Janus, annoyed, had challenged him to run the same tests on themself “to prove they’re so safe” meant nothing. It was simply an overabundance of caution. Nothing more. 

Now, finished with measuring out their potions’ daily doses, Logan sealed the jars and returned them to their shelf, then passed Janus their potion and took a seat at the table. Janus set a plate down in front of him; fruit, toast with his favorite jam, and scrambled eggs topped with salsa, all just how he liked them.

“Thank you, dear,” he said, accepting the fork they passed him. He tossed back his own potion, washed it down with a sip of his tea, and tucked in. He had a long day ahead of him; best to fuel up. 

  ***

  For one single moment when he woke up, Roman was content, staring up at his painted ceiling and snuggling under the covers. The delicate, brightly colored designs on the ceiling were abstract, the sort of art that made the eye jump to seek out patterns that didn’t exist: the perfect spark for creativity and imagination. He usually daydreamed in the mornings, slipping in and out of sleep, until Janus arrived to nag him to get up and start the day. And what better to daydream of than—

Patton. 

Roman was suddenly fully awake, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted more to throw up or to cry. 

The deadline had been yesterday. And Patton had said nothing. Because he didn’t know. Because Roman hadn’t told him, and had smiled and lied to Janus’s face yesterday when he promised he’d tell Patton how he felt and go to his fathers and get excused from the competition. 

And now Roman would have to marry a stranger from some far-off land. 

He suddenly understood exactly why Remus had been so antsy and distraught all month, so irritable and set off by the smallest thing. The competition had all seemed so surreal to Roman; it had been so easy to refocus instead on his near-daily meetings with Patton that he swore were getting more and more openly flirtatious by the hour, and to shove the competition to the back of his mind and believe it wouldn’t affect him. Patton’s face had pinched up with worry whenever it came up, anyway; Roman hardly wanted to upset him discussing it. 

Guilt rolled in his stomach. Patton was going to be crushed. Precious, sweet Patton, who deserved nothing but joy and light in his life—he was going to try and hide it for Roman’s sake, but Roman knew better, and—oh, Janus had been right all along. 

He had been so stupid.  

Roman rolled over, pulled the nearest pillow over his head, and let the tears flow. 

He wasn’t sure how long he cried, tiny little sniffles interspersed with choked sobs, curling tighter and tighter in on himself in a vain, desperate search for comfort, but eventually the tears dried up into a sort of numb horror, his mind circling around and around through worse and worse thoughts. 

Patton was going to cry. Patton was going to hate him. Patton was going to pretend it was okay, because Patton was sweet and kind and thoughtful and so, so good, but it wouldn’t be okay, not even a little bit, and they’d both know it. Patton was never going to talk to him again. Patton was never going to give him flowers again. Never going to laugh at Roman’s stories, never going to light up when he thought of the perfect pun, never going to stumble over his words in an eager, laughing babble as he told Roman about his day, never going to look at Roman like he could be happy forever. 

Roman was going to marry a stranger, and Patton was going to move on and never think about him again, and Roman wasn’t sure which of those things was worse. He could feel the tears and snot starting to dry on his face, but he didn’t care enough to do anything about it. 

There was a knock on the door. “Roman?” Janus called, voice light and far too chipper. They waited a beat, then came in when he didn’t respond. “Time to get up, lover boy,” they announced, dragging the wide drapes open and flooding the room with sunlight. “I was thinking we could—Roman?” 

Roman made a wordless noise of misery, burrowing a little deeper under his covers. 

“Roman?” Janus said again, a distinct note of concern working its way into their voice. They moved over to his bed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

“No,” Roman mumbled. 

They sat on the bed beside him and lifted the pillow he’d hidden his head beneath. He flinched away from the too-bright morning light. “What happened?” They searched his face, their eyes wide and bewildered, pulling out a handkerchief and offering it as he sat up. 

Roman wiped his nose and looked away, gut twisting with the sudden realization that he really, really didn’t want to know what Janus’s reaction to finding out would be. 

“He—Patton didn’t say no, did he?” Janus said disbelievingly. “Roman?” They gripped his shoulder again, fingers clinging tight with worry. “He didn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Not to you. Would he?” They hesitated, mind clearly racing. “Did your fathers—?” they began. 

Roman shook his head. 

“What happened?” Janus pressed once more. 

Roman winced and curled in on himself. 

“Roman?” 

And there it was. A note of horror. The truth had occurred to them. 

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing it wasn’t enough. 

