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stormxpadme · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023 No. 31 - Emptiness/Setbacks/“Take it easy.”

Scogan Bingo challenge | SBC_005 FREE Scogan Bingo challenge | Halloween/Spooky-themed adoptables 9 - Back From The Dead

When Hank called Logan and told him to get his ass to Stark Tower this instant, Logan almost told the blue furball to go fuck himself.

The dust of the Phoenix and Cure crises was only just starting to settle. They'd literally buried their dead – or rather, honored them, as two of these three graves were notoriously empty – just yesterday. Politicians all over the world were circle-jerking to who could come up with the most absurd new restrictions for mutants, punishing everyone for a few insane motherfuckers going off the rails once more, while the Cure kept on tearing their race apart from the inside.

And in all that mess, Ororo and Logan were suddenly entirely alone, supposed to lead a whole damn mutant school with what little they'd managed to read up in Charles' last message to them and his files by now, and with what Ororo had caught in the cause of the years of how to organize this place. When they weren’t busy trying to explain to completely distraught children what the fuck had happened without even understanding it themselves yet, or listening to minors cry themselves to sleep, they took the occasional minute in their respective apartments for a breakdown of their own, not even having begun to process this whole clusterfuck personally. Seriously. The very last thing Logan had any interest in right now was condescending bullshit from that douchebag billionaire Stark and that walking flag parody of a team leader who had both been happy to sit out this whole crisis on their asses although they usually never got tired of interfering with the X-Men's dealings. But in the end, Logan got on his bike and drove downtown anyway, not least because getting out of this house full of depression for an hour might actually save his sanity. And also because no matter how far he was from accepting that still? He'd probably just been promoted to full-time team leader, after already having been Scott's second-in-command since Alkali Lake. At least temporarily. In spite of Charles, of Jean herself, telling it to his face, part of Logan still refused to accept that Scott was gone. It couldn’t be. Not when the two of them had only just begun admitting how they felt about each other before Jean's return, approaching at snail's pace, not even daring to put a label on things yet … But they'd been ready to see where this surprising new path would take them, together, before Jean's return had ripped it all to pieces, literally. Just considering that to be true had Logan's hands clench so hard on the handlebars of his – Scott's old – bike that they deformed under his mutation-enhanced strength and he almost skidded off the damn road thanks to the activated hyperspeed. Not good. Maybe Logan only held on to denial in spite of literally just having buried a non-existent corpse, in spite of all eulogies and Ororo's tear-stained looks from her sunken dark eyes whenever they met his, because he had no idea what would happen if he finally moved on to the stage of acceptance. If the animal inside tore loose from its chains in the grief inevitably waiting at the end of that line, Logan's mind blanking out as rage and hate took over, with not even anyone left to vent it on … Logan had a funny idea, then Ororo would be left on her own as Principal for good, at least until Hank would deign to move his arrogant ass back to Mutant High. As long as Logan could possibly prevent such an unhappy outcome, he had to try, somehow. No matter how loud that exasperated voice in the back of his head was, calling him delusional. He'd done stupider things. "Care to tell me what the fuck is so important that you couldn’t tell me on the phone?" he snapped after parking his bike in Stark's impressive garage full of fancy sports cars and admittedly quite pretty bikes, and the elevator had automatically brought him only one floor up to the Tower's cellar. The sickbay, the laboratories, where Hank had spent the last few days for some reason, instead of being in Washington to try and help calm the general mood down as he'd actually said he would when leaving.

"You'll have to see for yourself. You wouldn’t believe me." Hank nodded him along a long sterile hallway, paws clenching and unclenching restlessly in a kind of agitation Logan had rarely seen in this guy before.

"You know that's what they tell the dumb jocks and chicks in the movies before leading them to the slaughterhouse," Logan grumbled, only even more annoyed instead of curious. If this was about some unnecessary new invention of Stark's again, supposed to make the world for mutants easier and in the end probably turning out to be just as much a tool of war and division as that damn Cure, Logan would break some expensive machine on his way out on pure accident.

Or maybe it was a trap; not unlikely either. Stark and Rogers notoriously weren’t huge fans of mutant-kind; probably even less now that whole Phoenix catastrophe.

But since thanks to his healing factor, Logan usually didn’t have a lot to fear from any threat, he finally shrugged and played along, rummaging in his jacket for a cigar, just to annoy his on-and-off-teammate a little about ash and smoke in sterile environments. Logan entirely forgot to light it though when he entered the examination room he was being shown to and was suddenly standing before a huge glass tank filled with transparent fluid in which a human body was floating.

Scott.

He only vaguely noticed from the brief pain in one wrist and the dull thud of metal that his legs had given out under him. The voices of Hank, of Stark and Rogers in the background, of some blonde in a revealing white corset Logan didn’t know, turned to incomprehensible noise, nothing but his rapid breathing, his racing heartbeat echoing in his mind as he stared at the body of his dead partner.

Scott. And he was not dead.

Only when the first shock subsided and Logan's eyes weren’t that clouded by terror anymore, when he remembered how to blink, his mind caught on to the fact that no, contrary to his first panic, he hadn’t been called here because Scott's corpse had finally been found, on display here for sick entertainment for some reason. Logan's instincts, once more, hadn’t been off at all.

The ghostly pale, almost white body, intubated and hooked to IVs and drains through holes in the tank's ceiling, wasn't moving on its own, lazily drifting in whatever fluid that was, but it was breathing. Listening closer, drowning out the voices in the room consciously now, Logan could even make out a very slow, faint heartbeat.

There were some details he couldn’t wrap his head around right away, and he should probably be asking about those to suspend the last of his disbelief … But for a moment, all he could do was gaze at the man he thought he'd never see again with his eyes burning, his body shaking, and send a silent thanks to whoever out there might be responsible for fate for this most unexpected surprise. When a strong paw grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him rudely, Logan almost ran his claws through Hank's guts on pure instinct, but after another few deep breaths, he could somehow get himself together and push himself back to his feet. It took a lot of self-composure not to immediately hurry over to that tank, up the metal stairs leading to the top, just to try and touch the man inside, just to go sure. First, he needed details. "You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on, McCoy?"

"We've been trying for five minutes," Rogers from his silent corner answered dryly, arms crossed in front of his ridiculously broad chest. With his usual wing mask pulled back from his face, the Avengers' leader looked remarkably pale himself, his square jaw set tight as he regarded that tank with not half as much joy as Logan, which immediately provoked the wish in Logan to get over there and shove boy scout out of the room. That Scott and Steve had never been exactly friends was no secret in the world of the enhanced, and Scott wasn’t in any position to fight a possible attack right now.

Well, that was what Logan was here for. "Not sure I need to hear anything from you, flag boy. Hank?"

"Much as it pains me to say, you should show our hosts a bit of politeness for once," Hank answered with an askew smile. "It was them, and our friend Emma Frost over there, who received the request to attempt this experiment. It was part of Charles' will, drafted right before his death. He knew there was a very real chance he wouldn’t survive when Erik and he set out to stop Phoenix. The letter he wrote for Ororo and you wasn’t the only one. He knew Stark is the only person not stopped by legal or moral boundaries with the technical means to achieve what Charles had in mind, and Rogers as team leader had to sign the whole deal off. Grudgingly, I might add. Steve doesn’t have a high opinion on illegal laboratory experiments from personal experience. But in the end, we all decided together that Phoenix was an extraordinary force no one could have seen coming or had a chance to fight, and that people Jean unwillingly has on her conscience should get a second chance if possible."

"Is there any way I can make you get to the point before sunrise, King Kong?" Logan wearily rubbed his eyes, trying his best not to let all those formalities and details get to him that he couldn't be caring about any less right now. Sure, that something was shady about this whole thing had been clear the moment Stark's security had patted him down for cameras outside. And if what Hank was implying was true – and given what Charles had read in Jean's mind about how Scott had died, Logan had to assume, it was –, they better made sure that the how about this whole deal would indeed stay within these walls. Or Scott would end up locked away as a lab rat in some S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. But as far as Logan was concerned, none of that mattered right fucking now. "You telling me I'm looking at a human clone?"

"The technique's been sound for more than a decade," Stark barged in for the first time, a proud grin plain to see twitching under his stupid goatee. "No one's allowed to use it is all. Those who don't give a shit about that are usually working for illegal organ farms or fertility facilities, or doing human experiments, since breeding a fully grown body within weeks in an egg is useless for anything else when you don't have the mind and soul to go with it. That's what we have her for." A fond glance toward the one Hank had called Emma, full of the affection and interest going with a couple of hormones too many, interrupted Stark's usual litany of self-praise.

"I run a school similar to Charles'." The woman brushed back the hood of a white cape she'd drawn deep into her face, apparently sensing Logan's usual apprehension towards strangers, and regarded him with a not-unfriendly but impatient-feeling look before turning back to the tank. "Charles' and my power sets are also similar. We've been working together for decades. I did many things wrong in my youth which is why I'm keeping out of most crises and huge battle these days, to not get tempted again. But when Charles really needed me, he could always count on me, he knew that. When I received his letter, I rushed to the place he described for his own rebirth immediately, but there's no sign of him, at least so far. At this point, there's no telling if we can bring him back. But Tony's been saving the DNA of many other enhanced in his databank for these kinds of cases for a long time. So once Steve approved, he and I turned to a next case we were pretty sure we could succeed with. And for a while, things went well, as you can see." Somehow, Logan didn’t like that limitation in the woman's last sentence, especially with how dejectedly, almost in resignation she raised her hand to the crystal clear glass of the tank, her eyes closing for a moment as she seemed to reach out with her mind to the person inside, only to shudder back both physically and mentally immediately.

Sensing Logan's exploding impatience, Hank grabbed him by the arm before he could ask again, in a far ruder manner this time, and led him away a few steps while Emma visibly tried to recollect herself. "Bringing a mind back postmortem is not a cake run. Usually, when you try, these souls have already left off to … wherever you believe people go when it's time. That's not for us to know at this time. What we do know is that there is a kind of mental limbo between death and that other sphere of existence that many souls rest in, especially when they were ripped from life early. If a patient's soul is there and for how long, no one can tell before a telepath tries to find them. The good news is, Emma found Scott. He's definitely still somewhere around. Emma thinks, Jean had a hand in that. Or well, the part of her that was still her. Jean knew about Charles' emergency plans for such situations and probably wanted to make sure, Scott at least had a chance to come back."

"Still waiting for the but, King Kong." Logan had to physically stop himself from scratching the massive metal lining the walls, or slap one of the people in here over the back of their heads so that someone would finally talk.

"She can't pull him out." Hank's sunken eyes withdrew even further behind their membranes as he turned to the tank, burying his hands deeply in the pockets of his lab coat. "His soul is resisting. Emma keeps on running into setbacks, every time she thinks she has a grasp on him. He slips away, or it's just an illusion, and then he shuts her right back out. She can't clearly communicate with him, his mind is in disarrange. After what happened, not much of a surprise. Emma can't tell if he's just confused and scared which would be an entirely normal reaction or if he doesn’t want to be brought back. And if the latter is the case, Logan … Then we have no right to force him. Not to mention that we probably can't, anyway, even if Rogers was willing to ignore the condition he's made for the procedure to be done. We need to go sure, and soon. You can only keep a fully bred clone without a mind on life support for so long."

"Then stop wasting time." Finally understanding his role in this whole drama, Logan shuddered, his eyes meeting Emma's sharp blue ones as he tried to prepare in vain for the unloved upcoming intrusion of a telepath. Nothing he would usually agree to voluntarily, especially not after Phoenix … But even if this whole thing would go wrong, even if it should indeed turn out that Scott no longer wanted to face a world going down the drain, in which case even Logan would have to accept that … At least he might get the chance to talk to the man he'd come to love for a last time.

Tony, having listened to their conversation sneakily of course, showed a relieved grin, the guy surely happy that such a dubious and doubtlessly costly project maybe wasn’t doomed to fail after all. "I'll have everything set up."

Logan just nodded vaguely, not half as enthusiastic about what was to come. With his arms wrapped around his own body as he suddenly felt freezing cold from the residing shock, he strode back to the tank, swallowing thickly as he beheld the shape inside, this time with the necessary knowledge and rationality. Which didn’t make the humiliating sight of a naked, helpless shape openly on display for everyone entering to see, easier to bear. Not to mention there were still things that seemed simply off about this reproduced body that Logan couldn’t put on the slightly blurred view of the containment fluid, much as he tried. "He looks different."

"He looks remade," Hank corrected him, apparently knowing exactly what Logan's sharp sense of vision was aimed at. "You do realize Scott's team hadn’t only formed right before you came to join them at Liberty Island, right?"

"Meaning?" Logan's impatience with guessing games was at an all-time low.

Hank pinched the bridge of his flat nose with an exasperated sigh. "For two people so madly head over heels for each other, you two made remarkably little effort, looking into each other's files and past. Scott's had hip replacement on both sides before he was even 20, Logan. Either Jean or I relocated his jaw more often than we cared to count. Hardly any of his teeth were his own on the day he died. He's had two ribs missing. 15 percent of his skin was Shi’ar tissue replacement for third-degree burns. Need me to go on? If you look at him and see a changed physique, it's because you haven’t met him before he was orphaned and Charles turned him into a child soldier. And that’s before we take into account, he probably will no longer need his glasses now. Though I would prefer putting them on for safety reasons anyway if we try this whole thing until we know for sure."

Logan had no words left to say for a moment, not even to repeat that they were of course going through with this. That there was no way he wouldn’t at least try to bring Scott back, seeing as he was the only one left close enough to the guy to have a chance at that … But was that really the truth? With Logan apparently never really having shed his shallow belief from the beginning, that before Liberty Island, Scott had never really been in a true war?

Even afterward, he'd never had the impression that his partner was prone to exaggerated physical damage in the field. Scott had always been remarkably fit for his slightly slim stature, fast, athletic, and an excellent hand-to-hand combatant. At least while Logan had been in the field together with the X-Men, he honestly couldn’t remember the guy ever coming home with as much as a sprained ankle.

"What happened that he suddenly stopped throwing himself off every cliff within reach?"

"You happened." Coming to stand behind him, Hank rested his hand heavily on Logan's shoulder, their eyes meeting in the faint reflection of the water, distracting Logan from the frightening sight of one bony, absurdly smooth thigh right before his eyes. "When you became part of us, you became his shield, Logan. And I promise you, none of us ever took that for granted. Even the ones of us not always residing in Westchester, only joining the team when shit hits the fan … We all have a great deal of love and respect for our young Captain here. Devastation among our kind upon learning of his fate runs deep. But that's not even why I called you. The one thing Rogers and I can agree on, the main reason why Steve said yes in spite of his inhibitions, is that Scott never really had a chance for a real life of his own after Charles took him in. He was raised with nothing but the fight ever since he was twelve. If there's anyone who deserves another shot, it's him. Do your best, please. That's all I'm asking you."

"Mean to, McCoy." Logan gave the guy a short, serene nod before pushing his hand away and straightening his posture, gritting his teeth. No use, drawing this out any longer than necessary. "So, where's that Frost woman?"

*****

"He'll try to push you out, to get rid of you." Emma was still preaching by the time she and Logan lay down on the narrow stretchers installed right next to the top of the tank in a haste, while Stark proceeded to open one of the small treatment holes in the solid metal disk covering the tank, for the last necessary step. "Once all of our minds are connected, you'll see things both from his and your and possibly even from my past that his subconsciousness creates to scare intruders off. It's possible he'll believe it isn’t you. You'll have to find a way to convince him. When you encounter other souls waiting in the limbo, ignore them. You don't want to communicate with the dead, Logan. Believe me, it's not worth it."

"And here I was thinking that was the plan," he commented dryly, raising his hand in tired defense when Emma was about to break in another sermon. "I got the idea, Snowflake. McCoy says, time's short, so let's get a move on it." Glad when the woman finally shut up, Logan allowed Hank, albeit reluctantly, to restrain his ankles and right wrist to the damn stretcher with adamantium cuffs of which Logan decided he didn’t even want to know where Stark had them from. None of them was hot on Logan's instincts taking over his mind at the wrong moment in such a mental exceptional situations, and his claws accidentally going through the wrong person within reach. His left arm was encased in a longer, looser shackle to his left, fastened to the tank's lid … And then there was suddenly the alarmingly cool but hauntingly familiar sensation of a well-known hand in his. In a very true sense of the word, it was like touching an empty hull, entirely unmoving, filled by only the faintest rush of blood beneath the surface … But given that Logan had been certain not too long ago he wouldn’t ever feel that touch anymore, he had a new lump in his throat anyway. He refused to turn his head toward that hole in the tank lid because the sight of that freshly crafted body still creeped him out, focusing on Emma instead whose small, thin shape had relaxed deeply into the stretcher's hard surface, her breathing going deep and evenly as she fell into a kind of deep meditation more by the second.

Just when Logan was about to open his mouth to ask, the woman suddenly grabbed his shackled hand without a warning, and Logan's world drowned in darkness.

******

He woke up in the Mutant High. For a moment, Logan was almost tempted to believe, this whole shit had been an especially detailed dream, even worse than his usual nightmares as it had felt so damn real, including getting someone back he'd thought lost … That he might actually be able to do that if he didn’t fuck up again, he only remembered when he sluggishly sat up from where he was curled in a ball in the corner of the living room, and the disorientated greyness of sleep and dampened sleepy condition of his senses didn’t go away. Not a dream. An illusion. His legs felt wobbly when he stood up, as if the floor beneath him was shaking, and after a first tentative step, he realized it was, the wooden boards not only creaking but dented, like mud, with every cautious step. When Logan looked down, he saw that he was barefoot suddenly, and leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the expensive beige carpet though he couldn’t make out any injury on his body. Not that he was having one right now as he had to remind himself repeatedly. Just as little real as the creepily authentic-feeling environment of a building he knew to the last corner and crevice, looking, sounding even smelling the same … except that it was yawningly empty. Remembering Emma's words and suspecting, he wouldn’t be seeing a welcoming committee anytime soon, Logan turned to the door to the garage after a moment of hesitation.

This was where Scott had fled to when he'd needed an hour for himself. To tinker with one of his rides sponsored by Charles over the course of the years, to free his head with something for his hands to do, to make something broken work again, as he had once told Logan. Every now and then that had helped, forgetting how helpless they all were, in spite of all their powers and efforts, against the dangers that mutant world was facing every day and the ongoing bigotry of far too many normal people.

But when Logan opened said door, it wasn’t to dozens of expensive rides. Instead, he was standing in the middle of a battlefield, gunshots going off all around him, the air thick with smoke, blood, and powder, causing his instincts to spring to life instantly. He threw himself behind the cover of the next best huge rock before he'd even really taken in the situation, the flag and uniforms of a hostile country long wiped off the maps, the corpses of a unit he'd once been part of laying all around him, guts out, explosions in the distance decimating the rest of the men to zero.

Except one.

When Logan retched and turned away from a scene he'd never seen in such detail in his dreams, reminding himself arduously that none of this was real, none of this could hurt him, he realized he wasn’t alone in his hiding spot.

Kneeling before him on the blood-soaked ground was one of his arch enemies although Logan needed to look twice to recognize that much sharper-looking face without hip-length, unkempt hair and filthy fur clothes. Creed's eyes were the same though, filled with perverted lust for killing, torture, and human flesh, his uniform red all over from blood that wasn’t his, his claws deeply in the neck of the guy he'd buried himself in, lost in his perverted urges for fast, sadistic satisfaction. His canines, too, were dripping with blood as he looked up to grin broadly at Logan, winking at him playfully without ever stopping what he was doing. "Gonna join the fun or what, Jimmy? Offensive's a bust anyway. Time to have some fun."

That voice, never exactly pleasant for the ears even in real life, was screeching like nails on a chalkboard, reminding Logan more effectively than any warning earlier that all he encountered in here was part of some mind in shambles, and it probably didn’t matter much if it was his own or the dying, trapped one he'd set out to find. These new splatter images just planted into his memory along with a whole bunch of new intrusive fears and self-loathing, he could think about when he'd finished the damn mission. Before he wordlessly left, he cut off Creed's ugly head with his claws anyway. Just on principle.

The violent act of defiance seemed to attract attention. After Logan's next blink, he was back in the living room, and this time, not alone. Only it wasn’t the lively chatter and laughter of dozens of enhanced fleas around him, brightening even his worst days in a way he'd never expected it, moving into this damn house back then. Perched on the ground, on the sofas, the windowsills, were unmoving, ghostly silhouettes, none of which he knew. Some looked almost like wax figures, their skin shining in the nearly entirely desaturated colors of the surroundings, some showed the often terrible wounds they had died from. None of them were breathing but all of them were alive in this weird, ghostly way of existence that this place of dread only offered.

When Logan made a hesitative step towards the stairs, to continue his search, a little girl with a high forehead, long brunette braids, and eyes somehow looking creepily familiar came to stand in his way, a doll with a broken face in her hand, her eyes empty like from a 70-year-old veteran. "You can't go up there! No one is allowed up there!"

Logan tried to ignore the creepy phenomenon like he'd been advised, going around it only to find the damn thing had moved like ghosts obviously did and was right in his path again, baring worryingly sharp teeth at him. "Yeah, well, I'm not like other people, kiddo." He made another useless attempt of sneaking by the girl, wincing at the sound of his own, also far too gravelly voice, sounding like coming from some scratchy LP played too slow. He was just as little real as everything else in here; he should better not forget that. Which hopefully meant, the same non-existent rules of nature applied to him. Taking a deep breath, bracing himself, Logan sprinted off, running right through the girl. He thought to taste copper in his mouth for a moment, all his insides clenching at the sensation of being penetrated thoroughly by something he couldn’t even identify, his brain flooded with a whole heap of memories that weren’t his own. He had to hold on to the stair railing, panting … When he opened his eyes again, he was certain, that damn thing must be gone now.

Instead, the girl was two steps above him now, grinning at him menacingly. Blood slowly began to drip from her lips, her ears, her eyes, soaking her stained shirt and jeans, but she was still smiling, obviously delighting in Logan's growing shock. Under his disbelieving sight, two long claws of bones on each side started to emerge from her hands as she crouched down in a position before him that he also knew damn well, about to pounce.

Suddenly, Logan had to fear he wasn’t half as immune to such an attack as he'd thought, not with how frozen he suddenly was in place …

"Laura! That's enough. He's a friendly."

In spite of the kid grudgingly disappearing immediately, Logan was still entirely unable to move a single muscle, his blood ice cold in his veins from one second to another. This voice, he would have recognized in a million after just one syllable. "Jean." This was the cruelest illusion of them all, so much worse than any blood and violence that had been haunting him all his life anyway. This was what he'd really dreaded, agreeing to this whole thing, knowing how likely he was, he'd stumble into memories of this kind in Scott's mind and at a loss how to deal with it, just days after Jean's death …

"Logan. Look at me." She was closer now, but still at a respectable distance to his claws, and Logan suddenly realized, her voice wasn’t distorted and screeching.

The scent of her rose perfume hit his nose and promptly brought tears to his eyes. This was the last thing he'd sensed of her as she had died in his arms. When he had killed her.

"You didn’t. You saved me." That pleading gentleness in her warm, deep voice finally enough to get through to him, make him turn around on shaking knees, Jean smiled at him gently, every bit the flawless beauty as which he'd been allowed to behold her just for a few minutes at a stretch upon her last return, whenever that out of control side of her hadn’t prevailed.

She'd still been somewhere in there, under all that madness and lust for destruction; he'd known that the whole time. If only he'd tried just a little harder …

"Logan, you got it all wrong." Even now, in a place that didn’t even really exist, she could still easily read his mind … And all of a sudden, as she stepped closer, every bit as graceful with her floating, fiery hair, her tight green dress, Logan was certain that this was definitely real. Jean nodded softly, a small smile on her beautiful lips. "I'm neither a memory nor an illusion. I'm much like them." She nodded at the ghostly shapes in the distance that were no longer a threat, obviously having a great deal of respect for her for some reason. "I'm not sure for long I'll be here. I still need a while to make peace with all that happened. But I only can do that because you had the strength to end it that day, Logan. I will never forget that." Close enough now for him to feel her warmth, encasing his non-body in this eerie place like a wool blanket, Jean reached up to softly wipe the tears from under his eyes, from his beard, a look of so much honest affection in her dark eyes that it broke his heart all over. "You need to stop blaming yourself. Nothing you could have done, or anyone else, could have changed the outcome of this. Charles didn’t know this but he was wrong about me. I wasn’t schizophrenic, Logan. I was possessed. By a cosmic force that none of you could recognize when you encountered it. One that fortunately died with me before it could really emerge. If it would have, it would have torn the whole universe to pieces. It's only thanks to you that didn’t happen." The grip of her hand on the back of his neck tightening, Jean shyly pulled him in, remembering only too well what had happened the last time they'd been this close.

But that had been another person, nothing of what Jean had really been like in life, and Logan's feelings for Scott weren’t in the way of how much he'd also cared about this woman back then either. The three of them had long stopped trading on such outdated moral boundaries. When their lips met, a bit of color seemed to seep back into the world around him, his thoughts finally no longer that clouded. Suddenly he was a hundred percent sure where he would find the person he was looking for, and he still had to hurry the fuck up. But one thing, he still needed to know. "Jeannie …" Grabbing her thin shoulders as she tried to turn away with a satisfied nod, having fulfilled what she'd come for, he fought the new lump in his throat in vain, trying to put all into words into seconds he'd never been able to tell her when she'd been alive. Maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe she knew, now that she seemed to know everything going on in the world of both the dead and the living. And then, even more so, he needed her to tell him something, or he would wonder all his life. "If this works, Jeannie … Can we bring you back, too? You're a telepath, you can find your way back alone …"

"Any body I would slip back into, Dark Phoenix would already be waiting in for me," Jean answered, choked, wiping her eyes in the same deeply rooted sadness and longing that probably kept her here still. "I can't risk all life for a single one, Logan. But you can be sure, I will keep a close eye on all of you, especially on you two." She pointed her chin up towards the first floor with a tender smile. "You'll take care of him for me, right? That's all I ask of you."

"Always, Red. I'll see you. One day." No longer bothering to fight his tears, Logan pulled her hand close for a last fleeting kiss on it before forcing himself to turn away from this hopefully last, the hardest meeting in this damn ghost house.

****

Scott was waiting for him in the same place, the same hunched position that Logan had found him so often in back then before his death. On what had once been Jean's and his bed, staring dully to the ground, haggard and pale, entirely absent from the world, long before he'd been forced to leave it. And just one time too many, Logan hadn’t tried hard enough to break this dangerous cycle of depression and grief back then, failing to stop his lover from basically throwing himself at Dark Phoenix' feet.

Not this time. "Hey, Slim." Never hesitating for a second, he knelt down on the floor in front Scott, closing his hands around that stubbly, hollowed face, lifting it until he could be sure Scott was at least vaguely aware of him. "Time to go home."

"Been trying." Scott's choked, far too quiet voice didn’t sound like he was seriously aware of a living presence in this shambled world of his, more like he was talking to himself. Or to an image of someone he'd love to have by his side right now, the latter sparking at least the smallest bit of hope in Logan's soul that he wasn’t being too late yet.

"They won't let me. I got nothing left with the living. So why won't they let me find the light, Logan? Every time I see it, it's gone before I can get there."

"That's because that's not where your home is. Not yet." Logan gently brushed the hair from Scott's face, to take a look at his glasses, not surprised that he failed to see any smallest flash of red behind them. "Let me take these off for you, bub."

A surprising, almost violent jerk of energy went through Scott's lethetic body, his most deeply rooted fears still just as real as in his first life. "Don't!"

"It's fine, Slim. Look at me. It's alright. Your blasts are gone. You can control them now." Logan gently held Scott's wrists tight, glad that his lover didn’t pull away, not just vanishing under his grip like ghosts usually did. This was just as real as his last talk a minute ago. And he'd be damned if he'd leave this conversation partner behind, too.

Something clenched painfully in his heart when Scott let out a cynical, deeply hurt laugh. "The last time someone I loved told me that, I was ripped to particles a minute later."

"That wasn’t Jean. It was something that had taken hold of her. You know Jean would never have done that to you, Slim. She loved you more than anything." Logan took a choked breath, bracing himself against possible disbelief, hostility even, at the sound of something he'd never been able to bring himself to say before, a neglect he might be bitterly regretting in a second. "Just like I do."

"You …?" Scott stared at him in visible shock but at least looking more there than he'd been in all these weeks before leaving for Alkali Lake back then, in spite of all of Logan's efforts to reach out to him. This time, when Logan carefully pulled the glasses away from Scott's face, he didn’t startle back. A beautiful sky-blue was staring back at Logan, wide with grief and confusion and pain … and suddenly, the longer they were fixed at him, with just a hint of understanding and hope. "You … Are you real? Are you here? For me?"

"What do you think? That I'd battle demons and play haunted house because I'm bored, instead of watching some game over a six-pack on a Friday night?" Logan threw Scott a crooked smile but quickly turned serious again, resting his hand on his lover's cheek again with tender circling fingertips on his temple which had helped Scott's frequent headaches back then so often, relieved to see Scott's eyelids flutter in beginning relaxation as if not a day had passed since then … And just like that, Logan knew what to do. "We had our first date in the Danger Room, a month after Alkali Lake. You kept on running into my claws because you were all over the place, and I had to stitch you up. We had a beer in the pool of your blood, we toasted to Jeannie, and then you cried on my uniform for half an hour. You deleted the record afterward, by the way, in case your obsessive brain is trying to convince you I'm someone else right now."

Scott shook himself a little, starting to look clearer by the second, his posture straightening, yet there was a distraught frown on his face as he looked around the room, his breathing promptly going too fast and uneven. "I … I don't … What …? Logan, what are you doing here in the Further? This is no place for you, you need to go …"

"Not without you, bub." Two knuckles firmly on his chin, Logan turned Scott's head back to him, seeking his gaze once more and never letting go of it. "I promised you, remember? When we kissed for the first time, on loungers under that swanky Ford Probe of yours. Starter was a bust. You needed something to fix after two of the teenagers were almost shot to death by bigots in the city. We were both covered in motor oil and you were crying again. I told you that day, you're no longer alone in all this shit and that I'm not going anywhere. I'm holding to that, Scott." Logan's thumb softly grazed Scott's far too-dry lower lip, brushing away the salt from his cheeks just like he had back then. "Phoenix is defeated, and most of us are still up and fighting. You have a lot left to live for, and someone who doesn’t want to live without you. I know how much you're hurting and I will do all I can to help you with that. But you have to let me. You have to trust me one more time. Think you can do that?"

Finally, Scott nuzzled firmly into that touch on his face, the last of his tears starting to dry on his skin. For the first time in what felt like months, Logan saw the shadow of a smile curl on his pretty lips. "I never stopped trusting you, Logan."

Relief flooding his soul, Logan reached out and pulled his lover in his arms, clumsily, with a jerk, pulling him right on top of him just to wrap his arms around him tightly, Scott's surprised, breathless chuckle in his ear. His eyes falling close, he suddenly found with a hint of a bad conscience that he had no real idea how they should get out of here, now that he'd found his target. Frost had probably told him but with his attention span not exactly being the greatest earlier … Before he could follow that trail of thought any further, his mind short-circuited a second time within an hour.

******

"Take it easy, Summers. Easy! Calm, deep breaths. I know that hurts like a bitch. Give your muscles a minute, they're new to this whole deal. That's it, just keep breathing. We got you …"

Logan awoke with what felt like probably the first damn hangover of his life, all his muscles stiff from a thrashing against his restraints that he couldn’t remember, the bitter taste of bile in his mouth, and the mother of all headaches behind his eyes. But he also awoke to the sight of Hank and Steve pulling out a certain reborn body from that damn medical tank, still snow-white and far too thin and covered in a sickening layer of drugs … But, far more importantly, underneath, carrying the grounded, familiar scent Logan had once fallen in love with, and moving on its own. "Frost?" He barely dared to ask, absolutely convinced for a moment after all these days of grief and the losses that the X-Men had suffered in the last crisis, that there was no way this could have really worked out, that it was probably just muscle spasms he was seeing, and that Stark would just shoot that zombified body right back into pieces in a second before it could harm anyone …

A small female hand, trembling from the effort of the job and weak still, came to rest on the wrist it had just freed from the last hackle, giving his hand a long, amicable squeeze. "Great job, Logan."

Only at the mention of his name, this instinctive, panicked struggling of the cloned body suddenly stopped, Scott's bare shape, still dripping sterile fluid, sinking onto a third stretcher next to them without resistance now, discreetly covered at last by a blanket Hank had brought, the patient's raspy breathing gradually slowing down. "Logan?"

"'m here." Weakly scooting over to the other stretcher that Emma had been nice enough to leave, feeling battered both in body and mind but happier than on any damn day since Alkali Lake, Logan bent over his lover, with his face firmly buried against Scott's neck, a strangled sob in his throat when he could feel that pulse against his cheek there finally going steady and strong.

A little too fast, even, when Scott tried to wrap his arm around him in return with muscles that would only have to learn again how to move right. At least turning his head to press his lips to Logan's ear, he managed, murmuring a hoarse, whispered thanks that wouldn’t have been necessary. "You came for me."

"Always, Slim. Told ya. To hell and back." Logan straightened up again to capture his lover's lips in a tender, long kiss before resting his head on that bony chest for long, precious minutes of an intimacy he'd thought never be allowed to feel again. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy before.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

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silvidaee · 11 months

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I have no idea how the Succession finale will go but i think in the end it’s all a question of “will they make Kendall (a miserable, pyrrhic victory and all that) ceo or will they make all the siblings loose again because they are not serious people?”

Kendall being ceo is possibly the most satisfying, but on the other hand, him becoming “a killer” without Logan there to see it doesn’t feel completely right to me. Now the other possibility implies a different ceo, and Tom is a good candidate? (I will loose what’s left of my sanity if this happens) Matsson could choose him as us ceo (maybe with the help of Greg?) and the gojo deal goes through, the siblings loose everything.

In any case i think everyone should be quite miserable tho, except for Greg because he’s being playing both sides and his arc seems to be pointing to him ending up in a good position.

Tom and Shiv will probably stay together and Roman… i could see him getting out of waystar?

Willa and Connor are the ones really winning by not being involved in all this mess lmao

#succession #my ideal ending is waystar burning to the ground and everyone ends up being miserable tho #tom ceo makes me crazy but he will have to loose something too to balance things.#if he ‘wins’ maybe Shiv will leave him for real this time #absolutely terrified but also excited aah #it’s the final day time to show our cards i guess!#succession finale #my only petition is a decent amount of significant tomgreg heheh

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sidespart · 3 years

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The Fall of King Romulus Part 9

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him… Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Roman kept his back straight and his gaze cold and aloof as he watched his proclamation sink in.

It was a simple thing, to be Romulus again.

Virgil and Patton had been sent to fight and die by their Kings. Roman had listened to Logan rant, many times, about his distain of the noble classes and their control over the common men. Whatever affection they had for Roman – it wouldn’t extend to Romulus.

They would leave.

“Well yes,” Logan said, sounding annoyed “I was getting to that.”

“What?!” Roman shrieked.

“Not require our services?” Virgil stared at him incredulously, “Didn’t we hire you?”

“Logan, you knew?” Patton said admiringly, “You’re so smart!”

“Oh, he did not.” Roman grumbled.

“Well.” Logan shuffled his feet, not looking directly at him, “The Marquis de Ornella called you Romulus. And you attempted to call him by his first name, so I assumed you knew each other- a noble connection was not out of the question.”

“Ha!” Roman pointed at him, vindicated “But you didn’t guess I was a prince, did you?”

“Well, no-” Logan looked on the verge of pouting.

“What services are we even providing? In this scenario?”

“-but If I had had time to do more research then- “

“You know what! That’s a great idea.” Patton smiled brightly, “I think we could all use a little cool down time – Logan why don’t you go back to the library and read up on Nothalevaele”.

“Notaleveale.” Logan corrected.

Patton frowned. “It’s not -aleveale? I swear that’s what he said.”

“It’s not Nothalevaele it’s Notaleveale”.

“Then what is it?”

Roman stuffed most of his good hand into his mouth to muffle a scream.

“Seriously.” Virgil smirked at him even as he leant over to adjust Roman’s pillow. “You just can’t get service like this anywhere else.”

Roman glared at him.

“He-” Virgil jerked his head at Logan, utterly unbothered by Roman’s glare – “shouldn’t go to the library alone.”

Patton nodded seriously and gave Vigil a wide smile.

Virgil glared back.

Patton raised both eyebrows.

Virgil folded his arms.

“No one needs to go anywhere – I told you I’m leaving.” Roman complained.

They ignored him.

Eventually whatever silent argument the two men were having ended with Virgil rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Go find your bag.” He told Logan, who nodded jerkily and all but fled the room.

Roman flopped back against the pillows with a thump, too tired to maintain his princely posture any longer. “He can go by himself, can’t he,” he muttered sulkily, “we’re not actually kids.”

Virgil and Patton exchanged another glance before Virgil turned away to the bedside table, fussing with his pots and potions.

“We’re not sure how many guards got a look at our faces before we got out of the bathhouse.” Patton told him, “Better not to risk traveling alone.”

“Oh.” Roman replied, his voice small.

He remembered the bathhouse. The screams from above. Virgil’s panic-stricken face as he glanced between them and the stairs. Logan with a blade at his throat.

He swallowed hard and cast his eyes down, picked idly at a loose thread of the blanket.

“We should be back before the bandages needs changing, but if you smell anything or see any new pus there’s some ointment left in this one.” Virgil held up a blue-green jar for Patton to see, “Just wash it out first with boiled water.”

“Pus!” Roman squeaked, looking up.

“Your hand was pretty screwed up.” Virgil told him gruffly, “The infection’s what gave you the fever. You need to drink more willow tea, at least one cup every hour – we’ll have to pick up some more salve whilst we’re out.” This last part he directed at Patton, who dutifully rummaged in their stack of bags and handed over their coin purse.

It looked worryingly empty. Roman remembered the extra nights they had booked at the inn – nights which they clearly hadn’t even ended up using - and winced.

“We should look for some road food too, Virgil continued “and a map if we’re really going nor – Oh!” He looked at Roman, eyes wide “Er – about the tea, I mean, you need to drink it every hour but only If you -want to? I mean you definitely should but” he waved his hands as if trying to physically shape the instruction into something optional. “You get it.”

Roman bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and tried to ignore the fondness bubbling up inside him. He had hardly even noticed the order.

“How long was I asleep?” He asked.

“Nearly two days.” Patton said softly. “You really scared us for a minute there kiddo.”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, “And- thank you. For taking care of me.”

“Aw Roman! You don’t have to be sorry for anything!” Patton said, “Or thank us – that’s what family’s for.”

“You’re not my family.” Roman said quietly, thinking of his father’s cool detachment and a castle full of empty rooms.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah whatever. Listen you gotta – you should eat. And sleep some more. And we are going to have to talk about all this when we’re back, okay Ro – er, Romulus?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Jeez do we have to call you that now?”

“I think it’s a nice name.” Patton interjected “It’s very umm. Regal.”

“Surely ‘Princey’ still works as a nickname?" Logan asked, returning to the room. He threw a pale green coat at Virgil, who made a face but obediently shrugged it on, pulling an orange knit cap down over the pointed tips of his ears.

Almost as an afterthought, he licked is thumb and rubbed at the dark kohl under each eye. He smirked down at Roman. “You ran away from being a prince and called yourself ‘Princey’?

“You called me that.” Roman said sulkily, deciding not to tell Virgil that he’d only succeeded in smearing the make-up.

“Umm.” Logan stood at the head of the bed. Roman braced himself for another round of interrogation, twisting the blanket between his hands. “I suspect I should apologise for– I was just trying to test my hypothesis before started making outlandish accusations. Obviously, I didn’t realise how long you have been dealing with- I mean, it’s actually quite impressive you maintained your sanity for this long given that-”

“Okay! Less talking!” Virgil declared, as Romans knuckles started to turn white. The elf slung one arm around Logan’s shoulders, propelling him towards the door.

“I was only trying to-”

“Later.”

The door closed behind them with a resounding thud.

“So” Patton said after a moment, casually reaching out with one thumb to wipe away the tears collecting in the bard’s eyes, “Would you like food first or a nap?”

***

The library of Steveange was the crowning jewel of the city. A towering hexagonal building that sat upon the cities highest peak, directly across from the gates to the royal palace.

Which meant the journey was almost all uphill.

Typical.

Virgil huffed, breathing heavily as he stomped his way through the streets, Logan practically trotting to keep up with his long strides.

Prince Romulus of Notaleveale.

Honestly, what the fuck.

At least it explained the whole armed guards thing.

Except actually it explained nothing because if you found a runaway member of the royal family, why in the hell would you then tie them up in a bathhouse basement?

Unless they were traitors working against the royal family – but then why go after a runaway prince at all? Ransom? They hadn’t exactly looked strapped for cash….

And why a bathhouse? Why not one the extremely defensible manor houses that were scattered throughout the upper echelons of the city??

Virgil let out a growl of frustration and came to a stop.

Roman’s injuries had been too systematic to have come from a fight. The northerners had tortured him.

And now he wanted to go back there?

It didn’t make any sense…unless of course the kidnappers had ordered him to go back…

Virgil took a deep breath and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to banish that thought. If he started thinking about the curse again he was going to lose it; end up in a spiral of what had they done and what had they missed and HOW were they supposed to protect him if-

“Virgil? Do you need me to count for seven?”

He forced his eyes open to meet Logan’s worried face and let out the breath he’d been holding in a rush.

“I’m good.” He told the younger man unconvincingly.

“We could go back-” Logan started, but Virgil shook his head.

As much as he bristled at being managed, he didn’t think Patton had been wrong to split the group.

Roman – or whatever they were calling him now– was barley recovered. He’d looked so small, propped up against the pillows without a lute or sword or smile between himself and the world.

Small and scared. And puffing himself up like a songbird trying to look big for a cat.

The four of them yelling for answers at once was only going to freak him out more. Patton had a much better chance getting information out of him one on one.

Still…

“You think we’re going got get anything useful out of this trip?” he asked Logan bluntly.

“The library of Stevenage is one of the greatest collections of written knowledge on the entire continent and in times of uncertainty, knowledge is our greatest weapon... and our greatest defence.” Logan told him, a serious look in his eye.

“Right.” Virgil nodded absently, “Do you think they’ve got a copy of ‘curse breaking for idiots?”

***

Roman woke up for the second time that day with a throbbing headache on top of his other aches and pains. He spent a few minutes cursing himself for not taking up Patton’s offer of willow tea before he’d gone back to sleep and then swung his legs out of the bed.

He needed to get up. He needed to relieve himself and wash and eat and and-

And figure out what to do next.

He needed to know if Remus was safe. If he was on the throne or locked up somewhere or worse.

Which meant going home.

Which meant getting away from his friends.

No one else was going to get hurt because of him and his petty little problems.

Nodding decisively to himself he sprung to his feet. And then swiftly sat back down as the world tilted alarmingly around him.

“Roman?” There was a polite knock at the door and Patton stuck his head in.

“Hey kiddo!” the big man smiled at him, “Are you hungry?”

Roman felt his heart rate speed up and tried to summon some of Romulus’ cool detachment. Patton knew about his curse. If anyone learned about his curse, they would try to exploit it. They would use it to hurt his family, to hurt-

Roman bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of anxiety. This was Patton.