Janus took him by both shoulders and turned him to face them. “Roman, what did you do?”  

Roman hung his head. His voice came out in a mumble that promptly cracked and fell to a whisper that shrank smaller and smaller as he went on. “I—I didn’t—Ididn’ttellhimaboutit.” 

Janus hesitated. “Say that again,” they said, rising anger warring with a pleading tone. Pleading with him to say anything else or tell them they’d misheard him. 

Roman bit his lip. “I—” A lump rose in his throat, and he stopped, twisting the handkerchief back and forth in his hands. 

“Roman,” Janus begged, their grip tightening on his shoulders once again, a vice-like pinch through Roman’s silk pajamas. 

Roman looked up at them. They were staring desperately at him. 

He hadn’t even thought about how this would hurt them, too. How could he have been so selfish?  

“I didn’t talk to him about it,” Roman forced through his suddenly wobbling lips. 

The stricken look on Janus’s face would have been enough to make Roman cry at the best of times, and now was certainly not the best of times. As their hands slipped off his shoulders to rest slack in their lap, Roman shrank back, hiding his face in his hands, tears overwhelming him once more. 

“I’m sorry, Janus,” he choked out. 

Janus got to their feet, not meeting his eyes. “Get dressed,” they said tonelessly. They turned and walked out. The door shut without so much as a slam, but Roman didn’t find that reassuring in the slightest. 

He could just hear Logan and Remus’s voices through the door, raised in concerned, questioning tones. Janus didn’t answer them, or if they did, not loud enough for Roman to make out their voice over his own sobs. 

He wanted nothing more than to pull the covers back over his head and cry the day away; but Janus had told him to get up. The least he could do was oblige them. 

Roman took several deep, gasping breaths and pulled himself together shakily, swallowing the tears back until he could wipe his face and blow his nose and force himself up out of bed and across the room to his closet. 

He dressed in the first clothes that came to hand, splashed cold water on his face, tried not to cry again at the sight of his tear-splotched face in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, failed, changed to a new shirt that didn’t have tears and toothpaste dribbled down the front, washed his face again, and after three tries managed to clip back his hair in a half-up style that was still too messy because normally Janus would do it for him. 

And then he sat on the bed, wringing the handkerchief Janus had given him back and forth in his hands, staring at the door. 

He ought to go out there and face the music, as it were. He knew that. 

But he’d just lost Patton. He didn’t want to lose Janus, too. And if he just stayed here, stayed in his room and pretended he wasn’t hiding from the consequences of his actions, then maybe this moment of time would freeze and he could just stay here forever and things wouldn’t get better but at least they wouldn’t get worse, either. 

Roman probably didn’t deserve for things not to get worse. 

He straightened his shoulders as much as he could, took a deep, shuddering breath, and walked to the door, holding the handkerchief tight. Maybe it was about to become a memento of the last time Janus was nice to him. He hoped they’d let him keep it. 

He took another moment with his hand on the doorknob to steady himself, taking one deep breath, then another, then a third. When he still didn’t feel any more steadied, he grimaced and pushed the door open before he could change his mind, emerging into the sitting room. 

Janus was pacing in circles around the room, long legs eating up the distance at a rapid pace, hands gesturing wildly as they muttered to themself, and all their hesitancy and horror from before was gone. Now they only looked furious. Remus was at the breakfast table, munching on a stack of pancakes, worried eyes tracking Janus. Logan was seated on the sofa, back ramrod-straight, shoulders taut, expression serious, not speaking a word. The whole room felt oddly still and silent, Janus’s angry movement the only energy in the space. 

Janus froze at the noise of the door opening for just a beat, then turned on their heel to glare at Roman, crossing their arms. 

He shrank back under their gaze, half of a mind to step back into his room, lock the door, and never come out. Logan was looking back and forth between Roman and Janus, his expression hard to read beyond definitely not good; Remus’s eyes were fixed on his twin. Roman spared him the briefest glance before meeting Janus’s eyes once again. At least Remus didn’t seem mad—although he certainly wasn’t anywhere near happy. 

“So,” Janus said coldly. “You decided to grace us with your presence. How kind.” 

Roman winced. “Janus—” He faltered, having no idea what on earth he could say. I’m sorry didn’t really cover it, but every other option was worse. 

The slight flare of Janus’s nostrils was enough to stop Roman in his tracks, anyway. “What?” they snapped. 

Roman looked at his feet. 