Roman was more likely to be a burden to him then an opportunity.

Before he could manage to come up with a suitable greeting his stomach growled, loudly, making him blush and Patton laugh.

“Shall I bring something up? Or do you want to come sit at the table?”

“…Table.” Roman mumbled, keeping his eyes locked somewhere in the vicinity of Patton’s left ear. Even though he knew, in his head and in his heart, that Patton wasn’t going to hurt him - he still felt oddly vulnerable with his secret sitting between them. Attempting eye contact made something inside him twist uncomfortably.

His mother had always said Romulus was shy.

If Patton noticed his odd behaviour he didn’t mention it, nor did he insist on carrying Roman down the stairs or otherwise manhandling him. Instead he hovered at his elbow as he made his way from the room, keeping up a running commentary of the house as they descended the stairs.

The room that Roman had been staying in was the attic. Immediately outside the door was a set of stairs so steep they may as well have been a ladder. Patton must have been perched out here, Roman thought guilty, giving him space but close enough to hear him get up. At the base of these stairs was a short landing where most of the items normally stored in the attic were now haphazardly stacked.

“That’s Mama’s room.” Patton nodded at a closed door, as he gingerly ducked under a rolled-up carpet which was wedged against the wall. “And that’s the store cupboard”. At the base of the next steep flight was a hallway Roman recognised: kitchen at one end, main door at the other. There was another door opposite the stairs that he hadn’t noticed on his first visit, with a moon and stars motif painted at eye level.

“That’s her work room.” Patton told him, seeing Romans curious glance, “She’s asked us to stay out of there- it’s where she sees customers.”

Customers. Roman filed that thought away. He had almost forgotten they were in a witch’s house.

Patton took him straight through the kitchen, where a back door led into a narrow garden. The herb bed was surprisingly neat, given the haphazard nature of the house, with small labels pinned neatly next to each plant. At the far end were two wooden structures. “Storage shed.” Patton pointed, “Outhouse. Do you need help using it?”

Roman shook his head vehemently - clung to Patton’s arm briefly when the movement made him dizzy – and stomped to the outhouse to relieve himself.

After a few steps though he stopped.

Patton knew about the curse. And Patton wouldn’t hurt him so-

He could ask.

“Pat?“

“Yeah?” Patton – or at least his ear – looked concerned.

“I. um. My arm is…”

Virgil had instructed him to keep his arm still in his sling until the herbs had done their work and clearly, they hadn’t happened yet. The thing was still pinned across his chest.

Not that he couldn’t navigate the outhouse one handed if he had too. But his balance wasn’t exactly great at the moment and tripping in there was one humiliation he would have liked to avoid.

But then again, it’s not like his hand was any use. He would really just be freeing up the use of his elbow and why was even bothering Patton with something so stupid and embarrassing an-

“Roman. Hold your… hold your whole body however you like.”

He nodded jerkily as his shoulder relaxed for the first time since waking up, letting his arm drop a little lower.

He didn’t look at Patton as he made his escape to the outhouse.

***

When he returned Patton had pulled a tin bathtub from who-knows-where onto the slab of paving stone by the kitchen door and was testing the water’s temperature with his elbow.

“Virgil left us some potions.” He told Roman as he approached – “This is another one to help healing and this-” he held up a red tinted bottle “-should give us bubbles!”

Roman stared at the bath almost hungrily. Hot water was a luxury under normal circumstances and between the travel, the bath house and the fever he knew he must reek of sweat and dirt. Surely, he deserved a little pampering before the journey North?

“It’s still too hot.” Patton warned him before he could launch himself into the water. Instead, the other man gestured to a pretty wrought iron table and two chairs set against the left side fence. He produced bread and jam alongside a mug of tea, advising him to eat slowly as went to grab another bucket of water from the cauldron simmering away in Tay’s kitchen.

Although Patton had been careful not to make an order, Roman still made sure he followed his instructions carefully. He had no desire to make himself sick. Or to make more work for the other man.

He pulled his bread apart into small bites and ate them one at a time, watching Patton critically as he limped his way back to the table.

“Did you get hurt…in the bathhouse?”

“…A few bruises.” Patton told him honestly, spreading a thick layer of jam on his own bread, “Nothing too bad”

“I’m sorry.” Roman said again, pulling his remaining bread into smaller and smaller pieces.

“Ro-man!” Patton said cheerfully – “you don’t need to apologise! It was those Ornelly guys that hit me not you!”

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.”

Roman hunched and cursed himself. Sorry sorry sorry. Couldn’t he say anything useful?

“Roman hey – can you look at me please?”

It took more effort than he would have liked, but Roman did. Patton’s eyes were big and blue and very, very kind. Roman jerked his gaze away immediately.

“None of us blame you for what happened. Okay?”

“You got hurt because of me.” Roman blurted. “Logan nearly died- “

“I told you, that was on the Ornellans, not you-“

“Who were there specifically because of me! That excuse doesn’t work Pat I-“

He cut himself off, eyes glued to the floor once more. Hadn’t he just decided he didn’t want to cause any more trouble?

“Sorry.”

He heard Patton sigh and tried not to flinch, but when the other man spoke his voice was still gentle. “How many bubbles do you want?”

***

Whenever Virgil got upset, he always wanted space. It was something Patton found difficult, as his instinct was to smother the other man with affection until he smiled again, but experience had given him the patience to wait until his friend was ready.

When Logan got upset, he always claimed he needed space – but what he really wanted was an audience. He needed to talk through the problem, often at length, and know that someone was listening, even if he didn’t always want their advice.

Roman though – Roman liked attention. Roman liked fuss and pampering and his favourite food and to know, demonstrably, that someone was worried about him.

It didn’t mean he was great at asking for it. Patton remembered vividly his insistence on hopping half a mile on a twisted ankle before Patton had all but begged him to accept a piggyback.

He also remembered a time after a poorly received show when Roman had spent the evening sulking, sighing loudly and dramatically and slumping against each of them in turn until Patton had laughingly pulled him into a hug. Oh my god Vigil had snarked were you not hugged enough as a child?

It had been funny. At the time. Sort of.

Not so much now.

Since lying back against the tub’s rim would aggravate the wounds on his back, Roman was hunched forward in the tub, his bandaged arm hanging over the edge.

“Did I ever tell you how Virgil and I met?” Patton asked, settling on his knees next to the tub.

Roman twitched. There was a tactic agreement amongst the four of them not to discuss their pasts. This was more than fine with Patton, who was much more concerned with making new, happy memories then revisiting old ones, but he didn’t blame Roman and Logan for being curious.

Whenever the pair were on watch together, conversation often turned to whispered debate over the southern pair’s origin. Whilst he felt a bit bad for pretending to be asleep, Patton quite enjoyed their speculation.

His favourite was the circus performer theory. Virgil would probably has made a good acrobat.

“It was in the war.” he continued, scooping up some of the water and wetting Roman’s hair.

“I um. I volunteered you know? All the boys in my town did. I think we thought- well I know I thought it was the right thing to do. Finaley’ed was the enemy after all, we had to keep our families safe.”

He chuckled sadly, focusing on making sure every strand of Roman’s hair was damp before gently capturing a handful of bubbles and placing them on the other man’s head.

“Made you a crown.” he giggled.

Roman turned just enough to peak at him incredulously through one eye and Patton winced.

“Right. Sorry.”

Roman turned away again but Patton though he saw him suppressing a smile. Score!

“Um anyway” – he poured a measure of oil from one of Virgil’s bottles and rubbed it between his fingers before leaning over to begin massaging Roman’s scalp – “It was okay at first. I was in a regiment with all my friends, it was a bit of an adventure honestly.”

“And then there was this Major. He came to inspect us before we got done training and he – he said I was good. That I should get a chance to really make a difference in the war.”

He dragged his fingers through Roman’s hair, gently detangling the strands.

“He put me in a new regiment. All big guys. Like me. And they- they gave us this – I’m not even sure what it was. My buddy Micha used to say it was ground up swamp frogs but I don’t know.”

He started scooping up water again, rinsing some of the bubbles and oil from Roman’s hair.

“It made us…strong. Angry. Scary. Berserk well– that was the point. I don’t. um.” Some of the water sloshed over his cupped palms and Patton realised he was shivering.

“I killed a lot of people…. I mean I definitely made a difference to them.” He finished bitterly.

“…s’not your fault.” Patton glanced up to see Roman had twisted to look at him, was doing his best to maintain eye contact despite Patton’s confession. Patton smiled at him. Roman really was a sweet kid.

“It’s what I signed up for kiddo. Just faster.”

He sighed, nudging Roman gently to turn around so that he could finish rinsing his hair. “I’m not. I’m not saying it’s the same as what you’ve gone through. I know it isn’t. Just – I get it. A little. What it’s like not having any control.”

For a moment they sat in silence, the only sound the trickle of water as Patton continued lifting handfuls to Roman’s scalp.

Then the bard let out a shuddering breath and said: “My major’s name was Julius.”

“Oh?” Patton whispered.

“He was my dad’s friend. He was supposed to find a way to break the curse, but he didn’t. Then he just…started helping me figure out how to live with it. He was helping me. He was supposed to be…”

Roman took a deep breath “He’s the reason I-ack.” He broke off, coughing. Patton reached forward to hold him up, alarmed.

“Ro?”

“I’m okay.” But he didn’t look it, red faced and scowling. “I-” he gripped Patton’s arm looking right into his eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

Patton nodded slowly, understanding. “You can’t – not because you don’t want to.”

Roman nodded.

Patton frowned. “Can I – could I order you too? I could undo what Virgil said about your arm right?”

Roman sighed shaking his head. “The curse is. It’s fickle. But words are important -if you don’t know what you’re contradicting it’s almost impossible and Julius he – he was very good at giving orders.”

“Right.” Patton frowned. “What if I guess? Like Logan figured out the curse?”

“You can try.” Roman laughed bitterly.

“Hmm okay – was he the reason you left home?”

Roman span around so quickly water splashed over the side of the tub. “Patton! How’d you know?”

“Well gee kiddo! The frog pills didn’t rattle too many cells loose!” Patton laughed tapping the side of his head. Then frowned. “Well, I hope not…”

Roman winced. “Patton I – I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

“Well.” Patton smiled sadly, “Likewise Ro-Romulus.”

The other man sighed, sinking low in the tub again. “I liked being Roman.” he blurted out suddenly, a look of abject misery on his face.

“Then – why stop?” Patton whispered.

“I-” He frowned. “I would like to not be naked for this conversation.”

“That’s fair.” Patton nodded and helped him to his feet.

***

By the time Roman was up, towelled off and dressed in one of Patton’s old shirts that he had long ago claimed as a sleep shirt, he looked about ready to pass out again. Patton left him sitting at the table to finish drying in the sunshine whilst he dashed upstairs to change the sheets on the attic bed. When he returned with the laundry pile, he found that Mittens had emerged and settled himself on the bard’s– the prince’s – lap.

Roman looked up at him guilty - “Your allergies.”

“It’s easier outside.” Patton waved him off. Mittens had been the key to them finding Roman, as far as Patton on was concerned, the cat’s comfort was worth a few sneezes.

He took a seat at the table and nudged the remaining bread towards Roman, who took it hungrily, eating with much more enthusiasm than before the bath.

“So you were saying...” Patton prompted.

Roman pouted at him, cheeks stuffed with bread.

“’u first.” he swallowed, “You never got to how you met Virgil. Was he in the berserkers – in the special regiment too?”

“Oh, no.” Patton shook his head vehemently. “Virgil wasn’t like me. He was a conscript – for the other side.”

An exceptionally fat bumble bee had found Tay’s herb garden and was repeatedly bouncing off the side of some chives. Patton focused on the bewildered looking insect rather than Roman’s face and his finished the story.

“A small group of us had got separated from the rest. It was quite deep in the forest, away from the main battle. We were meant to find their camp and pick them off there, but we couldn’t find them. And then we couldn’t find the way back.”

The bee, finally free of the chives, crashed headfirst into a Rosemary bush.

“It was like… like my blood was on fire. We hadn’t been so long without it before. And then...”

“And then?”

“We stumbled on a group of them. Of Finaley’ii soldiers. And there was a fight.” Patton closed his eyes. Screams and sobs and blood on his sword and in his eyes and Micha gasping uselessly around the arrow in his throat “I don’t remember it much. But when it was over it was like I…woke up.”

He smiled.

“And there he was. Virgil. Pointing s crossbow right at my face.”

“He what!” Roman yelped and Patton laughed.

“Well, we were on opposite sides kiddo and I had just…well. The thing was, it was only us left then. No one was ordering to kill each other and so we just…didn’t. Neither of us was in any big rush to find our armies again so….”

“Virgil asked me to help him find his mom, so we headed east. We couldn’t find her, so he said he’d help me find my town and we went west. That was gone too.”

“The whole town?” Roman as looking at him with sorrowful eyes.

“That’s the problems with wars kiddo – they don’t stay in one place.”

“What about your family?”

Patton shrugged. Mittens hopped down from Roman’s lap and began to stalk the errant bee.

“Maybe they got away. I hope so.” He glanced at Roman again. “Virgil was the one who suggested we keep going west. Get away entirely, see if we could find any refugees, look for our families.” He smiled fondly. “He’s always been the brave one, not me.”

“And – and did you?” Roman asked. He was bent forward, eyes fixed on Patton’s own.

“No.” Patton sighed. “I like to think they’re safe and sound somewhere. Set up a new house, found new people to care for. Like I did. But… “

He trailed off. But most likely they were dead. Like Patton should be.

“What if…if you knew where they were.” Roman said quietly, “Would you go see them- check on them?”

Patton rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the multitude of scars that littered the right side. “I don’t know.” He told Roman honestly. “I would like to know if they were okay but…I don’t know if they’d want to see me.”

Roman nodded.

On the other side of the garden, there was a sudden yowling from the rosemary bush. Mittens came charging towards them with his tail fluffed up and circled Roman’s chair twice before leaping onto the fence.

Patton giggled – “Well that’s what you get for trying to fight a bee you silly cat!”

“I think my brothers in danger.” Roman said in a rush.

Patton blinked.

“Your brother?”

He was back to staring down. Both fists clenched tightly together. “I left him. Back home. I thought I-” he coughed again. “I thought he would be safe but now I’m not sure.”

“In danger from what kiddo?”

“From Julius.” Roman breathed. “I saw him. Or. Or I think I did.”

Slowly, haltingly, Roman told him about meeting the Marquis. About the bathhouse basement and the northern soldiers and the figure he called the grey man who had slipped in and out of Julius’ face.

Patton did his best to keep his own face clam as Roman casually described being forced to hurt himself, even as his own knuckles turned white from his grip on the chairs’ arm.

“He said he had sent Lucius to the inn after some – some escaped prisoner? And he found me. But Lucius knew about the curse and he never did before so- “

“Roman?” Patton interrupted. “Sorry - can I give you a hug?”

“Oh!” Roman blinked at him, blushing slightly, “If you – if you want to?”

“I really do.” Patton scrambled to his feet, wrapping the younger man in his arms and feeling Roman sag against him. He resisted the urge to squeeze, mindful of his injuries. “You’re safe now.” He whispered. “I gottcha.”

Roman giggled wetly against his chest. “Julius. He said he’d assumed I’d died.” He mumbled. “But now that he knows I’m around? He’ll try again Pat I know he will. I- “

He drew back, looking up at Patton with tear filled eyes. “I can’t risk you all getting hurt because of me.”

“That’s not your decision to make Roman.” Patton told him softly. “We think you’re worth the risk.”

“But I’m not Roman.” He whimpered. He hadn’t relinquished his grip on Patton, who began to run his hand soothingly up and down the prince’s back.

“Well, if we’re being technical, I’m not Patton.” Patton rested his head on top of Roman’s own. “Me and Vigil picked new names after we left the war and I – I like being Patton.”

There was a pause. Roman squeezed a little tighter.

“I like Patton too.”

Patton laughed; some tension he hadn’t realised he was holding draining away. When Roman drew back this time, he had a shaky smile on his face.

“So.” He stepped back, wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist. “I need to…go back north. Check on my brother. Avoid Julius and Lucius and anyone connected with Romulus. You sure that’s worth the risk?”

“Yep!” Patton said instantly. “And we need to break the curse!”

“I guess.” Roman shrugged. “I really do think it’s impossible Pat’.”

“Eh.” Patton waved a hand dismissively “That’s never stopped Logan before.”

When Roman laughed then, he almost sounded like himself.

If you enjoyed this chapter please hit ~ reblog ~

#roman sanders #patton sanders #royality #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #creativitwins #sanders sides #ts: fall of Romulus #this chapter ended up ENORMOUS #i had to cut it in two #rip analogical library times we will get to you next week.#sidespart writes

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Insanity

Prompt: Hi... I uh... I’m back, again anonymously.... to see if maybe... you could... write a thing? No pressure but if so... maybe a hurt/comfort?

Remus is used to dealing with feeling like he is loosing his mind on his own. Like he puts up an insane front so that the others don’t notice when he is loosing his grip on his sanity. Then he ends up laughing as he is falling apart and thinking that he has indeed found the real meaning of going insane. And he just laughs until it hurts and the laughing fades but the tears don’t stop. He’s thinking of doing something drastic like just running away to the subconscious so he doesn’t have to exist as a side anymore, but on his was he runs into Janus and Virgil or other people if ya want. Then they talk him down out of his insanity and realize remus needs a lot more help than they ever imagined.

I know this is a really long prompt and if you don’t wanna write it no pressure whatsoever. I just like your writing better than mine lol. Uh, thanks if you do and thanks for having boundaries if you don’t! <3

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 2 (ish)

Warnings: as you can guess, this revolves not just around Remus, but on intrusive thoughts. Self-harm, suicidal ideation, psychosis, insanity. There is a happy ending where our boi gets comforted and grounded, but the way to getting there ain’t pretty. Take care of yourselves please

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes the world just fucking sucks.

Sometimes the world just really fucking hates him.

Sometimes the world just fucking sucks.

Remus doesn’t know why his brain decides that right fucking now is the perfect time to swan dive off a balcony into a wrought-iron fence, he just knows that the wind on his face cuts his cheek like ice because of how cold it is.

He doesn’t understand the compulsion to stride to the middle of a volcano and dive into the magma just to see how the lava flows on the inside, he just knows that the burn in his hands from being even this close to a volcano is only matched by the burn in his head to just fucking go.

He really doesn’t know how he ends up wanting to rip his brother apart, piece by piece, so he can see how every inch of his muscles work, he only knows that hat he’s got his arms tightly around Roman, it’s the most grounded he’s felt in fucking ages.

Sometimes the world just really fucking hates him.

The light switch would look perfect controlling the precise contractions of his organs. The bird that flies by outside the window tears his trachea out with its razor-sharp beak. The water bottle Patton uses would screw into his eye sockets until his corneas shattered.

Remus knows to laugh them off. They can’t hurt him, they’re his! His ideas! They’re supposed to be disgusting, revolting, it’s a good sign if it’s him they revolt too. After all, he’s sure as hell got higher standards.

On the other hand…is this what it fucking feels like?

The idea of using a knife sometimes makes it feels like ants are crawling through his bone marrow. The steel glints way too harshly in the light as he picks it up and suddenly all he can see is blood, blood, and more blood, cuts in his arms, throbbing muscle, it hurts, why doesn’t it hurt that bad, make it stop, make it go away —

Remus takes a deep breath and puts the knife down.

He’ll walk past a window on a bad day and all he can feel is glass, sharp glass, in his skin, in his eyes, in his tongue, broken glass, inside him, cutting little nicks and tears and it hurts, it won’t stop hurting, why can’t he taste the blood, what’s happening to him—

He draws the curtains and walks away without another word.

The Sides are all there in the living room and his hands itch for his morning star, for a sledgehammer, something, anything to break them apart, put them back together, stitch them up in horribly beautiful ways, listen to their screams as their vocal chords break, why can’t he hear them screaming, why are their screams so loud—

He smiles feebly and sinks out.

Remus curls up in his bed and howls, the room collapsing in on itself, pressing against his lungs. He keeps screaming and screaming and screaming until he’s laughing. He laughs. He keeps laughing until his voice dies in his throat. He keeps laughing.

Something has its wriggly little talons in his stomach and he can’t stop laughing. It hurts. He can’t breathe. He wants it to stop. He never wants to know what it’s like to laugh again. He never wants to stop laughing.

He wants it to stop.

He knows exactly what this fucking feels like.

He can’t open his eyes sometimes because he can’t look at what he knows will appear in front of him. He can’t close his eyes sometimes because he’s too terrified of what will be carved into the underside of his lids. He can’t speak because he knows what horrifying thing will tumble out of his mouth. He can’t stay quiet because he knows what happens when all the voices stay trapped in his head.

He can’t be because it hurts too much.

He can’t not be because then it will stop hurting.

The others don’t know about this. Of course they fucking don’t. They don’t listen to him when he fucking wants to talk to them about shit, why the fuck would they pay attention to the stuff he doesn’t want to tell them?

Patton doesn’t give a single flying fuck about him. He made that perfectly fucking clear.

Logan thinks he’s boring. That’s the most fucking offensive thing Remus has ever heard, and that’s fucking saying something.

Virgil’s a scaredy-cat. And he’s gotten boring to terrify. Virgil’s afraid of fucking everything.

Janus is so nuanced, it’s fucking annoying.

Roman’s his brother.

Remus growls and rocks himself faster, clutching the sides of his shirt until the fabric tears. He squeezes his eyes shut and ignores the pain in his ribs. The voices howl and cackle as the winds swirl around him. He ignores them as best he can.

It’s fucking cold in here and it’s too fucking hot.

They don’t see this part of the fucking mess that is Remus’s existence. They don’t see the un-fun parts of the crazy. They don’t see the reality of what Remus has to deal with.

They see the sex jokes, the crude puns, the horrible images he plants in their funny little heads. What must it be like in there, it must be so boring.

They don’t see the way he has to hold himself back from jumping onto every sharp object, throwing himself from every high height, digging his teeth into his own flesh and stripping it away from the bone.

Remus growls as he shoves the pillow between his teeth. The cotton tastes awful but it keeps his teeth away from his own tongue. He’d tried that once, tried biting it off, maybe the horrible taste of battery acid would leave his mouth if he had no tastebuds. He just wound up on the floor of the bathroom, vomiting up chunk after chunk until his tongue grew back, twitching against the roof of his mouth. He started biting the pillows after that.

It’s so fucking stupid, that they can’t fucking see this shit. He knows he can’t let them, he’s got fucking wires crawling around beneath his skin. He’s convinced of it. He can’t listen to Patton being condescending, he can’t listen to Logan flatly telling him he’s off his fucking rocker, he can’t listen to Virgil flip out at him, he can’t listen to Janus’s snide disapproval.

He can’t fuck up his brother.

So he just laughs.

Long and loud and hard and obnoxious because if they’re listening to the laughter they’re not listening to him.

There’s always going to be something they fucking want to pick on with him; they’re so fucking boring they can’t tolerate a little bit of difference. But if they start poking at his scars with their razor-long nails he’s going to rip open his skin and let the swarm of wasps inside him devour them whole. So he just laughs and laughs and lets them stare at him in disgust.

Disgust is better.

Sometimes his laughter is fucking hysterical, rising and rising and rising until they’re all screaming at him at the top of their lungs just to be heard. They say that he’s scaring them. Good. They should fucking be scared.

Sometimes his laughter is just in his head. They say they can’t hear him but he’s laughing. He’s laughing and they can’t hear him. Could they ever?

Sometimes he doesn’t realize it’s him. Someone will be laughing and they’ll all be glaring at him and oh, yeah, that’s him.

Sometimes he just can’t shut the fuck up.

Maybe it would be easier if he fucking could.

If he could shut his brain the fuck up for two goddamn seconds maybe he could actually make this work. Maybe he could be palatable enough to be tolerated. What does being tolerated feel like? What does it look like? Is it red, like blood, does it run in rivulets down his arms?

Is it dry, like the pillows? Does it just sit there in the corner, begging to be torn apart by razor-sharp teeth, or does it actively try to suffocate him as he wraps his mouth around words that won’t ever fit?

Or is it empty, hollow, like the blood vessels in his heart? Does it make him ache when a strong breeze blows by? Does it taste like steel, ozone, does it burn his tongue as he tries to breathe?

What does tolerance feel like, Remus wonders, because he’s all too familiar with isolation.

He’s never really alone. The voices won’t leave him be. They scream and cackle and whisper and taunt him with their awful, awful words and ideas and images and sensations. But he’s alone in every way that matters.

Except for the monsters.

He and Roman haven’t told the others about the Subconscious. It’s the one thing they’ve both consistently agreed on. The others don’t get to know about the Subconscious.

It’s not a nice place. It’s not even really a place. It’s a void, deep and vast, populated by things darker than darkness. The things in there are terrifying enough to make Remus’s skin crawl. They drag things down into the depths and rip them from the inside out, shredding tissues as they’re flipped inside out.

Monsters live in there.

Beasts. Creatures. Things.

They whisper to Remus sometimes. Their tongues are soaked in fear. Not Virgil’s type of fear, a thicker type of fear. It oozes out of their gaping maws and coats Remus’s limbs until he’s stuck, drowning in a tar pit. Insanity.

Sometimes he can struggle out of it.

Not this time.

The monster purrs in satisfaction as its shadows whip about the walls, crawling up to the ceiling, tapping their long, bony fingers against the very edges of the eye. His ribcage creaks, rent asunder by the sudden invisible weight. Dark passages yawn at the foot of his bed, around the fuzzy edges of the candle’s glow. Is there a candle in here? He’s not allowed a candle. Why is there a candle in here?

The shadows creep closer, up the long winding staircase—staircase? Where is he? Is he moving? Are they moving him?—through the banister, dancing up the curtain strings. There is insanity here, delectable, soaking through the walls, coloring the soft breaths that sigh in the still interior. The shadows creep closer, luxuriating in the darkness, the unseen. Remus stands at the brink of madness, teetering, awake, dripping head to toe in insanity.

A single candle burns atop the nightstand. He’s not allowed a candle. Its light flickers. His head pokes out above the sheets, fingers curled around its edge. He didn’t tuck himself in. He isn’t in bed. Yes, he is. The bed is standing up behind him. Now it’s lying down. He doesn’t know what’s real anymore.

He dares not move, lest the shadows hear him and find him, and yet he dares not close his eyes. A chill reaches a long finger through the window pane and lightly strokes the space between his shoulder blades. He keens.

The fingers lift his hairs to stand aloft, tugging them as if they are puppeteering his arms. They aren’t his arms. They never were. The chill cackles, diving to squeeze his legs, massaging its frigidity into his thighs. A knuckle comes up to trail along the soft skin under his arms, laughing as he curls up tight, trying to block the probing touches from snatching the rest of his warmth. He’s too warm. He’s too cold. The air atop him merely flutters, letting the chill dig and prod and one at him with its relentless talons. The insanity merely rumbles, soaking him to the bone. Is that what it wants? To steal his bones?

As the insanity drips through the air, it fills his ears, sending the shadows along the walls, up the ceiling, down beneath the skin. The light flickers. The insanity pours into his eyes. The chill rubs it in, still reaching wiggling fingers toward the soft meat of his tummy, blowing the insanity into ripples across his pupils. It reaches two fingers into his mouth, sliding across his tongue. As he gasps, it wriggles back under his arms and cackles anew. The insanity simply hums, sliding across his skin, down to pool in the hollow of his arms, nestled against his chest. Crueler hands dig into the meat at the back of his knees, the undersides of his rear, delighting in how he shivers. He whimpers. A knuckle runs over the very edge of him and lingers, coaxing the insanity to its wiggling lure.

The pit yawns beneath him, the monster voice luring him in, closer, deeper, come, down…

He does the only thing he can do.

He laughs.

Loudly. Heartily. He laughs so hard it bends him in half, cracking his spine. The sound scrapes along his throat. It rips spittle out of him, flying off into the darkness. He laughs. He laughs. He can’t stop laughing.

Spittle is joined by tears.

He can’t stop.

It won’t stop.

They won’t stop.

Nothing ever stops.

“Remus? Remus!”

“Jesus Christ, Remus, what’s going on?”

“Come away from there, sweetie, you’re going to fall.”

“Remus, come on, come here, listen to us, come on, you’re—you’re gonna fall.”

Hands wrap around his arms and yank, sending him hurtling back from the edge. He falls into something soft.

“Hey, hey,” comes the quiet growl, “hey, dude, it’s okay. Shh, shh, breathe, Remus, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Too late.

“You gotta breathe, man. It’s gonna be worse if you don’t.”

I can’t, Remus thinks frantically, I can’t breathe.

He’s still laughing. There are still tears running down his face.

“In and out, Remus, you can do it…”

Virgil? Is that Virgil? Isn’t Virgil scared of him? Why is Virgil here?

“There you go, Remus, it’s okay…” Virgil’s rubbing his arms. Arm? How many does he have? “It’s okay.”

Something hits his chest like a thunderclap and he gasps.

“That’s it, that’s it…it’s okay, Remus, it’s gonna be okay.” Something’s strangling him. No—no, trapping him. Also no. What’s happening? “You’re alright now, Remus.”

“V—Virgil?”

“Yeah, Remus, it’s me. J’s here too, it’s gonna be okay. We got you.”

Remus cranes his head backward to look up at what’s holding him. Janus smiles down at him, concern written plainly all over his face.

“Hey, sweetie,” he says softly, stroking Remus’s damp cheek, “you gave us quite the scare there.”

“S-scare?”

“You looked like you were hurting,” he says, not unkindly, “and that you were scared.”

Something twists in his gut.

“What would you know about being scared?”

To their credit, neither of them fucking blinks.

“I know that I care about you,” Janus murmurs, still cupping Remus’s face, “and that the thought of you falling into that pit scared me.”

“I care about you too,” Virgil says, “and you were hurting.”

“Everything hurts,” Remus hisses, yanking at Janus to get him to let go, “there are ants crawling around inside of me and monsters force-feeding me insanity.”

Virgil shoots Janus a worried look. Janus reaches behind them to fetch a tissue box, silently cleaning Remus’s face.

“It won’t stop,” he mutters, “it never stops.”

“What never stops, sweetie?”

“Everything.”

Janus glances up. Then back down.

“The others are worried,” he says softly, “they want to come see you. Should we let them?”

He can’t hold back the scoff. “Why would they care?”

“Because they care about you, sweetie, you’re important.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Of fucking course you are,” Virgil says immediately, “don’t say that.”

“You’ve got a fucking funny way of showing it,” Remus hisses, “you don’t want me around.”

“That’s not true!”

“Patton.”

“No, Logan! He doesn’t believe we care about him, let me go—“

“Patton?” Remus turns his head.

Patton…Patton is also crying?

The other Side drops to his knees in front of Remus, reaching out to catch another set of Remus’s tears in his palms. His lip wobbles, curling around Remus protectively.

“Of course we care about you, kiddo,” he manages, “you’re so wonderful.”

“You can’t fucking stand me.”

“I don’t understand you,” Patton corrects, “but I could never hate you. You’re so passionate. I love the way you love things.”

Fucking pause.

“You—you what?”

“I care about you, kiddo.” Patton presses his forehead against Remus’s. “Please don’t leave.”

What the fuck is going on? The monsters pull back, uncertain, but the ants have no such qualms. They burrow deeper into his bones, crawling through his muscles in searing agony.

“Remus,” Logan calls softly, “Remus, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he gasps, “yeah, I can hear you.”

“Good.” There’s a gentle hand under his chin. “What’s the matter?”

“There are ants in my bones and monsters trying to drown me in insanity.”

Logan just nods. He fucking nods. “Why do you think there are ants in your bones?"

“I can fucking feel them,” Remus growls, “they chewed through my veins. They’re in me.”

“Where do you think they started,” Logan says softly, “can you show me?”

Remus just lifts his wrists limply. Logan takes one in his hands, frowning in concentration as he runs his fingers gently over the skin.

“There aren’t any marks here,” he pronounces after a moment, “no holes, no bite marks.”

“There…there aren’t?”

“Not here.” Logan holds his hand out, palm up in offering. “Where else?”

He lays his other wrist shakily in Logan’s grip. He looks it over with the same attentive care, pronouncing no bite marks. No ants.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he promises, rubbing his thumb over the back of Remus’s hand, “is there anywhere else you’d like me to check?”

“Behind my ears,” he blurts before he can stop himself, “I—I can hear them.”

Logan nods and stretches his arm forward. “Come here, then.”

Has Logan always been this…soft? The gentle fingers pressing and stroking behind his ear, carding through his hair, have they always been so…kind?

“Would you like me to take a picture,” Logan whispers after a moment, “to show you there’s nothing?”

Remus nods. There’s a quiet click of the camera shutter.

“See?”

“…yeah. Yeah.”

“Anywhere else?”

“My back. My spine. It—it hurts.”

“May I have a look, then?”

Logan checks him over. Every single spot. He doesn’t once roll his eyes or huff that Remus is being ridiculous. He doesn’t scold him for it. He doesn’t pretend that the ants are real and he knows how to get them out. He doesn’t tell Remus that he’s going to be eaten alive from the inside.

He just…checks. Patiently and thoroughly. His hands are warm. His voice is quiet.

“I can have an x-ray ordered,” he says after he checks the last spot, “if you’re still unsure.”

“N-no,” Remus manages, shaking a little, “I—I believe you.”

Logan nods. He reaches out to cup Remus’s chin again. “Are you alright?”

Is he?

Has he ever been?

“N-no.”

“That’s okay.” Logan smiles—fucking smiles—at him and glances up at the others. “Can I show them how to check for you, in case it happens again?”

The question shocks him to his core. He barely has the wherewithal to nod.

Logan’s hands are back on his skin, turning and pointing carefully. He can feel their eyes on him as he works. Janus gently undoes the top of Remus’s collar so they can make sure his neck is clear as well.

“Roman?”

Remus’s heart sinks.

“Roman, do you want to see how to—Roman, what are you doing?”

Remus peers nervously over his shoulder to see Roman standing in front of the pit. From the line of his shoulders, he can see how tense Roman is. His hands are shaking.

“...Roman?”

He turns. His face is deathly pale. His gaze finds Remus and he swallows heavily.

“…Re?”

“Roman?” Remus swallows. Is that what his voice sounds like? “Ro?”

“Were you…” Roman glances over his shoulder. “Did you…?”

Shame.

Shame bubbles up so fast it springs hot, guilty tears behind Remus’s eyes. He ignores the worried noises from the others as he slumps.

A truly wounded noise comes from in front of him as Roman barrels forward, knocking his brother flat on his ass and wrapping his arms so tightly around him that Remus gasps awake.

Warm. Real. Roman. Roman is here, Roman is safe, Roman cares about him, Roman is fucking here. He lets out a cry of his own and clings to his brother.

“Not one of them is gonna touch you,” Roman swears, his voice shaking, “you hear me? I’ll gut them myself. They’ll have to get through me before they can even touch you.”

“I know, Ro—I know—“

“Swear to me,” Roman whispers frantically, “tell me you know I would never have let them take you. Tell me you know I’d’ve torn that place apart just to get you back.”

“I know, Roman, I—I—“

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, Re, I can’t take it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re staying right here—“ Roman holds him tighter and it’s the good kind of sore—“right fucking here.”

Distantly, he hears Janus chuckle and there’s another warm swirl across his back. He looks up from the crook of Roman’s neck to see Logan settling in, reaching out to give them a hug. Janus sits behind him. Virgil and Patton grab blankets and join the pile.

It’s…it’s good.

“Listen to us,” Roman keeps whispering, “not them. They’re not gonna lay a hand on you. We got you, Remus, we’ll keep you.”

“Gonna keep me?”

“Always, Re.”

“R-Roman—“

“Let it out, Remus, come on. We’re not going anywhere.”

Remus cries.

Sometimes the world just fucking sucks.

But sometimes, as Patton ruffles his hair, as Virgil leans his head on his shoulder, as Janus rubs a hand across his tummy, as Logan starts talking very softly, as Roman holds him tight, sometimes it doesn’t.

General Taglist :@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @theaceofcrows @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#sanders sides #fic #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #remus sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #dragonbabbles #self harm #tw: self harm #tw self harm

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art-gx · 3 years

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Who Could Love a Liar?

(main blog @arc-gx)

ahhh this is a couple days later than it was supposed to be sorry but here's my gift for @sanderssidesgiftxchange!

@in-verity-in-sanity i had you for the secret santa so i did your request for roloceit with janus hurt/comfort (well, as close as i could with a drawing)

i hope you like it! sorry for the wait~

–drawing without the words and image id below the cut–

[Digital ID: A digital drawing of Sanders Sides characters Logan, Roman and Janus, in a modern fantasy human au, viewed from the side. Logan is wearing a light blue blouse with a medium length dark blue skirt, black leggings, and a blue bow. Their hair is a reddish brown with a pencil stuck in it. They are kneeling down with a worried expression, holding Janus' face. Roman is in a dark red sweater which loosely hangs to expose one shoulder, short denim shorts, white and red socks, and a golden headband with a crown on his dark brown and dyed red hair. He is hugging Janus from behind with a saddened expression on his face, with his legs curled up to his left. Janus is in between them, kneeling, with his head in his hands and tape over his mouth. He has on a yellow letterman jacket, black tee shirt, and grey ripped pants. His hair is light brown and snake scales cover the side of his face facing the frame. A black bowler hat is sitting on the ground next to Logan's leg, like it fell off Janus' head. The background is a gradient of blue to black and yellow to red, with yellow stars on the blue (left) side with Logan and yellow crowns on the red (right) side with Roman. The first image has the words "who could love a liar?" written over it, and the second is the same drawing without the words. End ID]

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bonesthebeloved · 4 years

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Loud talking, mushy thoughts

Trigger/squick warning: UNSYMPATHETIC VIRGIL, PATTON AND LOGAN, shouting (caps), Crying, dismissal of feelings, selfdoubt, mild violence (Remus knocks roman out) threatening of violence, mention of minor injury (very brief) manipulative behaviour (if I forgot anything please do let me know)

Summary: Roman goes to live with Remus and Deceit after being mistreated by his 'family' for so long.

(not beta read)

"WHY THE HELL IS YOUR BROTHER UNCONSCIOUS ON OUR COUCH REMUS?!"

"He was crying! I didn't know what else to do!"

"Knock everyone BUT HIM out maybe?"

A long pause, followed by Remus slowly widening his eyes in realisation. "Ohhhhhh."

Deceit let go of a frustrated sigh. Pinching the bridge of his nose and looking the still very much knocked out Prince messily displayed on their livingroom couch.

"Satan give me strength."

Roman was... Not having a good day. To put it lightly.

To put it not lightly would be saying that he was having a horrendous day and that everything that was able to go wrong, seemed to be doing just that.

He'd not been able to sleep the night before and, when looking in the mirror, had promptly decided that he'd rather not face the person on the other side and covered it up with a duvet that had needed a washing for a good few days now but that he had simply not gotten the time or energy to wash yet.

He'd gotten dressed and taken his first step on the stairs. And then his second one. And then his third.

By the seventh step he miscalculated and lost his balance, skipping over steps eight to fourteen and landing with a series of thuds and a surprised shout of pain at the very bottom.

When getting up, he noticed that all three other sides were in the room with him and staring. Virgil shrugging right as they made eyecontact and turning around again. Logan, rather dramatically, rolling his eyes and turning the page of the book he was reading and Patton, after taking a step towards him and seeming to think it over in his mind, shaking his head and returning to cleaning up three breakfast plates off the table.

They'd started, and evidently finished, eating breakfast without him.

He'd taken an apple out of the fridge and decided that would do for breakfast and, after wanting to settle down on the couch but being given a stern look from Logan which was so vocal he could almost hear it say 'don't you have work to do?' he retreated back to his room. To his little desk with empty coffeemug and too much paper in the bin, to work on his ideas.

That is, he would have done so. If he'd come up with even a single good one.

He thought he had! Oh, he'd had three beautifully worked out and handcrafted ideas for future projects in his hand when he'd gone downstairs again.

He thought he had, until he'd handed them to Logan who had looked over his black frames and had very slowly raised a single eyebrow as he read on.

He'd returned to his room with the three perfectly sculpt ideas punched into a muddy lumpy mush. A mush that would, as soon as he slammed the door shut just loud enough for it to send vibrations through the wooden flooring he was standing on, land in the bin next to the other mushy ideas that he hadn't even dared to show Logan.

It hadn't been a good day, that day. With Patton finally bringing up the wedding and questioning him about why I'm the world he'd wanted to go to the callback. He spoke like it was a police interrogation rather than a friendly discussion and Roman felt himself slowly move back on how chair until it was balancing on two legs only.

It hadn't been a good day because Virgil, as soon as he'd gotten wind of the conversation, began to talk to him so loudly Roman asked him to stop shouting. But Virgil said he wasn't shouting so he continued to very loudly talk and ask him why he was siding with Deceit. Why he was trusting that monster and why he was acting so self-absorbed lately. Patton went on to ask why he was being so selfish. The soft question hitting harder than all of Virgil's loud talking could ever do, leaving his self-image broken and bruised crying inside of him to stop, stop please stop!

It hadn't been a good day to put it lightly because now he was sitting in the livingroom, all of the others there but miles away and all of them sitting frozen. Unmoving and unmotivated to do so in the near future as Remus sat down next to him.

"What's wrong brother mine? Did somebody die? Did you accidentally drown your pet squirrel again?"

There was no again. There wasn't even a squirrel because that was very much not the reason for his being close to tears but Remus didn't know that. And Remus was trying to help in his own special way and his brother could apprechiate that. Did appreciate it very much infact.

But when he was sitting in the same room as the reasons for his being glum, with his brother poking the sore spots on his ego over and over again, the apprechiation lessened to something more resembling a stiff nod of acknowledgement.

"Did somebody hurt your feelings? Did Poor Pattycakes make you feel selfish again? He's still upset about you siding with double Dee's isn't he? Oh! Or maybe Logan said your ideas were stupid like he did to me! Is that it Roro?"

Roman wanted to say something. The something he wanted to say at the moment was a loud and repeated yes. But instead he sat silently. Head bowed and eyes sneakily on the other sides. They all acted like nothing was wrong. The documentary on the TV currently explaining what exactly bombs were filled with and how they filled them.

"Oh maybe Veve was being a big meanie again too! Did he shout at you? Oh I remember how loud his shouting could get. Your ears must hurt because of it, don't they Ro?"

The TV was explaining how the fuse was inserted and made to stay in place as Roman bawled his fists.

"Oh but maybe it's not only today right? Dee told me that they don't listen to you. Is that true Roro? Do the mean 'light sides' not listen to you? That must hurt a lot. I bet you're really doubting your purpose as a side right now aren't you? I bet you-"

And as the TV showed how the fuse was lit and the bomb exploded, Roman burst into tears.

The reactions were as he thought they'd be. Concern, from a small part of the room. And disgust and dismissal from the other 3/5th of it.

Remus had taken his hands off his brothers shoulder and arm like he'd suddenly become glowing hot. Brows knitted in confusion and mouth slightly open from the shock that his brothers sudden outburst had installed in him.

The other three, instead, acted very much like his brother wasn't fully breaking down on the other end of the couch.