“No, really, what? I’m quite curious. What earthly thought process could possibly have gone through your head leading up to this? Do share your enlightened decision-making prowess with the rest of us,” Janus went on, stalking closer to Roman in a way that made him feel very much like he was about to be eaten alive. 

Roman wound the handkerchief around and around his fingers. “I—I don’t—I’m sorry.” 

“Clearly. But I’m afraid I kind of don’t care about that just now,” Janus informed him, grabbing his chin and making him face them. “Explain.” 

Roman’s tensed shoulders had climbed until they were practically around his ears. But he wouldn’t refuse Janus. Not after that moment of shocked hurt earlier. “I—I didn’t tell him,” he began. 

“Mmhm.” Janus’s tone was as chilly as snow down Roman’s back. They let go of his chin and crossed their arms again, staring him down. “You made that pretty clear.”

“No, I—I didn’t tell him anything.” Roman faltered at the way Janus’s lips tightened, but he forged onward. Too late to turn back now. “I didn’t—I didn’t even tell him about the—the deadline. That I could have gotten out at all.” 

“Oh my god.” Janus threw their hands in the air. “I didn’t think it could get worse.” 

“I thought it wouldn’t be fair to him!” Roman couldn’t help but defend, knowing he sounded hysterical and teary. “I didn’t want to pressure him, I was trying to be mindful of my power, I—”

“You make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him!” Janus snapped, shoving a finger in Roman’s face. “You make him happier than any actual boyfriend he’s ever had before! He’s made it pretty fucking clear he was interested in you for months now, so quit giving me your ‘I wasn’t sure’ bull.” Their voice rose as they went on until they were all but screaming in Roman’s face. “I thought you at least had the fucking sense to act in your own goddamn self-interest when it came down to the line! But evidently I overestimated your brainpower!”

“But I—”

“No. Shut up.” Janus’s hands were shaking, their voice gone low and furious. “Patton is one of the two most important people in my life, Roman. Did you stop to think for a fucking second about respecting Patton’s autonomy in the situation? Think about the way that deliberately withholding critically relevant information would impact his ability to make his own decisions?” 

Roman’s gut twisted. He had not thought of this angle. He looked at the floor again and didn’t speak. 

“Did you ever realize that this isn’t just about you?” Janus went on. “Because it’s not just about you, Roman! Your actions have consequences! You can’t just decide to play the martyr because you feel like it, or you think it’s the righteous thing to do, or whatever the hell was going through your head. You can’t do that to Patton! It doesn’t make you the hero if Patton gets hurt! Do you understand that?” They looked down at the handkerchief he was still twisting in his hands and snatched it from him. “Do you understand how monumentally stupid you’ve been, Your Highness?”  

The tears that had been pooling in Roman’s eyes spilled over. “Yes,” he choked out. “I get it.” 

“Do you? Do you really?” Janus demanded, hands on their hips. 

“I know!” Roman sobbed. “I get it, Janus! It’s my fault and I was stupid and now you hate me and Patton will too and it’s my fault! I know! I know I just ruined my whole life and his too! You don’t need to explain to me why I’m stupid! Okay?” He gulped in air, the sensation in his lungs all wrong, just like everything else about this moment. “I know,” he repeated, voice cracking. 

Janus was silent for a moment, their expression hard. “I don’t hate you,” they said tersely. “I’m monumentally angry with you, but I don’t hate you. Clear?” 

Roman didn’t know how to formulate a response to that. “You d—don’t?” he hiccuped after a pause. 

Janus made a face, shoved the handkerchief back at him, and crossed their arms. “You’re my friend,” they said as he wiped his tears away again, though their tone didn’t soften from its stony prickle at all. “I’m not throwing that away overnight. You know, unlike how you decided to throw Pat—”  

Logan cleared his throat, and Janus cut themself off almost instantly, their eyes flying to him. 

“I get the feeling you might regret whatever you’re about to say,” Logan commented mildly. 

Janus blinked. “I—you’re right. Thank you.” They looked back to Roman. “I... apologize for that last bit. It was... uncalled for.” 

Roman wasn’t convinced that anything they could say to him, no matter how much it hurt, would be uncalled for just at this moment, but he was too choked up to form words. He waved his hand vaguely. 

Janus was silent for a moment. “I… listen.” The furious edge was gone from their voice, and their breathing had steadied, but Roman thought this new, deadly serious tone might be worse; it was so much more calculated and intentional than the angry shouting of a moment ago. “I care about you, Roman. But if you break my brother’s heart, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive that.” Janus turned away from him, arms wrapped tightly around themself, and Roman realized very suddenly that their shoulders were trembling.  