Logan simply took the remote and turned up the volume of the TV so he could hear the commentators announce their next topic being how stained glass is manufactured and turning towards the TV with a nonchalance of a man knowing he's doing the right thing by turning the other cheek.

Patton let out a sigh and, after rolling his eyes dramatically, almost theatrically, he simply said 'stop being dramatic Roman. You're fine.' before getting up to refill his teacup.

Virgil scoffed at the crying Prince as if his tears were personally insulting him and just stared him down in the hopes that this tactic would shut him up.

But Roman didn't, shaking now, nose running and tears making the most quiet pat pat pat sound as they landed on his trousers, creating light grey stains on the pure white pants.

More comments like Patton's first one were thrown his way. Some half-heartedly thrown like an Un-enthusiastic kid in highschool. Some curved balled his way so hard it would leave bruises.

And slowly Remus began to panic.

He panicked over why this was happening. Panicked over why his brother's friends didn't seem to care at all. Simply tried to stifle him. Shut him up so he wouldn't be a disturbance in their otherwise seemingly uneventful day.

Panicked, because his brother too, was now muttering the words 'it's fine. I'm fine it's fine I'm fine I'm fineimfineimfineimfine-' over and over again like a broken record or a pray circle chant and Remus panicked.

He panicked so much that he shouted 'I'm leaving!' right into his brothers ear, making him flinch, before quickly running towards the door.

He paused with his hand still on the doorknob.

Because he realised this wasn't good. He realised something important that he didn't quite know of yet. Didn't quite grasp onto yet but he realised it. And it wasn't good news.

So he panicked. Summoning his mace and knocking his brother square on the head. Roman sitting straight up for a split second due to the shock and then passing out fully. Falling forward, face first into the carpet and tear streaks down his face slowly coming to a stop.

The room was dead silent, most of them frozen in shock, one of them frozen due to being unconscious, as Remus grabbed his brothers legs and lifted him, with a bit of effort, over his shoulders.

The room stayed dead silent when he straightened himself, looking around with eyes slightly too wide and lips still unparted.

"I-... See ya!" He said quickly, before sinking out and into the hallway leading to his safe place. The place he was safe. The one he needed to bring his brother who hadn't seemed so safe in his own safe place.

Deceit was so close to loosing his sanity that he might as well throw those last few braincells in the bin aswell, he thought, as he looked at the body of Romano creativity 'Princey' Sanders, messily sprawled out over his livingroom couch.

"Remus, would you come here for a second buddy?"

Remus nodded, getting up from where he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking at his brother laying there. Silently. Unmoving. Unconscious.

"Remus my dear. Would you please explain to mE WHAT HAPPENED?"

Remus tried to explain. Truly he did. But it's hard to explain when you still haven't quite gotten to realise what you realised. He knew it was important now. He knew it wasn't a positive thing too. It couldn't be, with Roman breaking down like that.

But Deceit hadn't slept well the previous night and, much like Roman, he hadn't had a good day. His was considerably less filled with humiliations and accusations. But he had spilled coffee over his favourite shirt and Remus had knocked over one of his cacti, smashing it's hand-painted pot so he was allowed to atleast mention it.

What followed was rather loud. Loud enough for Roman to stir in his un-wake and slowly start to wake up.

"WHY THE HELL IS YOUR BROTHER UNCONTIOUS ON OUR COUCH REMUS?!"

"He was crying! I didn't know what else to do!"

"Knock everyone BUT HIM out maybe?"

At Remus his noise of realisation Roman managed to crack an eye open. Finding he was laying on a rather soft couch in a rather dark room with rather loud company.

"Why was he crying then?" Deceit said, after letting go of another long sigh and trying to find a way to calm himself before he punched somebody, preferably Remus with how this conversation was going.

"I don't know! He looked like something was wrong and he wouldn't tell me what was wrong so I started guessing! The others acted like nothing was wrong though and that was weird."

Deceit sighed, took his hat of and flung it towards a corner of the room before combing his hands through his hair. Tugging at it once and facing Roman who was still laying on the couch.

"Roman I know you're awake. Why don't you tell me why you were crying and then I can decide if I need to kill either Remus or your precious family hm?"

Roman stayed silent as he slowly sat up straight. Fumbling with the cuffs on his sleeves, not meeting Deceit's eye.

Said side crouched down and said, in a much softer voice than Roman had ever heard him use (Remus did know it very well but as he didn't say we won't mention it) and softly called out for him.

"Hey, can you look at me please? We only want to help you Ro, I promise you that."

Roman nodded and, dropping the bravado he normally put on for a moment, he was truly being honest.

"Remus his guesses were... A bit too accurate. And I hadn't been having a great day and the others were just there acting like none of those things were true and I-" he cut himself off then, finding he'd choked up again. Deceit just reached out for him slowly. Hand hovering just moments away from touching his own and, after Roman nodded in response to the question if it was alright if he touched him, his hand was grabbed and thumbs ran over knuckles.

Remus sat down cross-legged again. Close but not too close. There but not too present.

He was slowly beginning to unwrap the thoughts he'd grasped then. And he didn't like his present one bit.

"Do you want to tell us what Remus said that was correct?" Deceit said and Roman was nodding as soon as the words had left his mouth. Desperate for comfort. Desperate to talk. For somebody to listen to him for once.

Desperate for the chance Deceit was giving him.

So Roman told them about his not too great day and about how he'd missed step seven on the stairs, showing then his bruised back and scrapped hands.

He told them about the apple and the mushy ideas in his bin and about how the documentary hadn't been his choice.

And then he kept talking.

He told them about how he'd been feeling for the last few months and how it hadn't been happy feelings. He told them about how mushy ideas had become more frequents and dismissal had been something he'd gotten used to.

He told them about not being heard and about lines being rewritten by others because his weren't good enough.

When the evening came they sat together on the floor infront of the couch. Eating parshly cold and parshly mushy noodles because they'd let them sit for too long as they talked and talked and didn't talk for a while before talking again.

And when Deceit offered that he could stay the night and every othernkugjt if he so pleased, Roman had said he'd sleep on the couch for the night.

And if he woke up in his own room the next morning, well, you wouldn't see him complaining.

And if said room had a door that led to a different livingroom than it had lead to for all of his life then he didn't mind.

He simply greeted his brother, trying to get used to being so close again. Trying to find a way to orbit around the same earth as he without clashing again.

And he simply thanked Deceit when he arrived at the table and saw three plates there and eggs and bread and orange juice and water and tea that had cooled down slightly.

They'd waited for him.

After they'd finished breakfast and cleaned up Remus very timidly asked if he liked where his room was now. And after Roman had told him that he liked it very much, he asked him a little less timidly if they could pay his family a visit.

The term family felt like a jacket that didn't quite fit when it was applied to the three sides but he'd nodded either way. And after they'd gotten all dressed up and Roman had stared at the mirror still covered with his old duvet wondering if he'd ever be able to face the man on the other side, they were off.

Roman walked towards their common room with a darkside on each side.

He'd never tell them why is ment this much to be able to walk in the middle and not on the side or behind them. But they seemed to know. And Deceit laid a hand on his shoulder for a brief second and gave him a tight-knit smile.

"Where have you been?!"

They stood in the middle of the common room, infront of the TV that was displaying a documentary on black holes on pause.

"Roman?" Remus said, looking at his brother closely. Watching a stop motion of microexpressions flicker over his face that got significantly less micro when Patton crossed his arms and, rather loudly, told him to 'just spit it out Roman!'

Deceit had understood though. And he stepped infront of the two brothers after Roman had given him a quiet confirmation that he was allowed to speak for him.

"We're taking Roman in. He's going to be living with us from now on."

"You're kidnapping him?!" Virgil said very loudly. But it wasn't shouting. Never shouting.

"No. We asked if he would like to and he agreed that it was the best choice. He's fully willing to and we've already moved his room."

"Why isn't he telling us himself then? The fact that he isn't making this more dramatic than it needs to be us suspicious. Don't you think so Logan? Of course you do."

Deceit's eyes flickered to Logan as Patton mentioned him. Seeing a flash of something like longing, of something like guilt, like begging him to tell Roman that he was sorry.

"You've broken him down enough for him to not want to. Now if you'll excuse us, -" he began, nodding once as the brothers began to leave. "- we only stopped by to announce the news to you so we'll be going." Roman was shaking with relief. "HOWEVER." And suddenly he was shaking with something very different.

"If I get even the slightest indication that EITHER or you do as much as GLANCE at him in a wrong way, I'll not be held responsible for how Remus might act to protect his brother."

Patton took a step back at that while Virgil simply snarled and gave Deceit the bird.

Logan sat silently. Very very quietly in the same place he'd been sitting for the entire time they had been there. Looking down at his knees.

"Tasteful Virge. Very very charming. And Logan-" The logical traits head snapped up to meet Deceit's eye. Gaze wandering towards Roman for a moment to determine that he was indeed watching him intendly.

"-if there's anything you wish to talk about or apoligise for, you're welcome to come by sometime. Make sure you shut the door though. We wouldn't want pests getting in."

The last part was growled towards the other two sides and Remus cackled in delight at the remark as he grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

As soon as they were far enough away Deceit turned to Roman who had been clutching his brothers arm rather tightly for the entirety of the conversation.

"Are you alright Roman?"

Roman looked up then. Tears staining his cheeks but a smile Deceit found was very much a genuine one on his face as he looked at him.

"I'm not. But I think I will be."

AN: Ceno, if you're reading this, thank you for ranting with me about unsympathetic Virgil and Patton and giving me this story idea. You're great and the best unoffical sister I could have wished for.

Tags: @purp-man @crazycookie13o @deceitifullies101 @sapphire-knight @ragingdumpsterfiremess @chronophobica @lance-alt @mylifeisadeceit @itriedandimtired @unsympatheticpatton @unsympa-side-ic

(if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist simply send me an ask/message)

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that-spider-fan-over-there · 3 years

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Random TS (Sides/CT/Shorts) Headcanons:

Logan is the one that cleans the house, for the most part. Because after a day of scheduling with Thomas, he sank out and found Patton and Roman, and the pre-upgrade Mind Palace covered in confetti, cheese, paint and whipped cream. They help, of course, but Logan has to keep them in the same room. Four feet apart because they're all gay.

Roman is the one that cooks. You'd think it'd be Patton, but he committed arson by accident. Roman found out he could after his 16th b-day, and he made a Sleeping Beauty style cake. And he didn't stop there. The next day, everyone walked on a kitchen filled with food. Everyone stole some, no exceptions, much to Roman's dismay. They had leftovers for months. Remus stayed with the spoiled food.

Patton is the only one that can drive. Because The Others are chaotic neutral, and the rest of Core Four are perfectionists, he took it upon himself to get in the car and learn how to drive, or else no one would be getting nowhere. That being said, everyone checks out for spiders before Pat drives. Because this is the same Patton who is scared of Spider Man, and it's the same Thomas that jumped out of a moving car for a Vine.

Virgil is the proud owner of two spiders. No one knows where he got them, or where they came from, but they usually stay hidden in his room to add creep factor, and because Patton. The spiders are usually separated, so everyone assumes Virgil has only one. One is white-violet, and the other is black-violet.

Janus convinced everyone that he could only speak in lies for at least, three years. It would've lasted longer, but after Remus hit him with a chair when he was 14 and made him fall (and break an arm), he basically gave himself away through whining. And that's why Janus pushes people down the stairs. Because pettiness.

Remus is (technically) the younger twin. There wasn't a split, but he and Roman thought that since Thomas was pretty imaginative, he needed two Sides for creativity. They got along just fine. Then Roman grew the moral compass, Remus started letting himself loose, eventually losing threads of sanity, one of the Sides got hurt, and that caused an one-sided rift between them.

@macjaket knows this one, I thought about adding some stuff: I think the next side is gonna be called Marcus, and he'd have an orange beanie and scarf, fingerless black/orange gloves, ripped jeans and a black sleeveless shirt, his logo being something fire-related. I'd think he'd be Impulse, Anger, or Apathy? Personality-wise, I think he'd be just tempered, snarky and stubborn (If I get something right, I'm fangirling and bringing this post back to update myself and make a new hc).

Remy doesn't like Anxiety (Andy/Virgil, take your pick) because one time, Thomas got an anxiety attack and managed to mess up even further his sleep cycle. He took revenge by making Thomas drink coffee, and only managed to make him more insomniac and anxious, and no one was happy. Knows that he messed that one up, but won't apologize to Anx.

Emile has a plastic space decorated hammer and carries with him everywhere he goes. Somehow, you can't tell until he takes it out. It's so huge, you'd be questioning how didn't you notice. Takes everyone a long while to figure it out how it works, though, much to Emile's frustration.

#the spider rants #Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Sanders Shorts #Cartoon Therapy

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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 4 years

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The Baker and The Prince (Pt.9)

-------------------------

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," said Remy, pulling a sword from its sheath before facing the dragon. Virgil had latched himself to the nearest wall, and he didn't seem to plan on getting out any time soon.

"Dragons are highly intelligent creatures Remy, we might be able to talk our way out of this," said Emile, though his hand was still poised and ready over a sword.

"You dare challenge us?" one of the dragons had lifted its head to face them, its scales were a mix of yellow, white, purple, and black, with patterns of red snaking their way along its body.

"They think we're cowards dont they! Think we cant fight!" said another dragon, this one with scales that seemed to shift from black to a nauseating neon green color.

"Our master will be most displeased if we let them in," this dragon had pink and blue gradient scales, and a tiara hanging from one of its horns.

"Enough talk, dragons! Do you have civility or are you going to fight us and lose!" Remy called, drawing his sword. A dragon with purple scales and a blue underbelly made it's way to the front.

"We do not wish to fight, state your name and purpose here and perhaps we may let you in," it said.

"Dont be stupid, look inside the carriage, that's them," said another dragon with white, blue, and pink scales. This one was missing an eye, though a glass one seemed to have taken its place, and it seemed to be boaring through the carriage itself.

There was one dragon who hadnt taken its eyes off them, but hadnt spoken, the smallest of the group, with midnight blue scales and a white and tan underbelly, and scales around its eyes like glasses.

"They're here to see him," said the tiny dragon.

"Should we let them in?" said the purple and blue dragon.

"Maybe they can help us. . ." the black-green and pink-blue dragons spoke in unison. The six dragons exchanged looks before separating the trees. Remy and Emile jumped back into the carriage just as it had started to move.

Soon enough they happened upon a dimly lit path, which led them to a large castle made of black and red stone, with red banners that had fractured black and gold crowns scattered across them.

Well done you finally found me! I'll have to have a little chat with my pets about letting you in so easily though Virgil winced. The other inhabitants of the carriage looked at him with worry, but he merely shrugged and waved them off. They each got out of the carriage, Logan in Remus' arms, and the drawbridge to the castle went down.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" said Roman, taking Virgil's hand in his own.

"I'm absolutely sure," Virgil said, the fear in his eyes replaced with determination. The group walked into the castle, with Remy and Emile at the front, and Roman and Remus hanging back, their own swords drawn and pointed to their sides.

The castle was much larger than first expected. There were so many rooms they were afraid they'd get lost.

After hours of wondering they came across a dining hall, with one long table, and a figure sitting at the end.

"Welcome! Welcome! You finally found me!" Presley's teeth glinted in the candlelight.

"What did you do to my boyfriend," Roman said, squeezing Virgil's hand and pointing his sword towards Presley.

"Like I said, this is all on you dear brother, if you hadnt gotten me thrown out, your little pastry boy wouldnt be so upset," he let loose a laugh that sent chills down Virgil's spine.

"But if you want to get your sanity back, then I just need one thing," the candles snuffed themselves out, and the floor opened up beneath the group.

----------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@official-lucifers-child / @mickey-of-lucifer

@oceanart123

@youtuberswithalex

@spooky-scary-virgil

@misunderstoodshadowling

@i-need-you-buddy

@somehow-i-got-an-account

@escalatingtoofast

@thecolorfulolive

@hedgiehoggles

#cori writes #baker au #ts patton #ts virgil #ts logan #ts remus #ts roman #ts emile #ts remy #sympathetic roman #sympathetic virgil #sympathetic remus #sympathetic patton #sympathetic logan #sympathetic light sides #sympathetic dark sides #romantic prinxiety #prinxiety

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miguel-manbemel · 4 years

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Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 42: Beware the Paladin Part 2: The Downfall

Second part of the story I started two weeks ago. There’s not much I’d wish to add that I didn’t say already in the introduction of part 1, so I leave you with the story. I hope you enjoy it and until next time with part 3 of the story.

SYNOPSIS: Thomas’ sanity is completely compromised and Joan has difficulties to rein Thomas in, so they leave him with Kenny and Talyn to enter the Mind Palace and see if they can be of help in the chase of the Paladin, who is destroying room after room in the Mind Palace, further deteriorating Thomas’ condition.

WARNINGS: Depiction of a mental illness. Romantic prinxiety, dukeceit and logicality. Angst. Suicide mentions.

EPISODE INDEX

[there’s a sign reading “In the previous episode…” Then images from the previous episode are shown while Joan’s voice is heard narrating]

JOAN-NARRATOR: Something’s happening to Thomas and we still don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s affecting Roman, or maybe Roman is affecting Thomas, or maybe they both affect each other at the same time, I don’t know. The point is that Roman’s sickness caused by Thomas’ lack of hope has gone worse over time, to the point where not even the pills of hope Thomas unconsciously generates for him from the little moments of happiness he can get, work for too long. Remus, seeing how badly affected his brother was, gave him one pill too much, and that triggered Roman’s transformation into the Paladin, who after running away, beat up Logan and rendered him unconscious. Then he started wreaking havoc, destroying rooms all over the Mind Palace. Meanwhile, in the real world, Thomas started feeling the effects of the Paladin’s rampage, by losing his mind completely and entering a state of delusional euphoria. He thinks that he can only reach stardom by jumping to the stars… literally from a high branch on a tree next to his house. Thank goodness that Talyn, Kenny and I managed to convince him to come back down by playing along with his delusion and making him believe that the producers he hoped to find in the stars were actually in his apartment, waiting for him to sign the contract of his life. Now he’s here, playing video games while he waits for the producers to come out of the bathroom, or that’s what we told him. I locked the door and kept the key so he can't escape and injure himself or something worse. I hope this charade can buy the Sides enough time to take care of the Paladin and, I hope, bring Thomas’ sanity back before he gets out of control again.

[intro sequence]

[Thomas is still playing Kingdom Hearts while Joan, Talyn and Kenny watch him]

THOMAS: They’re taking a bit long, aren’t they? When are the producers gonna come out of the bathroom?

JOAN: Uh… please, be patient, Thomas. You know how badly can spicy food affect some people. You don’t want them to get mad at you because you hurried them, right?

THOMAS: [beat, pausing the game] Are you sure they’re in the bathroom at all? Are you sure they’re in this house at all?

JOAN: Of course! Why do you ask?

THOMAS: Because producers don’t use other people’s bathrooms! That’s not professional! Besides, Sokka has just told me that something’s wrong here.

JOAN: Sokka’s told you…?

THOMAS: Have you been lying to me, Joan?

JOAN: What?

THOMAS: [increasingly angry] You’ve been lying to me, admit it! You lied to me because you’re jealous of my achievement and you want to steal it away from me! F… [bleep] CK!

[Thomas furiously throws the controller aiming at the TV, but misses it, though the controller gets shattered in pieces. Then he stands up in a fit of anger. Joan, Talyn and Kenny also stand up]

THOMAS: [yelling] I thought you were by my side, that you would be happy for what I had accomplished! But you are just one of those who always get in my way, who won’t let me move forward in my dreams! But I won’t let you get away with this!

[starts running to the door. Kenny and Talyn grab him]

THOMAS: [yelling] You too!? Let me go! No one’s gonna prevent me to fulfill my dreams! No one! Let me go! I need to jump! I need to jump!

JOAN: [yelling] Thomas, sit down! Now! You can’t get out of the house, I have hidden the key and we won’t give it to you until you calm yourself! And you’ll never get to the producers in time if you don’t! [yelling as loud as their lungs allow them, their voice, on the verge of screech, even cracks] So SIT DOWN!!!

[Thomas looks at everyone with a face of anger. Then he sits down]

THOMAS: How could you betray me like this? I thought you were my friend.

JOAN: [clearing their throat as they clearly hurt it in the last yell] And I’m your friend, the best friend you could ever ask for. That’s why I need you to sit down here. You’re gonna thank me later, even if you don’t understand right now. [to Kenny and Talyn] Guys, do you think you’ll be able to handle him on your own?

KENNY: Yes, I think so, why?

JOAN: I’m going back to the Mind Palace. I wanna check how things are going in there.

THOMAS: What? No, I won’t let you in my Mind Palace! You’re not welcome there anymore! No!

KENNY: Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him.

JOAN: All right, then. Talyn, if something happens that would need my attention, you can enter the Mind Palace too. Get in to warn me, but only if there’s a crisis, okay? The Mind Palace is not a safe place with the Paladin on the loose.

TALYN: The Paladin? Who’s the Paladin?

JOAN: There’s no time now. I’ll explain later, when all of this is over, I hope soon.

TALYN: Okay, Joan. Be careful.

JOAN: I will. Well, if I want news about Roman, the best is to go to his room… Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can.

[Joan concentrates, then sinks down. Then they rise up in Roman’s room. Chris is there on the couch]

JOAN: Hi, Chris.

CHRIS: Hi, Joan.

JOAN: Any news about Roman?

CHRIS: No, not yet. I’m so worried about my father. Any news from the outer world?

JOAN: Yes, but they’re not good. Thomas has lost his mind. He’s gone completely crazy, and of course, this thing about the Paladin must be the cause.

CHRIS: Oh, no…

JOAN: Maybe if Logan could give him some common sense, he could come back to normal. Is he still here?

CHRIS: Yes, he’s upstairs in my father’s bed. Remus is with him. But he still hasn’t woken up.

JOAN: This is an emergency… no, this is a crisis, a literal mental crisis. We need Logan to wake up so he can guide us. There has to be a way.

CHRIS: The key is in the Paladin, somehow. Before passing out Logan said he wouldn’t wake up until the Paladin was gone. The rest of the Sides, Patton, Ian, Janus and Virgil, are looking for him. But he’s fast as heck. He goes to one room, turns it into a mess and then leaves, before they can catch him. It’s like trying to catch a thunderbolt.

JOAN: And the more rooms he destroys, the more Thomas’ sanity deteriorates… Well, I hope they can catch him. Otherwise, Thomas is doomed. You didn’t mention Remus. Why doesn’t he join the chase?

CHRIS: He’s taking care of Logan. Dad didn’t want him around. He blames him for everything. He was the one who gave Remus the extra pill that started all this mess, you know? But I don’t judge him harshly for that. He only did what he thought it would be best for Roman, like we all try to do. It’s his brother and he loves him. He saw him suffering and he just wanted his suffering to end. He didn’t have any ill will. He just made a mistake, a terrible, dangerous mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

JOAN: Mistake or not, that doesn’t matter. I do think Remus should join the chase. Among all the Sides, he’s the most prepared to deal with that Paladin, I think.

CHRIS: I agree, but I don’t know what to tell him. Remus is devastated by guilt, he’s not himself anymore. It’s like he’s losing his will to do anything at all.

JOAN: I think I’ll go check on him. I haven’t had many chances to speak to him, but maybe I can get to him.

CHRIS: If you did, I’d be very grateful. Thank you, Joan.

JOAN: I’ll go, then.

[Joan goes upstairs and enters the bedroom. There he finds Remus next to Logan, still unconscious in bed. Remus has cleaned all of Logan’s wounds the best he could and summoned brand-new glasses and necktie, so he doesn’t look as bad as before, but he’s still bruised everywhere, though the worst wounds have been covered by Remus with bandages]

REMUS: Oh, hi, Joan.

JOAN: Hello, Remus. How is Logan doing?

REMUS: See your yourself. I’m doing my best to take care of him, so he could, maybe, wake up sooner, but he still hasn’t given any sign of life. I hope he can get over this and wake up. I have many wrongdoings in my life of which I don’t feel sorry at all, but this… I wouldn’t forgive myself if Logan didn’t wake up. Or if something happened to Roman because of me. They still haven’t caught him, the Paladin I mean, right?

JOAN: No, they haven’t yet… Why don’t you go help them?

REMUS: I can’t. Virgil forbade me to do so. I think he hates me. It wouldn’t be the first time, anyway, but this time he has a valid reason and it breaks my heart.

JOAN: Still, I think you should join the chase. I understand Virgil, but this goes beyond Roman or him. Thomas’ mental health is endangered if the Paladin is not contained. He’s already lost his sanity and could hurt himself if we don’t do something.

REMUS: That too? Just what I needed. I really want to help, to fix the mistake I made, but Virgil…

JOAN: Virgil will have to understand. At this point, Thomas is more important than his feelings. If you want to fix things, chase the Paladin, catch him and put him in a safe place until the pill’s effects wear off. That’s the only way you can redeem yourself, and you would save Thomas at the same time.

REMUS: But…

JOAN: [yelling] Oh, for f… [bleep] ‘s sake, Remus! I thought you always did whatever you wanted whenever it pleased you! Are you trying to tell me that it wouldn’t please you to join the chase? Then what are you still doing here? Thomas and Roman need you! Help save them, now!

[Remus shows a face of determination]

REMUS: You’re right. They need me, I can’t let them down! But who will stay with Logan?

CHRIS: [entering the room leaning on his crotches] I will, Remus. And if it serves for something, you have my permission to save my father. My dad will understand in time, you’ll see.

JOAN: And I’ll stay with him so that he’s not alone if the Paladin shows up here. Don’t worry, Remus. Logan is in safe hands.

REMUS: Okay. If the Paladin shows up here, summon me at once, got it?

JOAN: Got it. Now, go.

[Remus sinks down. Meanwhile, Virgil and the others are looking for the Paladin everywhere in the Mind Palace. They only find the traces of destruction he’s leaving behind]

VIRGIL: This is so wrong… This is all so wrong. I’m starting to get concerned about Thomas’ sanity at this point. This is literally his mind, and it’s getting destroyed bit by bit.

[The Paladin appears in front of them with a maniac grin]

PALADIN: As if you hadn’t done worse things than me against Thomas’ mental health, Emo Nightmare.

VIRGIL: There he is! Get him!

[The Paladin pulls out a sword with a mischievous, evil laughter. He hits the ground with the sword, with all his might and an earthquake happens that makes everyone fall down. He cackles evilly]

PALADIN: Just look at all of yourselves. You’re so pathetic. You’re a failure as Sides and don’t deserve to be called as such! Luckily for Thomas, I’m gonna fix this once and for all, by getting rid of all of you, so that no more hinders block Thomas’ way to glory! I already took care of Logan. You all are next! And I’ll start with you, Emo Nightmare!

VIRGIL: Stop calling me like that, Paladin!

PALADIN: Why? That’s who you are, or that’s what I get from Roman’s memories. That’s who you’ve always been and forever will be in Roman’s eyes. Always a hinder for Thomas’ pursue of his hopes and dreams. He’s always hated you a bit because of that, and frankly, I don’t blame him.

VIRGIL: You… You’re lying! You’re obviously lying! Roman loves me!

PALADIN: Oh, love and hate can coexist, you know? I won’t deny that you look cute as a button, that’s why he thinks he loves you, but he could never love you completely. Because every time you get into action, you place Thomas one step back from his dreams. And he can’t stand it. You’re making Roman’s life miserable in the long term, and in his mind he puts all the blame on you. Now he’s blinded by his attraction to you, but when his “love” for you wears off, and it will, don’t doubt it, he’ll hold everything you’ve done to Thomas against you, and he’ll leave you, and he’ll fight against you and everything you represent, like you used to fight when you were a Dark Side, because in the end his love for Thomas is stronger than his love for you or anyone else… I can see in your eyes that you still don’t believe me. [to Janus] Janus, you catch liars from miles away. You know very well I’m saying the truth here.

[Janus looks at the Paladin with a mixed face of anger and sadness]

VIRGIL: [smirks to Janus] He’s lying, right? [concerned when Janus doesn’t speak] Janus… Tell me he’s lying! [now yelling, scared] Tell me that Roman doesn’t feel that about me! Tell me!

[Janus looks at Virgil. A tear falls down his snake eye when he speaks]

JANUS: [trembling voice] He’s… lying…

[Virgil immediately understands that Janus is the one who’s lying now and that the Paladin is saying the truth. He shows a face of shock and despair, but he doesn’t shed a tear]

PALADIN: Oh, but don’t worry about it, emo. He won’t have time to get to that point in your relationship… [switching to a threatening cold voice] because I’m gonna make him a widower right at this moment!

[The Paladin starts approaching Virgil sword in hand while Virgil is too stunned to react. Then, Remus rises up between them]

REMUS: That’s what you think, usurper! Don’t you dare taking another step towards my brother-in-law!

[The Paladin looks at Remus with a glance of disdain]

PALADIN: Oh, look, my liberator. Did you enjoy the way I gave you my thanks, with my foot on your face and all?

REMUS: [grins, pulling out his mace] As a matter of fact, I really enjoyed it! Don’t you have any more of these in store, please? But this time don’t render me unconscious. I want to enjoy the pleasure of the pain on my face and my body! It was such a delightful way of waking up moments later!

PALADIN: If you want another dose of that, I can give it to you whenever you want!

REMUS: I’ll be glad, but I have a better idea! Why don’t we share the pain this time? I’d love to give you back some of the pleasure you’ve given to me, Paladin! And the pain that my little friend [points at his mace] can inflict is the best of the best, you’re gonna love it. [his grin suddenly disappears and is replaced by a ferocious look] There’s only room for one kinky, crazy Creativity in this Mind Palace, you know?

PALADIN: [rising his sword] Then I’ll be glad to take your place… Dooky.

[Remus and the Paladin start fighting. Right from the start, it’s clear that it’s not gonna be a fair fight. The Paladin tries all sorts of tricks against Remus, but Remus is just as a dirty fighter as the Paladin and blocks them all, using also dirty tricks of his own against the Paladin. The others watch the scene]

JANUS: Are you okay, Virge?

VIRGIL: [just looking at the fight, without looking at Janus] This looks so similar to that first fight they had in Remus’ castle. It’s clear that inside of that crazy Paladin… Roman and his fighting technique are still there, somewhere. He’s still Roman and he still needs our help. I don’t have time now to react to what has just happened, not until he’s safe.

JANUS: Okay…

[The battle goes on, until the Paladin suddenly grins malevolently. Before anyone can see through his plan, the Paladin suddenly attacks Janus with his sword and hits him heavily on the head. Janus, who didn’t see him coming, doesn’t even have time to groan and quickly falls down unconscious. Virgil watches in horrified shock, like Patton and Ian. Remus needs a couple of seconds to react over seeing Janus knocked out on the floor, while a little stream of blood falls from his crushed bowler hat]

REMUS: [suddenly screeching] JANUUUUS! YOU F… [bleep] … NG SON OF A B… [bleep] , WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?

[Remus goes into Berserk mode and starts attacking the Paladin with an increased strength. But the attacks are more chaotic and more easily avoidable. That continues for a short time until Remus makes a mistake and the Paladin overthrows him and makes him fall. Before he can stand up, the Paladin points at Remus’ throat with his sword]

PALADIN: I win this fight!

[Remus yells a war cry of pure wrath and despair]

VIRGIL: Remus!

REMUS: Do it already! You bas… [bleep] ! Do you think I’m afraid of you!? Do it if you have the guts! [screeching] DO IIIT!

PALADIN: If you insist…

[The Paladin rises his sword, ready to give Remus the coup de grace, while the others are too stunned and horrified to react. But before the Paladin can do it, something happens. He suddenly drops his sword, which vanishes after hitting the ground, and shows a face of shock, joined with a sudden feel of dizziness]

PALADIN: What is happening? No… the pill… the effect is wearing off… I need another one! No!

[The Paladin doesn’t say any more words. He just collapses on the floor. In a matter of seconds, the sash on his suit changes from crimson to bright red and all the symptoms of the illness return to his appearance, including the paleness, the red cheeks and the black eye bags, only that now his expression is worse than ever, both because of the illness and because of his guilt]

REMUS: [getting up and approaching him] Roman? Is that you?

[Roman looks at Remus. His eyes are full of tears]

ROMAN: [weak, almost whining voice] I’m sorry, Remus… I’m sorry, guys… I saw everything happen… but I couldn’t do anything… the Paladin controlled my body… Virgil, I’m sorry… I…

[Virgil approaches Roman. His face couldn’t be more serious]

VIRGIL: That doesn’t matter right now. Now we need to take you to your room, to safety.

ROMAN: Janus… How is Janus? Tell me I didn’t kill him, please…

IAN: [checking him] He’s alive. You didn’t hit him with the sharp edge of your sword. You just knocked him out. I’ll take care of him. You, guys, get Roman to his room.

ROMAN: Thank God… Thank God…

[Remus and Virgil grab Roman, then they and Patton sink down and rise up in Roman’s bedroom]

JOAN: We knew you were coming, guys.

PATTON: You knew? How?

JOAN: Logan has just opened his eyes, look.

PATTON: Logan! Are you okay?

LOGAN: Everything hurts… and I can’t move… but I think I can survive… sort of…

[Patton hugs Logan and kisses him]

LOGAN: Watch out, Pat, I have just said that everything hurts… be more gentle, please.

PATTON: I’m sorry… I was so worried about you…

LOGAN: I can see you have brought Roman here and the Paladin is gone… That’s great… however, this isn’t over yet…

REMUS: What do you mean? You said that when the effect of the pill wore off, he would return back to normal, and it happened so. What do we need to be afraid of?

LOGAN: Joan, I advise you to go back to the real world to check on Thomas.

JOAN: If the Paladin is gone, he should be back to normal, right?

LOGAN: The Paladin’s arrival was a point of no return in Thomas’ mind. He will never be the same again, and Roman is gonna be permanently on the verge of danger, and with him Thomas.

JOAN: You’re scaring me, Logan. What do you mean?

LOGAN: Have you ever heard about bipolar disorder?

JOAN: As a matter of fact, yes. I have a friend who has it… Do you mean that…?

LOGAN: Yes. Thomas has bipolar disorder.

JOAN: Just like that? Like someone getting the flu, he’s contracted bipolar disorder? It doesn’t work like that, right?

LOGAN: Of course not. That disorder has always been asleep in Thomas’ mind. Some people feel the symptoms of the disorder very early in their lives. Others are well into adulthood, even in their fifties or sixties, when they start feeling them. Some start when they go through some kind of specially stressful situation, like…

JOAN: …like this pandemic and confinement. That’s what started the chain reaction, right?

LOGAN: Those pills of hope that Thomas unconsciously generated and Roman took were only a deterrent, but eventually they turned into delusion. Now they’re gonna be useless. Roman can never take those pills again, or the Paladin would return and finish what he couldn’t finish now. I’m sorry, Roman.

ROMAN: I understand. I’m not taking those pills again, not even if I’m dying. I’d rather die than ever be the Paladin again… it was horrible.

VIRGIL: What are exactly the symptoms of… bipolar disorder?

LOGAN: Bipolar disorder, which used to be called in the past manic-depressive disorder, even though that’s name is totally phased out, is a mental disorder that affects the mood. It’s called bipolar because it makes the mind swing through both the polar opposites of mood. There are episodes of euphoria and mania, where the person thinks they can do anything in a delusional way… and there are episodes of deep depression where the person loses all the will to live. If not put under control, the person swings between these two moods until they lose their life, either because of doing something crazy during mania that proves to be fatal, or because, during some bad episode of depression, they can’t resist the sadness and despair and… take their own life as a result.

VIRGIL: Is… Is Thomas going to end like that, then? There’s no solution?

LOGAN: Don’t worry, Virgil, even if it’s your job. Even though bipolar disorder is a chronic illness which doesn’t have a proper cure, nowadays, there are effective treatments. Thomas may occasionally have these episodes of mania and depression, but if he gets psychiatric supervision, takes his medication as prescribed and follows healthy habits that contribute to keep his mood balanced, he can and will have a very normal and productive life. There are lots of people who live a normal life having the disorder. Even among famous people, you’d be surprised of how many of them have or had bipolar disorder: Catherine Zeta-Jones, Carrie Fisher, Demi Lovato, Frank Sinatra, Mariah Carey, Sting, Curt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix… just to name a few. Yes, some of them have or had complicated lives and some of them sadly didn’t end well, but many of them managed or still manage to have a perfectly normal and successful life, and Thomas can have it too. Of course, he’ll need to see a psychiatrist to start treatment as soon as possible. He’ll need hospitalization to put his emotions under control, maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks. That’s why I want you, Joan to take care of him now. Take care of him and take him to a psychiatrist. They’ll know what to do next.

[Talyn rises up]

TALYN: Here you are, Joan!

JOAN: Talyn, what are you doing here? Is something wrong with Thomas?

TALYN: I think so. Suddenly he stopped talking delusionally and instead he started crying like a baby, mumbling that nothing makes sense anymore. He’s now lying on the couch, on fetal position, like a hopeless baby.

JOAN: Is it normal for the mood swings to be so fast, Logan?

LOGAN: There are cases, although I suspect Thomas’ special condition as an owner of a Mind Palace may be an accelerator of the swings, I suppose.

JOAN: Okay, then there’s no more time to waste, Thomas needs help. Will you, guys, be okay?

VIRGIL: We’ll be okay, Joan, don’t worry. Go take care of Thomas.

JOAN: Okay. See ya, guys.

[Joan and Talyn sink down]

ROMAN: But I don’t understand… why am I the only one affected by that… bipolar disorder?

LOGAN: Well, Roman, you are Thomas’ hopes and dreams. It’s only logical that you are the most affected by the disorder. During mania, your dreams heighten to unhealthy levels, that’s when the Paladin shows up. Then during depression, your levels of hope drop down, and that’s when you get sick, like you are now.

ROMAN: And I’m feeling so bad… even worse than before… I just want this to end…

LOGAN: Be strong, Roman. When Thomas starts getting treatment, you’ll get back to normal, you’ll see.

ROMAN: I hope so, Logan. I hope so…

VIRGIL: I’ll take care of you while you’re feeling sick.

ROMAN: Thank you, Virgil. I love you.

VIRGIL: [cold voice] Don’t mention. It’s my duty as your husband, Roman.

LOGAN: And I should be going to my own bedroom, Roman needs his own bed, obviously. Could you help me, Patton? I can barely move, so I’m not of much use for Thomas, logically speaking. You know that logic is always damaged in this kind of disorders. Hope you guys can cope without my help for some time.

PATTON: Okay, I got you, don’t worry.

VIRGIL: Thanks for all your help, guys. Take care, Logan.

[Patton and Logan sink down]

REMUS: If you don’t mind, I’m gonna check on Janus. I’m too worried about him.

ROMAN: Of course, Remus. I hope he’s all right too, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I… Thanks again for your help. If it wasn’t for you distracting me, I don’t know what I could have done to the Mind Palace or… to Virgil.

REMUS: Anytime, brother.

VIRGIL: And I also apologize for being so rude to you, Remus. I know you didn’t mean to cause trouble and you only cared about Roman. It was the fear what made me speak to you like that. I’m sorry for everything I said to you. I didn’t mean it, I promise.

REMUS: It’s okay, Virgil, I can handle it. [puts his hand on Virgil’s shoulder] But I really appreciate the apology, and I apologize too for the mess I have caused.

VIRGIL: It’s okay. According to Logan, this was bound to happen sooner or later anyway.

REMUS: Bye, guys. [sinks down] Get well soon, brother.

ROMAN: Thanks, Remus…

[a sign reads “To be continued, guys, gals and non binary pals”]

[end card]

[Virgil helps Roman get into bed. Then summons Roman’s pajama in place of his prince suit. He’s still serious all the time, not saying a word]

ROMAN: Uh… Chris… Do you feel good enough to make some ramen for dinner, for all of us?

CHRIS: But I can just summon the ra…

ROMAN: [giving a dirty look to Chris] It would be better if you just went to the kitchen and took your time to make the ramen, please? [the last word he says it giving a significant look at Virgil, then at the door]

CHRIS: [understanding] Oh… of course, father. [getting out of the bedroom with his crotches] I’ll go make it right now.

[Chris closes the door behind him. Virgil looks at Roman with the same serious face]

ROMAN: Virgil I…

VIRGIL: [with a sharp tone] I don’t need you to apologize, Roman.

ROMAN: But I do, because I have hurt you.

VIRGIL: You weren’t yourself. You would have never said those things to me if you had been in your normal state. If it helps you feel better, I forgive you.

ROMAN: Thanks, Virgil. It means a lot to me… But are you okay?

VIRGIL: [same sharp tone] What do you think? It’s not exactly the best for someone’s mood to find out that your husband… that you genuinely think that I’m bad for Thomas and you hate the way I am.

ROMAN: I didn’t say that, I…

VIRGIL: But you think it. Janus confirmed that, as the Paladin, you weren’t lying. You really hate who I am and what I do. What I don’t get then is… why did you marry me, Roman? If you don’t like how I am, why did you marry me?

ROMAN: Because I love you Virgil. My love for you is real.

VIRGIL: Is it though?

ROMAN: What do you mean? Of course it’s real! You are the one I love the most in my life! You and Chris, and Thomas, of course, are in different ways the men of my life!

VIRGIL: I don’t know… Since you’ve hidden your real feelings about me in that sense… I really don’t know if I can trust you anymore.

ROMAN: That hurts me, Virgil. It really hurts me.

VIRGIL: Not as much as me saying it, you can bet. Because I still love you more than anything. Like the first time I confessed my feelings to you, I still love you more than I love myself, and I would still give my live for you if you asked me. I already did once, in case you’ve forgotten. But now… [looking at Roman with a face of huge sadness and disappointment] I don’t know if you would do the same for me and the doubt feels like having a knife stuck in my stomach…

ROMAN: Virgil, I…

VIRGIL: I’m gonna go help Chris make the ramen, if you don’t mind. We’ll bring it to you when it’s ready. See ya later, Roman.

[Virgil gets out of Roman’s room and closes the door behind him. Roman starts silently crying when he hears muffled sobbing on the other Side of the door, Virgil’s sobbing]

9 notes · View notes

eevee-eclair · 4 years

Text

Here’s the Race AU story! Sorry it’s late!

Race Day

Written by EeveeEcliar

TW: Mentioned broken bones (if I missed something tell me!)

Random Side Note: This is based mostly (bc I twisted it to make it more exciting) on a true story. Also, there is some not-so-subtle Intruality, but that’s probably the best part.

-----

Patton had been expecting to spend the night with Virgil at home while Roman and Logan went to the race track to watch Remus race. But no. Life had other plans.

Patton knew Virgil wanted to go, and he kept telling him he could go if he wanted, but he refused to leave him alone with a broken arm. As if Patton couldn’t survive without him.

“Virge, I’m fine!” Patton insisted the Friday morning of the race.

“I’m not leaving you,” he snapped.

“Oh, lighten up, Moaning Myrtle!” Roman cried from the other room. “What if you both go?” he suggested.

“I think that’s a splendid idea, Roman,” Logan said, walking out of the bathroom. Instead of his usual black polo and blue tie with dark jeans, he wore lighter jeans, no tie, and a dirty brown shirt of Remus’. “Patton, trust us, it may be loud, but it’s quite exciting.”

“That’s a great idea!” Patton said with false excitement and a fake smile. “I’d love to go!”