“Janus—” he began, reaching out instinctively but catching himself before he could lay his hand on their arm. 

Janus shook their head, still not looking at him. “I don’t want to hear it.” Their voice shook ever so slightly. 

Logan fidgeted in his seat, staring at Janus with a surprisingly distressed expression, his eyebrows knitted together, but he didn’t say anything. Remus was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, half-eaten pancakes forgotten in front of him. 

“What—” Roman began. He hesitated, not sure if it was the right thing to say, but he felt he had to say something. “What should I have done differently?” 

Janus spun back to face him again, face flushed and eyes filled with barely-held-back tears. “Anything!” they snapped, fury coloring their voice once again. “What is so hard to comprehend about that? Would even an ounce of communication with literally anyone in this situation have killed you?” 

Logan got to his feet. “Janus. Roman. I do not intend to invalidate either of your feelings in this moment, but I fail to see how this is at all healthy for either of you at this point.” He sighed. “Would it help to—” 

“Shut up,” Janus and Roman snapped in unison. 

Logan recoiled, looking shocked, for just a second; then his brows drew even closer together than they had already been, and his lips pressed together in a frown. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin just slightly, looking away from them. 

Janus hesitated, something like regret flashing across their face almost too quickly for Roman to read it. “I—Lo—”

“What’s going on?” Thomas’s voice said. 

Roman jumped, but he seemed to be the only one surprised by the new arrival. Looking over, he saw both his parents by the door, taking in the scene. 

“Your son is an idiot, that’s all,” Janus responded to Thomas in a cold tone, fists clenching at their sides. 

“Janus, you are speaking to the kings!” Logan interrupted frantically, his former anger melting away into alarm. 

“I’m well aware,” Janus snapped. “If they wanted me speaking my mind to always be a nice thing, they should have thought of that before they raised their child to be so self-centered and hell-bent on self-sacrifice!”

Nico leaned over and whispered in Thomas’s ear; he received a nod and stepped out of the room. Thomas, meanwhile, clasped his hands in front of himself, raised his eyebrows, and gave Janus and Roman his full attention.  

Janus hadn’t stopped ranting. “He can’t get it through his thick skull that being happy is good or that his actions have consequences and that he’s not the only one affected by them! And I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to fix it this time!” 

“You don’t have to—” Roman began.

Janus glared at him. “Yes, I fucking do! And not even just for you! For Patton! Do I have any idea how to fix it? No! I was totally unprepared for this eventuality! I thought you had this handled! I didn’t think you’d make it worse, you nitwit!”  

Roman winced and fell silent once more. 

“Sorry,” Thomas said, “who’s… Patton?” 

Janus froze and pinned Roman with an icy look. “They don’t know about him?”  

Roman looked away. 

“What the hell, Roman?” Janus demanded. 

“I was shy about him!” Roman defended. “I was going to tell them eventually!” 

“Is he some kind of game to you? Some sort of toy to string along for fun? Not even important enough to tell your own parents he exists?” With each accusatory question, Janus took another step towards him, backing him towards the wall. 

“No!” Roman shook his head frantically. “No no no no no—I just—I mean, have you told your dads about your boyfriend? It’s embarrassing!” 

Janus flung their hands up in a bewildered, aggravated motion. “Yes, I have! Obviously! Ages ago! We’ve been together for years, I bring him home all the time!”

Roman blinked. “Wh— years?”  

“Yes, I—” Janus inhaled. “You know what, he is none of your business! We are talking about you and Patton right now, and every time I think I have a handle on how badly you’ve messed this up, it gets worse.”  

“Alright,” Thomas interrupted. “I still don’t understand what’s happening, but let’s all take a deep breath and sit down and sort out whatever’s upset you all so. Come on. Everybody find a chair. Let’s go.” 

Janus, who was trembling again with what looked like barely-held-back angry tears, took the armchair nearest Logan, and Thomas took one across from them. Roman made his way to the sofa; Remus hopped up from the table and plastered himself to Roman’s side, protectively wrapping his arms around him. 

Roman tensed for a moment; he wanted a hug, very badly, but part of his brain insisted he ought not accept comfort when he’d upset Janus so much. That part, however, was quickly overpowered by the fact that Remus was as clingy as an octopus, and Roman was clearly getting the hug whether he wanted it or not. Roman relaxed, which wound up prompting a fresh burst of tears now that he wasn’t focused on trying to hold them back. 