“Then it’s settled, we’re all going!” Roman announced, then he looked at the clock and gasped. “By the glass slipper of Cinderela! We’re late!” he whined. “Quick, Logan, we gotta go!”

“I told you to watch the clock!” he scolded, running to grab his jacket off the hook.

“I forgot!” Roman yelled back. “Quick, if you two are going, grab a jacket, it’s gonna be cold,” Roman told them, grabbing his bag of tools and a jacket of his own.

Patton and Virgil ran to grab jackets and their phones, then they jumped in the car and they set off to Janus and Remus’ house.

---

Once they got there, they saw Janus and Remus already working on the car. When they saw the car pull up they walked over, tools in hand.

“Roman!” Remus called, giving his brother a hug once he was out of the car.

“Remus!” Roman called back. “What’s going on with the car? Is everything okay?” he asked, looking over at the race car they’ve been working on.

“Just takin’ a looksy,” Remus answered with a shrug. Patton soon blocked out all the mechanic talk (for his sanity) and went to go find Janus and Remus’ dogs, Joan and Talyn.

He found them soon enough, and he played with them until they all needed to go to the track.

At least... that’s what he thought.

Patton yelped when the car started and the dogs ran away for shelter. Now, if you’ve ever been near a started race car, you’ll know how loud they can be. And this one was extra loud, so Patton’s reaction was totally normal! Right?

Roman must’ve seen his reaction for he tried to yell over the car, but failed. He did catch words like ‘sorry’ and ‘loud’ but that was pretty much it. Instead of ignoring him, he gave him a weak smile and went to find the dogs again.

---

An hour later, they were packed up and driving out. Janus and Remus were in the truck pulling the race car while the others were piled into the car. It was a quiet ride. Not a lot happened except Logan and Roman playing the video of rules and such.

When they did get there, they paid their fee and parked the car, then made their way to the spot where Remus had parked. They had already unloaded the car and some tools and gotten Roman’s fire suit out.

They all quickly set to work on last minute fixes and stuff like that. Everyone seemed to have a job but Patton. So he sat on the trailer and watched YouTube for a while.

The starting of the car made him look up. He watched as Remus crawled in and slid the helmet on, then slid the steering wheel into its slot. Patton held his breath as he watched Remus drive away to the track.

Virgil saw this and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Pat. They’re just warm up laps. Not full speed yet.” he reassured him.

Patton just nodded and gave him a fake smile. “Yeah… just warm ups.”

---

When Remus returned, Patton heaved a sigh of relief when he saw him safe. Then he gasped and ran to the car when he saw it smoking.

“Remus! You’re smoking!” he cried.

Remus looked over at the hood of his car and laughed. “So it seems,” then he turned to Patton and smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s supposed to do that!”

Roman ran up, tools in hand and popped the lid. He sighed when he saw that the engine was just overheated (and not dangerously so). “Yeah, it’s fine, Padre,” Roman reassured him. Patton sighed and nodded then walked back to the trailer and sat and watched as Remus climbed out of the car. He frowned a little when he saw him light a cigarette, then sighed and traded his frown for a fond smile. There was no way he would get him to stop forever.

---

Hours later, when the sun went down, they were all walking to the stands to watch Remus’ first race. Paton gave Virgil’s hand a small squeeze. To steady Virgil’s nerves, he didn’t know.

When they got there, they took their seats and watched the cars line up. They spotted Remus’ green and black car soon enough and braced themselves for the bang of the gun that would let the cars loose.

They didn’t have to wait long and soon, they were off. Now, Patton couldn't tell you exactly what happened, but he could tell you that it was over before he knew it. He desperately tried to follow Remus, but couldn’t keep up with his fast speeds.

When it was over, they ran down to their trailer and saw Remus taking off the helmet, a smile pulling at his lips. Patton smiled right back and practically tackled him to the ground with a hug.

“Remus, that was amazing!” he told him, squeezing his middle as much as his cast would allow him.

Remus gasped as the air was knocked from him. But his smile widened when he saw Patton wrapped around him. “Glad ya think so, Patty-Cake.” he said, hugging him back.

“Ahem,” they both lifted their heads and looked at the others forming a semi-circle around them. “Good job Remus,” Logan told him. But, (to Remus’ displeasure) he wasn’t done. “We all think you did really well for your first time, and wanted to take you out to celebrate. But, it seems your evening is rather full,” he said in a smug tone. Remus’ face was bright red.

“Shut up, Nerdy Wolverine,” he snapped.

They broke apart (Remus wasn’t sad about that, not at all) and Patton giggled and turned to the others. “Well, are we gonna celebrate or not?” he asked, hands on hips. The others nodded and they loaded up the car and drove all the way to their favorite restaurant, Thomas’ Tavern. All in all, it was a perfect day in Patton’s book.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #character thomas #race AU #sorry its late #sanders sides race au #sanders sides ficlet #intruality

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tiny-anxious-mess · 5 years

Text

Dress to Impress

Summary: It’s date night for Logan and Roman. Logan searches for something to wear and instead finds a dress, some self-doubt, and a whole lot of love. (Human AU)

Pairings: Logan/Roman, Logince

Warnings: A few swears, kissing (though its nothing heated or anything), and some self-doubt and insecurity from Logan

Notes: second story!! thank you for all of the lovely comments on my first story, every single one makes my day! this fic was inspired by all the lovely fanart ive seen of all the different sides in dresses and i felt like writing something romantic so who better to pair logan with than the prince himself? haha hope yall enjoy this!

***

It wasn’t that Logan was nervous, he was just... hesitant.

It was date night and a date might entail looking good. Roman would say that Logan always looked good, but you couldn’t fault Logan for putting in an effort.

But tonight was different.

There was a meteor shower tonight and Logan wasn’t about to miss a second of it. Roman had tried to surprise him by scheduling their monthly date night on that night, but Logan was already one step ahead. He had a picnic basket and everything.

The night wasn’t the problem; he wasn’t hesitating because of the night or the date or the anything.

It was internal. He knew that; he had enough self-awareness for that, no matter his struggle with other such emotions.

He wanted to be comfortable for the night. They would be there long and it was supposed to be a warm night. And so he looked through his wardrobe and looked and looked and looked and—

Here was his problem.

Right in front of his was a dress.

It didn’t come as a surprise to him to find it; he had bought it himself ages ago, though he never had the right chance to wear it. But tonight presented to perfect opportunity to wear it.

And therein lied the catch.

It wasn’t that he was insecure or that he didn’t have the confidence to wear the dress out, it was just that... well, he had never worn something like it out with Roman.

Playing around with his clothing was nothing new—college had been an exciting time to mess around with it all. But as he grew a few years older, it was something that fell to the side. He dressed practically and appropriately depending on the situation. He rarely, for lack of a better term, dressed up just because he wanted to.

But now there was the dress and the date and Logan didn’t know what to do.

It’d be easy just to slip it on and go out. It was nothing fancy, just a short-sleeved sundress. It was practical, he told himself as he picked it up. It’s going to be warm out and this is nice and light and—it’s practical.

He didn’t understand why he was so hesitant. He wasn’t afraid of what other people said, he wasn’t afraid of himself. He just...

Roman had never seen him in a dress.

Hell, Roman had never seen him in anything other than pants and a shirt, what he normally wore. He had never seen the photos of Logan and Virgil, an old college friend, in drag for that one night after finals. He had never seen the makeup Logan kept in a bag in his bottom desk drawer. He had never seen Logan as anything other than Logan.

Not that he wouldn’t be Logan in the dress; of course he’d still be Logan. He’d just be Logan in a dress and that... that made him hesitate.

He won’t hate you for this, Logan reminded himself. There’s no reason to think that he would so don’t think about it. He loves you now and so he’ll love you tonight, dress or not. It’s illogical to think of the negative outcomes. You can’t predict the future; or at least, none of his past behavior is relevant; he’s given no indicators that he might react negatively to you in a dress.

Logan sighed heavily, squeezing the dress in his hands. He placed it down and reached for his phone, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

He pulled up Virgil’s contact.

Me: Virgil, sorry if I am interrupting something, but once you get the chance, remind what is the breathing technique you use to calm yourself down. I am... in need of some assistance.

Virgil: Nah you’re not interrupting anything b. I use the 4-7-8 breathing thing but it could be different for you. nothing is exactly guaranteed to work for any single person

Me: Thank you.

Virgil: Is everything alright? you’re usually the one helping me with breathing

Me: I am fine, just... I’m second-guessing myself and it is unnecessary. I simply need to ground myself for a moment.

Virgil: what are you nervous about?

Me: I’m not nervous, just hesitant.

Virgil: sure Jan, talk to me

Me: Mm. I just. Roman and I are going to the open field down the street for the meteor shower. I was looking for what to wear, seeing as it's supposed to be warm tonight, and came across a dress I bought a few months ago. I think it’s practically that I wear it but I. I’m being ridiculous and am second-guessing myself.

Virgil: Oh okay well relax roman is gonna drop dead when he sees you in the dress, its the blue one yeah?

Me: Yes. And I am perfectly relaxed. I am cool. I am chilled.

Virgil: why must you torture me this way?

Me: I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.

Virgil: how the hell can you sound smug through text?? anyway roman will adore the dress and you and if he doesn't, ill fight him

Me: Violence is not necessary but the intent behind the action is much appreciated, Virgil. Thank you.

Virgil: no problem man, text me if you need anything or a hitman!!

Me: You’ve been hanging out with Remus, haven’t you?

Virgil: only when I'm willing to risk my sanity!!!!!!

Logan sighed again, putting down his phone. It was pointless to torture himself any further.

He stood up, grabbing the dress once again and moving towards the bathroom.

Time to get dressed.

***

Logan and Roman arrived separately. Roman had to drive home from work and then to the field. Logan was already there, ten minutes early, with the picnic basket, blanket, telescope, books, and journal for the night.

He sat on the blanket, tugging on the hem of the dress. It would be fine, he told himself. He had nothing to worry about other than getting mauled by a bear.

He rolled his eyes at himself. God, now I sound like Virgil.

He shook his head, forcing himself to shake off his doubts. It would be fine, it was just him and Roman and the stars. He didn’t need to think about anything else.

And yet when he saw Roman’s car pull up next to his a few yards away, his heartbeat quickened.

Logan breathed in—one, two, three, four—held it—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven—and then out—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He stood, smoothing down his dress, and began towards Roman.

The man in question got out of his car, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Logan was able to identify roses, primroses, and red camellias. It was a rather beautiful arrangement; Logan could tell Roman had done it himself. He always insisted on carrying out his romantic gestures on his own.

Roman beamed when he saw Logan but it wasn’t until he used the flashlight on his phone that he reacted.

He paused then fully stopped. His mouth gaped, lips apart in an “o” formation. The flowers previously held closer up to his chest fell with his hand, now held loosely by his side.

Logan bit the inside of his cheek and reached up to readjust his glasses. He cleared his throat, saying, “Hi.”

God, “Hi”? Really, that’s all I can think of?

“H-Hi,” Roman stuttered. Even in the darkness, Logan could see the color in his cheeks, at the bridge of his nose.

“Ready?” Logan asked, wishing to fill the silence.

Roman blinked multiple times, eyes flickering over Logan before he swallowed and nodded. “I-I, um, yeah--yes! Yes, I’m ready!” he exclaimed, cheeks flushing fully this time. Then he paused and thrusted out the flowers. “Here! They’re for you! Of course, they’re for you; I didn’t exactly plan on doing anything else tonight and even if I was, I certainly wouldn’t be getting them flowers. Unless it was someone like my mom or mama, or--”

Logan walked forward, took the flowers, and kissed him.

Roman followed with no hesitation. He reached up to cup Logan’s face, lips quirking up ever so slightly when Logan turned his face into Roman’s palm.

They parted, lingering. “You look amazing,” Roman murmured against Logan’s lips. “Completely left me speechless.”

Logan snorted, smiling. “You had plenty of words, they were just jumbled,” he said quietly.

“That’s what you do to me,” Roman said. “Leave me all scrambled. It’s rude to deprive a poet of his words.”

“I never deprived you of anything.” They had begun to sway back and forth, rocking in each other's arms, still just barely parted.

“Oh please,” Roman scoffed, lips quirking again. He pulled back just enough to meet Logan’s eyes, gaze hooded and warm. “I could have a whole soliloquy written and memorized, and suddenly I see you and my thoughts fall to the side, my mouth goes dry, and all I can see is you. You, only you; you standing, sitting, humming, speaking, studying, laughing, smiling. You, just you; it’s enough to make me speechless. Enough to make me stop and stare. You’ve bewitched me and yet you are the cure.”

Logan was no good with emotions, even less so with translating them well into the words. Roman made it seem so easy. But Logan didn’t need to match Roman’s talent beat for beat.

Logan pressed a quick peck to Roman’s lips before resting his forehead against Roman’s. “I love you,” he whispered because he didn’t say those words a lot--perhaps not often enough--but he meant them every time he said it.

“I love you too.” The words sounded sweet from Roman, ringing orange and pink like a sunset in Logan’s mind.

Logan’s hand met and grasped Roman’s. “Shall we?” he asked, leaning back towards the field.

Roman smiled--and he says I make him speechless, Logan thought--and squeezed his hand, bringing it up to his lips, sealing the night with one final kiss.

“Let’s.”

#logan sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #logince #sanders sides fic #toph writes #virgil sanders

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fnaf-fanatical · 5 years

Text

Honestly

Summary

Deceit was an abusive ex and this is Virgil singing this song to him. Deceit kidnaps Patton, Logan, and Roman, with Remus taunting them. Virgil appears, singing the encore to them, making Remus hide for the moment. In this, if a side is overwhelmed with on intense emotion, they'll just burst into song with whatever they're feeling, so this song wouldn't already exist but would just be something made up on the spot.

Key

I = Singing (only while in quotes and full lines/lyrics)

I+B = Singing in unison with memory

B+S = Flashback

Virgil’s P.O.V.

I close my eyes, trying to sleep, but a vision flickers into view instead. I bolt into a sitting position, eyes flying open as I try to ignore it, blinking rapidly as though it will help. It doesn’t though, each time the darkness is replaced by his face, scales reflecting menacingly in the darkness. All the lies he told me, every single time that he made me feel worthless, that he said he was the only one who would love me. He would never answer directly, and the few times he did it was always a lie. I toss and turn, trying to get into a comfortable position. Eventually I give up, falling limp as I close my eyes, a memory stirring itself up. I feel like reality’s changing as the world around me swirls and blurs, it’s as though I’m falling into darkness, but suddenly I hit the ground, a dim light flickering in the corner.

“Everyone else hates you, I’m the only one who could ever love you.” He says, and my thoughts start to race. This is the first time he started going extreme with his lies.

“White lies but they’re getting dark” I sing softly, watching over the memory as it plays out. The world flickers again, to me in the videos, before and then after I was accepted. “Blurred lines but they’re getting clearer.” I watch as it changes back to the original memory.

“Just tell the truth, it’s not that hard!” I sing in unison with my past self shouting it at him.

“You’re crazy.” He hisses, glaring.

“You call me crazy” Reality fades and I’m sitting limply on the floor in an abandoned room, shackles on the walls, blood dripping down next to them “So am I crazy?” I get up, standing in the middle of my room as I try to calm my breathing.

“You know I’m right.” His voice whispers in my ear, and I don’t bother reacting, knowing it’s another one of his tricks to make me feel even worse.

“Your words don’t hold any weight.” My voice rings in the darkness and he quickly disappears, knowing I’m too riled up to be messed with right now. I fall into another memory as the darkness closes in on my vision.

“Why do you always tell me these things if you’re trying to comfort me?” I had asked, close to tears. He shifts, looking away.

“I’m just saying the truth.” He claimed, avoiding the real question.

“I can’t seem to get a straight answer.” I know what he said was a lie, but now it’s getting harder to trust anything he’s said. “Don’t trust you but who’s to blame?” He must’ve been a psychopath, he didn’t care about anything he did “I think you’re crazy” The world changes back to the abandoned room “But am I crazy?”

“I’m just telling the truth.” The memory repeats, and something in me hesitates. What if he’s right?

“Got me second guessing everything you say.” I see him appearing back in the Can Lying Be Good? video, acting so horribly towards me, so openly. “Thinking that I know you but you’re really a stranger.” It rewinds to him pretending to be Patton “Doing what you gotta do to get your way” I blink harshly, bringing myself back to reality. I glare at the empty room, starting to pace angrily “You’re reckless and selfish and you can’t help it!” I exclaim. “Say you’re talking to me honestly, but you’re lying to me constantly! All the bullshit,” I shake my head, my glare growing more intense “I don’t need it. And honestly I don’t believe it now.”

“I’m just being honest.” He said, mock-guilt appearing on his face “But I’m sorry that I upset you.” Yeah, like that qualified as an apology.

“Say you’re talking to me honestly, but I don’t want your dumb apology. Say you’re sorry, you don’t mean it. Sorry but I don’t believe it now.” I sing sarcastically.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” Patton asked as I walked through the common room, noticing my worrying expression.

“Just a small problem with Deceit.” I had replied, and instantly he appeared in my head, hissing an angry reprimand.

“Say too much but it’s not enough.” I had wondered why he was so upset. “Got me wondering, what are you hiding?” The memory changes to me crying in my bedroom after another one of his “Truth sessions”. I sing at the same time as I speak, “Did you lie when you called it love? Or am I crazy?” I looked down, tugging at my hair frantically “Somebody save me! Got me second guessing everything you say,” I see him insulting me again “Thinking that I know you but you’re really a stranger” I watch him change back from being Patton “Doing what you gotta do to get your way” I shake my head, trying to clear it “You’re reckless and selfish and you can’t help it! Say you’re talking to me honestly, but you’re lying to me constantly! All the bullshit, I don’t need it, and honestly I don’t believe it now.”

“I’m just being honest. But I’m sorry that I upset you.” It repeats again.

“Say you’re talking to me honestly, but I don’t want your dumb apology. Say you’re sorry, you don’t mean it. Sorry but I don’t believe it now.” I watch as my vision slowly decays, and it feels like I’m passing out.

I open my eyes and I seem to wake up, once more in the abandoned room, but this time my hands are in the chains on the walls, and I’m kneeling awkwardly on the ground, my hands hanging next to my head. I look around as the blood seems to slowly increase, only to flicker back to how it was originally. I don’t even know where I am, or if anything here is real. All I know is that the chains are made of his lies somehow, lie he created them by speaking them into existence with another one of his stupid fabrications. Have I gone insane?

“Don’t know what’s reality. Make me question my sanity.” I look around panickedly, pulling at the chains restricting me. “Don’t know what’s reality!” I take a deep breath, the blood suddenly covering everything in sight, including me “Am I losing my sanity?” I ask, my voice corrupting slightly. Suddenly I’m thrown back into my memories, repeating the same cycle. “Say you’re talking to me honestly, but you’re lying to me constantly! All the bullshit, I don’t need it, and honestly I don’t believe it now.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“Say you’re talking to me honestly!”

“But I’m sorry that I upset you.”

“But I don’t want your dumb apology. Say you’re sorry, you don’t mean it. Sorry but I don’t believe it now. Say you’re talking to me honestly, but you’re lying to me constantly! All the bullshit, I don’t need it, and honestly I don’t believe it now. Say you’re talking to me honestly! But I don’t want your dumb apology.” I seem to break out of the song, but I have a feeling it isn’t the end.

I hear commotion in the common room and burst through my door, running down the hallway. He knew I was distracted since he had popped in and found me in song, which means that he knows I couldn’t do much until it finished. As I race across the wooden floor I see him tying a final knot on Patton’s hands. I try to go faster as I see him readjusting the gags on Logan and Roman’s mouths, but just as I reach the room they sink out, leaving nothing behind. I skid to a halt, tears forming in my eyes.

Anger swells up inside me and I feel the injustice of every horrible thing he’s done, every lie he’s told, every action he’s ever done even in front of me building, crashing over me like a tsunami as I realize just how horrible he’s been, how toxic our relationship was. He used me, abused me, he gaslighted all of my memories, he never gave me a straight answer, he lied constantly, he made me believe I was worthless, told me that he was the only one who ever could love me, acting as though pointing out all of my flaws was an act of affection, that it was proof that he loved me, and since I never did any of it back that I didn’t really love him. He made me beg for him to stay, pleading on my knees that I loved him and that I wanted him to stay. We never really “broke up”, he just stopped keeping up the pretense of doing everything out of love.

I storm into the dark mindscape, looking around. I notice a slight difference in the inky black wall, something that only a former dark side would be able to notice, and I reach into the wall. It feels like some sort of weird goo, but deep inside there’s a handle for a hidden door. I yank it open, not bothering to shut it behind me as I sprint across the dark imagination. Remus controls it, just like Roman controls the light imagination, meaning that there are unfathomable creatures here, ready to destroy me in gruesome and unspeakable ways. The murder in my eyes keeps them away, either that or the fact that with each pounding step I seem to cause an earthquake, not caring as I quickly run over the landscape. Finally I make it to a dark and deteriorating castle, and I quiet my footsteps. I silently make my way down to the dungeons, and I pause as I see the decrepit room that they’re sat in. A bloodied, abandoned room with chains on the walls, each of them with their hands hanging loosely by their heads, their legs bound together in such a way that they seem to be kneeling. Remus stands over Roman, smirking.

“It’s so dark here! It must be like looking into an inverse mirror of your life. Say, I wonder if Virgil will pop in for a visit, he used to be here all the time!” He taunts. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut as I stumble backwards.

“Alright, you need to be punished for showing others that you were upset.” He says, dragging me across the floor, down the stairs, all the way to where the chains are. Only a single light remains on, blinking quietly in the corner.

“Please, no, I’m sorry! I’ll be better, I promise! Don’t leave me here!” I cry out, but it’s no use as he chains me up.