Remus only held Roman tighter, to the point where it was nearly uncomfortable, resting his chin on top of Roman’s head; he didn’t even make a teasing comment about “waterworks.” 

As Roman got his tears under control once again, he realized that Remus hadn’t said anything for the entire morning so far. Quiet Remus was practically unheard of, and never a good sign. Roman frowned. 

“Are you okay?” he whispered. 

“Look who’s talking.” Remus thumbed at Roman’s cheek, still wet with tears—not quite wiping them away, but still a comforting gesture. “I dunno. I’ll—” He hesitated. “I’ll tell you later.” He let go of Roman, but left his hand on Roman’s shoulder, a grounding weight only a little bit sticky with the syrup he’d poured on his pancakes. 

Roman nodded and looked back up; Thomas was watching the twins closely, concern plain to read on his face. Logan was drawing back, as if he’d just been leaning forward a second ago. Janus was leaning forward, with their elbows on their knees; they were raising their hand to their face to brush away the tears that had spilled down their own cheeks. If Roman hadn’t known better, he’d almost have thought the two could have been holding hands a second ago. 

As Nico came back in—Roman couldn’t be sure what he’d been doing, but he suspected it had been some sort of arrangement to clear the family’s schedules for the next hour or two—Thomas beckoned him over to sit in the chair beside him. The two clasped hands, and Thomas leaned over and murmured something Roman couldn’t make out in Nico’s ear. Nico nodded. 

“Okay.” Thomas turned back to the rest of the group and took a deep breath. “What’s going on?” 

Janus, Remus, and Roman all began talking at once. 

“I didn’t mean to—”

“—thinks it’s funny to go around playing with—”

“—both need to fucking cool their tits—”

“—I was only trying to help—”

“—can’t believe he would be so—”

“—they keep yelling and yelling and it’s not even funny—”  

“—and I’m so so sorry—”

“Whoa!” interrupted Thomas. “Okay. Everyone take a breath.” He turned to Nico. “Alright. How do we want to do this?” 

“Hm.” Nico considered this for a moment. “Logan?”

“Your Majesty?” Logan inclined his head. 

“Could I get your perspective to accompany all this?” 

Remus let out a small snicker, which he quickly stifled. 

“Roman, Janus, we’re going to hear each of you out,” Nico clarified. “I just want a quick rundown of what’s happening first, and it seems like you’re both feeling... a little distressed for that right now.” 

Janus gave a small, terse nod, not meeting anyone’s eyes. 

Logan took a deep breath, clearly weighing his choice of words. “Well. I am not directly privy to all the details, of course, and that should be kept in mind. But my understanding is, roughly, as follows. Roman has—actually, hold on. Roman, may I speak freely on this matter?” 

Roman blinked. “I—yeah.” There was no point now in trying to wait until introducing Patton to his fathers could be a joyful, celebratory moment. 

Logan nodded once. “Thank you.” He turned back to the kings. “To my understanding, Roman has been, to some extent, romancing Janus’s brother Patton, who works in the palace gardens, for some five months now.” 

“But—” Roman began. Logan was oversimplifying!  

“Roman,” Nico said gently, holding up a hand, still looking at Logan. “Wait your turn, son.”  

Roman bit his lip and fell silent. 

Logan nodded and continued. “Each of them has demonstrated extreme reluctance to openly discuss their feelings with one another for reasons unknown to me, to the point where… well. Where yesterday came and went without either of them doing anything to cement their relationship and remove Roman from the competition. Janus seems quite upset by this, I believe mostly out of concern for Patton’s feelings—” 

“He can’t just—” Janus burst out. 

Nico opened his mouth, but Logan beat him to it. “Janus,” Logan said gently, much more gently than Roman usually heard him speak to them. “I am in no way attempting to belittle you, or your brother, or your relationship to him, or the consequences Roman’s actions will bring, or the way you or Patton feel about this. I merely intend to give the kings a brief rundown of the concrete events that have taken place so they are better equipped to understand. Alright?” 

Janus held Logan’s gaze, something hard in their expression trembling and melting away, leaving them with a startlingly vulnerable look in their eyes. “Alright,” they whispered, closing their eyes. 

Logan nodded and turned back to the kings. “Janus had been under the impression that Roman and Patton intended to make their relationship official yesterday, but that did not actually occur, I believe partly because Patton was unaware that leaving the competition was an option for Roman at all. This morning, after we learned what took place, we sent for Your Majesties. While we waited, Roman and Janus proceeded to participate in a screaming match, mostly in the form of Janus lashing out and berating Roman about his treatment of their brother, and Roman accepting it unquestioningly in what seemed to me to be a concerning form of emotional self-flagellation. This lasted until Your Majesties arrived.” He paused, clasping his hands, then nodded to himself. “I believe that is all.” 

“Wait, what?” Janus said, blinking. They stared at Roman. “You were what?”

Roman squirmed uncomfortably under the sudden attention. “You were right,” he mumbled. “I messed up. It made sense to let you say whatever.” 

“What—like, using me as a way to punish yourself?” Janus, for some reason, seemed distressed by this, their voice pitching high. 

Roman just shrugged. 

“Roman!” Janus snapped. 

Roman fidgeted with the handkerchief, not meeting their eyes. “What?” 

They spluttered for a moment. “You can’t do that!” 

He frowned. “Why not?” 

“I— what do you mean, why not? It’s shitty, that’s why not!” 

“But—” Roman began.

“Okay,” Thomas interrupted again. “Break time. Janus is right, that’s not healthy, Roman, but we can discuss that in detail a little later.” He looked at his husband. “I think we can spare a few hours, don’t you? This does seem like a family emergency.” 

Nico nodded. “I was thinking the very same myself. You and I are already free until at least noon, and I think we can potentially extend that by another hour or two if we need.” 

“Alright.” Thomas looked back to the younger four, his eyes settling on Janus. “Janus, it seems pretty clear that the hurts between you and Roman went both ways. I want to make sure we allow you to process however works best for you. Would you like to stick around while we all work through what just happened, or would you like to take the day off and deal with your emotions yourself for today?” 

“Can Patton have the day off too?” Janus asked immediately. 

“You said he works in the gardens? Of course he can,” Nico agreed. “I’m sure we have plenty of gardeners, that should be fine.” 

Janus didn’t hesitate. “I want to go home, then.” 

Nico nodded. “Go ahead. We can discuss what happened between you and Roman privately with you tomorrow and help you work out a solution, alright?” 

Janus was on their feet and moving before Nico even finished speaking. “Yes, fine, absolutely,” they tossed over their shoulder, heading for the door.  

“Janus,” Thomas called. “Make sure you’re taking the time to care for yourself, too.” 

“Mmhm, of course.” Janus didn’t sound particularly sincere. 

“Janus?” Roman worked up the courage to say. 

Janus froze in their tracks, not turning. “What?”   Their voice was much chillier than it had been speaking to his fathers.

“Can—can you tell him I’m really sorry?” Roman’s voice dwindled smaller. 

Janus sighed. Their shoulders slumped slightly. “...Maybe.” They walked out the door and shut it behind them. 

Logan stared after Janus, then glanced at Remus, then Roman, clearly struggling with something; he looked beseechingly at the kings. 

Nico smiled slightly. “Why don’t you take the day off, as well, Logan?” 

“Thank you, sire.” Logan practically bolted from the room. “Janus!”  

There was silence for a few seconds after Logan’s departure; Thomas and Nico seemed to be having a conversation with only their eyes. 

“Alright,” Thomas said, offering Nico his hand as both men moved to the couch by their sons, “let’s talk about it.” 

  ***

  Janus was halfway back to their and Logan’s rooms by the time Logan caught up with them. He wordlessly offered them his hand, and they clung to him as they walked the rest of the way back to the suite. 

The moment the door was closed behind them, Janus crumpled to their knees, too worked up to even properly cry; Logan sank down beside them and drew them close. 

They hid their face in his shoulder, clinging to him with all their strength. “I thought it was going to be fine!” they burst out after a minute. 

“I know.” Logan’s arms were firm around them. “I know, dear.” 

“Patton doesn’t even know,” they went on. “How am I supposed to break it to him?” 

“I would suggest that his favorite tea be involved,” Logan responded reasonably, “but I also get the feeling you meant that rhetorically.” 

Janus chuckled in spite of themself, taking a deep breath. They looked up, making sure they had Logan’s attention. “I’m sorry I told you to shut up earlier,” they said. “I know you hate that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

Logan hesitated. “Emotions were running high. I certainly understand doing something in the moment that I wouldn’t choose in a more rational mindset.” He glanced away. “I… I admit that it did… sting. But I know you didn’t intend it maliciously.” He looked back, meeting their eyes once again. “I forgive you, dearest.” 

“I love you,” Janus told him, only stumbling a little over the words. At a better time, the look of startlement on Logan’s face at them saying it first would be absolutely delectable; they stored that information away to process at a later date. 

“I love you too,” he responded, cupping their cheek in his hand. “What do you need before you go to pick up Patton?” 

“My wallet,” Janus said. 

Logan’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you have that on you?” 

“No, I left it in the dresser, I wanted to wear tight pants and putting things in my pockets ruins the look.” 

“Wh—Janus, we’re supposed to carry our IDs on ourselves at all times when we’re on duty!” 

“Nobody ever asks for my ID.” Janus waved at their scales. “They just recognize me and understand that I have a higher level of clearance than they could ever dream of.” 

“Dearest, that’s illegal, you can’t just—”

“Are you saying you don’t appreciate the way I look in these?” Janus challenged, smirking. Flirting and teasing, after all, was so much easier than confronting the emotions the last hour had stirred up. 

Logan paused, clearly torn. “I… did not say that. At all. And that’s actually irrelevant to my point.” 

Janus pursed their lips. “Darling, I need you to understand what’s more important: a silly little law that nobody cares about anyway, or me looking hot?” 

“I—what? Clearly the law that is designed to protect our safety and that of the royal family, Janus!” Logan made a bewildered gesture. 

“Interesting.” Janus raised a sly eyebrow. “So there are other laws you’d be willing to rank below my appearance in terms of importance?” 

“Dear,” Logan said helplessly. 

Janus relented. “I’m teasing. Don’t worry.” 

Logan nodded. “Alright. You need your wallet. Anything else? Keys? Hat? Cardigan?” 

“All of those, yes. And that should be everything.” Janus leaned their head on Logan’s shoulder, reluctant to leave his arms. 

He cradled them close. “Remember how a few days ago you told me I didn’t need to work so hard?” he asked. 

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and I remember exactly what you answered, too, so if you’re about to turn that on me, I want you to know that you’re being very hypocritical. Also that I’ll be incredibly insulted that you would ever imply I would work, let alone hard or on purpose.”  

Logan blinked several times. “You—we literally have a live-in job, what are you talking about?”

“Irrelevant.” Janus waved their hand. “Continue.” 

Logan was still hung up on his confusion. “You voluntarily spend a decent amount of your free time behind the counter in your fathers’ bakery! What do you mean, you don’t work?” 

“No, I—oh, nevermind. It’s about maintaining my reputation as a terribly high-maintenance spoiled little piece of eye candy, love, not about what I actually do. What did you want to say?” 

“I— what?” Logan said helplessly. “Who thinks that of you?” 

Janus sighed, trying not to laugh. “Nobody. I just like it as an idea. You were saying something about me working too hard, probably?” 

“Oh.” Logan nodded, clearly refocusing. “Yes, exactly. It isn’t your job to tend to every emotional need of the people you love, you know.” 

“Hmm, I don’t like the sound of that.” Janus wrinkled their nose. “What if instead I pour all my energy into manipulating every situation to protect them from even the slightest harm, and then have a total breakdown when something I can’t control happens?” They spoke lightheartedly, jokingly, sounding a little sarcastic, knowing that Logan would parse the barely-hidden vulnerability out of the sentence anyway. 

Logan put his hand on their arm, looking them in the eyes. “Roman and Patton are both adults. They can handle themselves. Even through rough patches. It’s not your responsibility to protect them from everything.” 

Janus whined a little, leaned forward, and pressed their face into Logan’s neck for comfort, breathing in the scent of him and feeling his warm skin against their cheek. “But I want to.” 

He stroked their hair. “I know. And, as you yourself just said, if you pour all of your energy into doing so to such a great extent, you then break down when you run into the inevitable failure.” 

Janus pouted. “Hey, you can’t use my own words against me, that’s illegal.” 

“Like not bringing your ID to work is illegal?” Logan said, and Janus didn’t need to see his face to know the way he was raising his eyebrow. 

“You’re terrible,” Janus told him, trying not to smile. 

“I love you, too,” Logan responded, shifting and offering them his hand as he got to his feet. “If you want to catch the next trolley into town, you’ll need to get going to pick up Patton soon.” 

Janus nodded and leaned in to press their cheek against his in something that wasn’t quite a kiss but carried the same energy. “You don’t mind staying behind?” they inquired. 

Logan hummed thoughtfully. “Well. I am loath to leave you in such a state of distress, so in that sense, yes, I mind very much. But this seems like an incredibly personal family matter, and I doubt I am close enough to Patton for my presence not to feel like an intrusion to him.” 

Janus wrinkled their nose, but didn’t say anything. Logan was probably correct, even if Patton would never say so aloud. 

“I will be fine,” Logan assured them. “I’ve been meaning to brew some more sleeping draughts for the palace stock, anyway, you know how long they have to sit before they’re fit for use.” He squeezed their hand and nudged them towards the bedroom. “Go on, dear. Gather your things.” 

Janus located their wallet and keys; then a black sunhat with a broad, round brim, because they burned easily; then a long, drapey black cardigan, because they always got cold on the trolley with its open windows. 

“I’ll see you later,” Logan told them by the door, holding both their hands in his own. “Good luck. I love you. Remember that it’s not your responsibility to fix everything.” 

Janus leaned down to kiss him goodbye. “I love you too,” they whispered. In a more normal voice, they added, “I’ll try and be back tonight.” 

Logan nodded, and they left him in the doorway, looking after them as they started towards the garden in search of Patton. 

It might not be Janus’s responsibility to fix everything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to try, anyway. All they had to do was figure out how.

taglist:

@the-sympathetic-villain

@crazydemigod666

@nightweirdo

@private-snippers

[lycanthrop-ee]

Logan's character page for EHAU!! Plus a little cameo from the twins...

Taglist:

@ab-artist

@dolphin-squirrel

[resident-fungi-fren]

I Don’t Want to Go to the Wedding

Summary: Janus is in love with Virgil, terribly, deeply in love. So is Virgil's fiancé, who is not Janus.

Ships: one-sided anxceit, intruxiety, hinted at roceit

Warnings: marriage, unrequited love, heartbreak

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

“Janus, why aren’t you dressed?”

Virgil lifted his foot to kick Janus in the side, (gently) his voice light.

“We’re going to be late for the wedding.”

“I’m not going,” Janus mumbled into the blanket, curled up on his air mattress, definitley not moping.

“Like hell you’re not, you’re my best man, you can’t just skip it!”

Janus heaved a sigh. He really didn’t want to go. He couldn’t. How was he supposed to watch his best friend, whom he’d loved for years, marry someone else?

For a brief moment he entertained the thought of confessing his love then and there, and sweeping Virgil off his feet. But no, Virgil loved Remus, and Remus loved him back. They had a real chance at being happy, and Janus wouldn’t take that away from Virgil.

“Please Janjan, I can’t get married without you there. You’re the only family I got. I need you by my side.” Virgil’s voice was soft and pleading, a hint of desperation in his tone.

Shit. How was he supposed to say no to that?

Apparently he couldn’t, because here he was an hour later, watching Virgil walk down the aisle.

He really looked magnificent, in his dark violet tux. The embroidery, which Virgil had done himself and fretted over for weeks, was elegant, the pattern subtle and refined.

Janus wanted to close his eyes and pretend for just a moment that Virgil was walking him, that this was their big day, the start of their happily-ever-after. But no, he couldn’t let himself believe that, it would only hurt them both.

The ceremony was beautiful, but Janus could feel his heart breaking in two.

During the reception, Janus opted to put on his hat and avoid any and all interaction, nursing a glass of wine in the corner.

Atleast, that was his plan until a bright red blur appeared in the corner of his blind eye.

“Hello, I’m Roman, Remus’s more attractive brother. You’re the other best man, right?”

“No, I’m not, could you please take a few steps to your left?”

The blob obliged, and now Janus could see him. It was indeed Roman, Janus remembered him standing next to Remus. His suit was an obnoxious bright red, with a matching tie.

“What a wonderful suit, it really catches the eye.” Roman blushed, apparently having missed the sarcasm.

“Why thank you! Now, are you going to tell me your name?”

“No.”

Janus couldn’t help but burst into laughter at Roman’s pout.

They speant the rest of the reception flirting chatting, and before Janus knew it, Virgil was coming over to say goodbye.

“I’ll see you in a week, promise?”

“I promise. Goodbye, Virgil.” As he watched Virgil walk away, he felt lighter. He had to let go of Virgil, and yeah, it hurt like hell, but he would live.

And as he turned back towards Roman, with his spark and passion and energy for life, he though, just maybe, that he could even love again.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Roman: I got my binder.

Remus: Try it on!

Roman, after putting it on: *crying*

Remus: Ro, I really hope that’s a good cry or I’m fighting someone.

Roman: It’s a good cry. Hug, please?

Remus: Of course.