That wasn’t the only time he left me there. Any time I “acted out” or really just did something he didn’t like he’d leave me chained up there for days, occasionally even weeks. There was one time he left me here for a whole month. It’s why it kept flickering back to me, but I had repressed it so much that I didn’t recognize the place, I honestly thought I was going insane due to the obscurity of it. Phantom pain flashes on my wrists and I pull back my sleeves. Faint scars show the outlines of the chains, and I wonder how I never remembered before now. I guess I just didn’t think about them. Anger takes over again and I step forwards, my eyes growing dark as I glare into the room. Music starts playing and he and Remus look up at the reference in slight fear. I walk forwards, and as he sees the look in my eyes Remus sinks out, going somewhere else for now.

“Cross my heart my heart and hope to die,” Cold footsteps echo throughout the room “You never crossed my fucking mind” He takes a step back “Do you know what your “little” lies do?” I ask, the edges of my eyes glowing black “Do you know what I had to fight through?” I ask, a bite coming to my tone “Nothing that you say is mildly true, spit deceit through shifty smiles.” I reach where he’s standing and he backs up quickly, hitting into the wall. “Two faces you’ve had for a while, you act like such a fucking child.” I’m growing louder, and there’s something in his eyes that tells me he’s finally realized he made a mistake. I can read his thoughts clearly, What did I do?! “Who are you now? You’re so hostile to me.” I take a thunderous step towards him, more of my eyes dissolving into the darkness “I’m feeling homicidal. You better run and try and hide.” Another step closer to him, his breathing rapid and ragged “I was living in denial. Through all this time you had me riled up!” I’m face to face with him “All the shit has finally piled up!” He opens his mouth pathetically, and I glare as he rushes something out, trying to placate me.

“Virgil, you don’t have to do this! We can make up! Everything is okay!” He exclaims, trying desperately to calm me down.

“There’s no chance of reconciling us! With the falsehoods I’ve been filing away! For months you’ve made these stories up! Sick from the untruths you’ve been throwing up!” He gave me experiences so horrible I repressed them to the point that I thought I was insane for remembering them! “Had me thinking I was crazy!” I overheard him discussing me with Remus multiple times, saying how he missed me, that I used to spend so much more time with him, that he was sad I had moved out and into the light mindscape. “But turns out I’m your favorite thing to discuss!” At this point I’m shouting in his face, and my eyes turn fully black, any and all color disappearing into the void. He won’t give up though, trying again to calm me down.

“Wait, you don’t have to go that far! Don’t do it!” He cries out, terror in his eyes.

“YOU KEEP ON TALKING, SHUT UP! YOU KEEP RUBBING SALT INTO THE CUT! BROKE THE CYCLE NEED TO RECONSTRUCT! YOU’RE NO USE TO ME I’M GIVING UP!” I let out a deep breath, turning my back to him. My hands glow with a mix of black and purple, shooting out three separate beams of light that unchain each them. I watch as Logan stares blankly, abject horror in his eyes. Patton curls in closer to Roman, who grabs Logan protectively as well.

“We should go.” Logan finally says under his breath, and they all nod quickly, sinking out back to the light mindscape.

“Baby you’re a loser and I’m ashamed to say I ever knew ya. A user taking all I’d give ya. I swear to god I’ll never miss ya.” I walk back towards the door, pausing for a moment “Swear to god I haven’t missed ya.” I disappear, popping into my room as the music fades “God I hope I never miss ya.” I sing quietly to myself, tears forming.

(So, does anyone want a part two? I’m still debating on whether or not I should write it, so let me know!)

#mention of abuse #past abusive relationship #unsympathetic deceit #tw deceit #I'm finally posting my own stories #musical emotions au #tw remus #mentions of remus #mentions of chains #let me know if i need to add any #do you guys like it?

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jowritesthingss · 4 years

Text

A (Demi)Boy and His Demon: Two

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairing(s): LoSleep (Logic | Logan + Sleep | Remy)

Rating: Teen

Content Warning(s): lots of swearing, food/drink, death mention (nobody’s dead they just talk about death briefly), suicide mention (again, just alluded to in passing)

Length: 2,858 words

Brief Summary: Sleep-deprived writer Remy accidentally summons a serious-and-seriously-fed-up demon named Logan. Two. In Which Remy Kind of Regrets the Stupid Things He’s Done

Fic Masterlist!

The morning dawned bright and cold, the sun shining its annoyingly cheerful face through the window and directly onto Remy’s face.

“Goddammit” was the first word out of Remy’s mouth as they winced at the bright light. They stretched, scrunching up their nose, stretching out their arms, and arching their back slightly.

Body pleasantly loose and relaxed, Remy rolled over onto his back. Judging from how bright the sun was, they had no doubt slept through their alarm, which most probably meant they were missing class time, but exhausted as they were, they couldn’t seem to find a reason to care in the given moment.

See, Remy with no coffee in his system was a Remy who gave exactly zero shits about anything. Granted, Remy at any given time was a Remy who gave exactly zero shits about anything—it’s just, without their morning coffee, there was no filter to prevent him from releasing this information.

Remy sat up in bed. In glancing across the room at the alarm clock on his dresser, they were made aware of a lump lying under the sheets on the other half of the bed.

“Goddammit,” Remy said again, more vehemently this time.

So the day before hadn’t been a dream, then. Either that, or Remy had gotten absolutely smashed, and his alcohol-ridden brain had concocted the wildest dream about him and a one-night stand. But a cursory glance under the sheets proved them both to be much too clothed for that, and besides, things like that only happened in really bad fanfiction.

Then again, demons actually existing in real life just sounded like a really bad fanfiction trope, too, Remy grumped as they forced themself to swing their legs over the side of their bed. And yet.

Standing, Remy stared down at the body of the person—well, demon—huddled underneath his bedsheets.

“And yet,” they sighed aloud heavily, “here we are.”

“Where are we?”

The covers rolled down to the demon’s—to Logan’s—admittedly attractive slim waist, and xyr eyes flicked open to reveal slightly slitted, surprisingly coherent pupils. “Are we not in your bedroom, in your apartment, in the human realm?”

Remy yelped, jumping slightly. “Wh—you’re awake already?”

“Naturally,” Logan answered, turning away from Remy as xe got out of bed. “As a demon, I do not sleep. My body does not require rest—it merely require the souls of the damned for nourishment.”

Remy gaped. “Then—why did you watch me flounder around trying to find somewhere for you to sleep last night?” His cheeks colored slightly. “And if you don’t sleep, then why the hell’d you think it necessary to, to lie in my bed with me all night? That’s highkey creepy AF.”

Amusement flickered briefly across Logan’s expression before a look of cool indifference once more reappeared. “Again, I am a demon.” Logan stepped over to Remy’s dresser and began investigating the jumble of objects haphazardly shoved onto it. “As such, I do not feel emotions; however, the amusement I find in humans’ dismay is the closest I will get to feeling love.” Xe paused. “What is ‘ay eff’?”

Remy was pretty sure ‘amusement’ technically was an emotion, but he wasn’t about to contradict and potentially anger a demon before they had even had their morning coffee. Nor were they particularly in a mood to explain modern slang to a probably centuries-old demon, so he ignored xyr question and shelved that discussion topic away for another time.

After all, apparently they had an entire lifetime to talk about it now.

But he wasn’t particularly in the mood to think about that, either, so. Moving rapidly on.

“Babe,” Remy said instead, scandalized, as they realized what Logan was—still—wearing. “You’re telling me you slept in that getup?” They looked Logan up and down derisively, taking in the somehow non-rumpled collared shirt and—the hell, was xe still wearing that lameass tie?

Logan raised an eyebrow at Remy before turning to examine xyr surroundings once more. “Why would I not?”

“Don’t tell me demons don’t have pajamas.” Remy walked over to his dresser and lightly pushed Logan aside, opening a drawer and scrabbling around for some dayclothes for him to wear (and for some that might fit Logan, just to make xem look slightly less like a nerd).

“We do not,” Logan confirmed, nodding, “although the concept is not unfamiliar. We simply have no need for sleeping clothes when we do not do any sleeping.”

“Whatever.” Remy rolled their eyes and tossed Logan a wad of clothing. “Just go into the bathroom and put those on already, gurl. I gotta get to class, and I’m assuming you’re coming with since you’re, like, stuck with me or bound or whatever this is.”

“But I am already dressed,” came Logan’s befuddled reply.

“Oh, please. You’re not wearing that on my watch, gurl.” Remy shamelessly unbuttoned and stripped off his pajama shirt, sliding on a soft, casual gray tee. They untied their drawstring pajama pants and began to slide them down their legs.

Logan whirled away, xyr cheeks turning surprisingly red for a demon. Weren’t they supposed to be all over stuff like that?

“Shy, huh?” Remy teased, slipping on jeans and grabbing for their faux-leather jacket from the back of their desk chair. “Whatever happened to the whole sexy demon stereotype thing, hmm? Not that you aren’t sexy in your own dorky nerd way,” he added, enjoying watching the flush gather around the back of Logan’s neck.

“I, ahm,” Logan stammered, hugging Remy’s clothes tightly to xyr chest. “I am afraid that...I am not one of those types of demons.” Xe peeked behind xem at Remy and, seeing them fully dressed once more, turned around, shoulders stiff. “So if that is what you are expecting—”

“Nah, not really.” Remy shrugged, slipping on their shoes, not missing how Logan’s stiff posture relaxed somewhat upon hearing those words. “Although remind me to ask you about, like, demon types and shit like that once I’ve had my coffee,” he said. There was another topic to be noted for later discussion. “I’m not ready to have important convos or existential crises till I’m on my third cup.”

“Duly noted,” Logan honest-to-god (or was it honest-to-satan?) pulled a notebook and a pen out of nowhere and began scrawling something down. “I shall keep this in mind in regard to our future conversations. Additionally, I will endeavor to remember to bring up that particular subject later on.”

“Oh my god,” Remy groaned. They really got stuck with what had to be the only nerd demon in existence, didn’t they. “C’mon, babe. I’m late to class, and I want coffee. Get dressed.” They looked Logan up and down once more. “At least lose the tie, please. I’m a college kid. You’re not one of my professors.”

“What?” Logan said, affronted. Xe grasped xyr midnight blue tie loosely in one hand. “I do not wish to ‘lose’ it. It is a necktie. It is for serious demons. I am a serious demon.”

Remy snickered as they picked up the backpack lying by the bedroom door.. “You’re, like, a total invalid, that’s what you are.”

“I am not!” Logan shrilled behind them, offended. “Serious! Necktie!”

But Remy was already out the door, grinning triumphantly and thoroughly ignoring xem.

Naturally, they had to make a stop at the coffee shop on their way to campus. Remy was already late enough, so it wasn’t like he was going to make it to his first lecture even if they tried. Might as well face the rest of the day with coffee by their side. Caffeine was their only true friend.

Remy had already ordered and paid for his own coffee before it occurred to them that Logan might want some, too.

“Shit, do demons drink coffee?” Remy asked, turning to Logan, who thankfully had lost the necktie after they argued nonstop over it on the walk to the shop. Xe was standing behind Remy, observing as Emile worked the espresso machine. “So, do you? Drink coffee? And d’you want any?”

“Yes, if you do not mind,” Logan answered. “Some coffee would be most welcome.”

“Lit.” Remy turned back to the front counter, ignoring the questioning noise Logan made at his use of slang. “Sorry, Em, but could we get a medium coffee too?” He looked at Logan, appraising. “You look like a dark roast kinda guy.”

“You most certainly may!” Emile smiled cheerfully at the two and popped a lid on Remy’s drink. “It’ll be on the house, Mixter Demon, sir.” He winked over-exaggeratedly in that way that only he could pull off without looking like a total fool. “Do you want any room for cream and sugar?”

“No, thank you. I take my coffee black,” Logan deadpanned. “Like my soul.”

Emile nearly dropped the cup he was trying to hand off to Remy.

“W-wait, really?” Remy asked, wondering if he needed to get worried. Was he going to end up with a black soul or whatever because of this unintentional deal gone wrong? If he was, did he even care?

Logan rolled xyr eyes, and hey! Eyeroll buddies. So the two did have one thing in common after all. “No, of course not. The concept is ridiculous.”

Relaxing slightly, Remy nodded. “Yeah. Kinda is, gurl.” They sipped at their coffee—today he had gone for a mocha, figuring the extra caffeine in the espresso would be very much needed to survive the day with any amount of sanity still remaining.

The two fell silent for a moment, watching quietly as Emile bustled around and poured coffee into a to-go cup for Logan, then:

“Besides, I don’t have a soul,” Logan added.

Remy spit out their iced mocha.

“Okay,” Remy said, voice muffled as he used his teeth to fidget with his reusable straw. They looked both ways before grabbing at Logan’s arm and dragging xem across the street in front of the coffee shop. “So. Tell me about demon-y things.”

Logan paused mid-step, and Remy swore. “Oh my—gurl, wait till we’re done crossing the street. Maybe you can’t die, but I still can.” He hurried the demon across the street. “Walk ’n talk, babe, walk ’n talk. I do technically have someplace to be.”

“Actually.” Out of the corner of their eye, Remy saw Logan push xyr glasses up further on the bridge of xyr nose. Nervous tic, maybe? “About that.”

“About what,” Remy said flatly.

Logan seemed to get smaller, folding in on xemself somewhat as the two of them walked down the sidewalk. Xe fully took xyr glasses off, rubbing firmly at the lenses with the hem of xyr shirt, seeming reluctant to speak. Eventually, though, xe finally opened xyr mouth, and the words that tumbled out baffled Remy and shook him beyond belief.

“You cannot die.”

Remy nearly dropped their coffee.

After a moment of madly scrambling to keep his grip on the slippery, condensated surface of his coffee cup, Remy turned to fully face Logan. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You, erm.” Logan peered through the lenses of xyr glasses, deemed them still dirty, fervently wiped at them with the bottom of xyr shirt again. “Technically you can still die, and you will. Just...you can only perish of natural causes—that is, of old age, or perhaps a particularly nasty illness.”

Remy blinked. Wh...what.

Apparently satisfied with xyr cleaning of xyr glasses, Logan carefully fitted them back onto xyr face. Xe abruptly continued walking, forcing Remy to keep in motion as well to keep Logan from straying off-track on the way to campus.

“Due to the...unfortunate extenuating circumstances of our deal, we did not have the chance to configure the details of it,” Logan elaborated. “As such, our contract with each other has resulted in the...shall we say, the default?” Xe pondered xyr words for a moment. “Yes, ‘default’ suffices, given our context.”

“I—how?” Remy managed to push a word and a half out of his choked throat, his fumbly mouth. Honestly, that was a pretty good number, considering the situation. “What’s the—so what’s the default, then?”

“If you happen to be fatally injured or similarly, our deal mandates that I heal you or, at the very least, provide you with the means of survival,” Logan explained. Xe smiled for the first time—but it was a grim, knowing smile that Remy didn’t find themself liking in the slightest. “Of course, ensuring that you survive does not require anything beyond a bare minimum.”

Logan’s face was weirdly shadowed for someone standing in the middle of the street on a sunny day. “Should I choose to, I could make your life quite miserable.”

Remy swallowed.

“However.” Logan fixed xyr unwavering gaze on Remy. “As you have not given me reason to do as such, we shall hope that it does not come to such measures.”

Unable to do anything other than nod, Remy rapidly shook his head up and down, not unlike a bobblehead. Logan had seemed fairly harmless at first, even for an apparent demon, but now...oh, boy. They were very much not keen to get on xyr bad side.

“The only fatal injuries that I am not required to heal are self-inflicted ones,” Logan said, albeit more quietly than xyr previous words had been. “If it is a human’s wish to take themself out of this world, it is...not my duty to interfere.”

“Oh. Uh.” Remy licked his dry lips nervously. “You won’t have to worry about that here. I don’t think.” Their throat was dry—any lingering wetness from the coffee had disappeared quite quickly when Logan had first begun speaking. But—oh, wait, they were an idiot. There was still more coffee left.

The two of them walked past the front sign of Remy’s university, officially on campus. Remy jerkily lifted his iced coffee to his lips, taking the tiniest of tiny sips. “Is there...any way to, like, break a deal or something?” Remy asked nervously as he guided the two of them towards the art building.

Logan sighed. “If I were an angel, perhaps I would be kind enough to look for a loophole,”—and, what the fuck, angels existed too? which, like, made sense, considering demons were a thing, but still, what the fuck—“however, deals are permanent contracts, and in return for ensuring your survival, our deal promises me your soul upon your death.” Logan sighed again, more heavily this time. “So as...irritating as you may be, and as much of an inconvenience as you no doubt will become, I am not particularly inclined to break a deal that benefits me in such a way.”

“Wh....” Remy didn’t exactly want to know the answer to what he was about to ask; all the same, they felt like they had to ask. “What are you going to do with my soul when I...when you finally get it?”

Logan stared wordlessly at Remy, and Remy did not like the expression on xyr face, no siree, they did not. “Are you sure that you would like to know?” xe asked lowly, and Remy had never been more aware of the fact that his new (unwilling) companion was, in fact, a dangerous, all-powerful demon.

“Nope!” Remy all but shrieked, turning on their gay speed-walking powers and moving ahead of Logan, now all the more anxious to get to class. “No, I do not want to know! I do not want to even think about it! I don’t want to think about any of this, actually, so you know what, we are officially closing this discussion topic for, like, ever! I just want to live my life, holy shit!”

Logan frowned. “How is shit holy?” xe questioned, and this time, Remy really did drop his iced mocha—or, well, the little that was left of it.

“Oh my—actually, no, never mind,” Remy muttered sullenly, picking the cup up from the ground. They extracted their straw from the cup, wiping it off on their jeans before they shoved it into the side pocket on his backpack. “Babe, you are, like, literally hopeless.”

“Naturally,” Logan responded evenly. “I am a demon. We have no need for hopes and other ridiculous goings-on.”

“I—ugh!” Remy threw his used coffee cup into the trash can with more force than was strictly necessary. They all but stomped over to the door of the art building, yanking the door open. “Nope. I am totally not dealing with this right now. I’m going to class for the next ninety or however many minutes, and you”—they jabbed a finger in Logan’s direction—“are being put in time-out. You can sit out in the hallway like a lost puppy or like, like a kid at the principal’s office or...or something!”

Logan blinked owlishly behind his glasses. (Which, why would a demon even need glasses if they have magic? Xe really was trying too hard for a nerd aesthetic, if you asked Remy.) “But I am not—”

“NO!” Remy all but shrieked, practically running into his animation classroom and slamming the door behind him.

Logan stared after them, flummoxed.

Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

lol this sat finished and edited on my hard drive for a week before I remembered that oh, yeah, I do kinda have to actually post it to share it with y’all, don’t I.

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not-safeforsanders · 5 years

Text

Sugar Daddy

Warnings: Age gap (19-37), nsfw as always, I guess sort of prostitution but not in the traditional sense.

Ship: Logicality

Plot: It seemed like a simple arrangement, fuck the dude, get paid. Really simple. Right up until Patton realized that his sugar daddy is actually kind of...sweet

((Am I projecting onto characters again? U bet ur ass I am))

Patton sighs as he looks down at his outfit. “You look wonderful, as always, Pat,” His flatmate, Roman grins at him “That ass though,” Patton giggles a little as he stares in the mirror. White, ripped skinny jeans with a pastel blue shirt tucked into them, little cacti decorated the shirt and overall gave him a look of sweet and innocent.

Which heavily contradicts with the arrangement he’s made.

He slides his circular glasses up his freckled nose and runs a hand through his unruly curls in hope of sorting them out somehow. “Are you sure I look okay?” He sighs, sliding his feet into his rather battered boots and tying the rainbow print laces into double bows. Roman nods enthusiastically in response, being the personal hype man that he always is for his friends.

“Absolutely stunning, he’s not going to be able to keep his hands off of you,” Which might also be a problem. See, Patton is no stranger to sex, it’s having sex with strangers that is the predominant issue. He knows very little about this man as a person, what if he’s not trustworthy? What if this is all just a really bad idea. Isn’t this essentially prostitution?

He thinks about this as he slides his headphones over his head and begins his journey to the place they’d agreed to meet up. It’s just dinner, really, for tonight, just to feel a little more comfortable with each other. And for Patton, a free meal is a wonderous thing especially when he sees how bare his cupboards are.

The college student stands outside of the restaurant, hands in his pockets as he sways nervously on the spot, he glances down at his phone every now and then just to refresh his memory of what the other man looks like. A car pulls up outside, if this guy could not get any more stereotypical he has his own driver.

Patton really does hate billionaires most days of the week, but this one is feeding him so he can’t really complain right now.

Then, there he is. Tall, slender but not skinny, with a sharp jawline and tan skin, black hair perfectly coiffed except for one strand that didn’t seem to want to behave today, as it fell into his blue eyes. “Hi there Patton,” He extends a hand which Patton shakes with a dazed expression, tugging his headphones off of his ears. “Glad to see you got here safely, shall we” He gestures towards the restaurant with a small smile.

If he didn’t know better, Patton might say he almost looked a little shy. But men like that don’t get to come into so much money by being shy. Right?

The inside of the restaurant is huge, with dim lighting and candles on the tables, the menus finely printed in white and gold. If Roman ever became rich, he’d love this place. As they’re seated, Logan holds out a menu for Patton before talking “So I suppose I just wanted to know about you, get to know you, perhaps it would make the whole ordeal feel less strange for both of us if...”

“We don’t feel like strangers?” Patton smiles a little “Yeah I get that feeling,” His eyes widen at the prices on these meals, a soft ‘what?’ leaving his lips. “Why...Why here? Aren’t these prices a little...excessive?” He’d really just wanted something to eat, he hadn’t expected a meal of nearly $200.

“Admittedly, not my general place of eating, it is excessive, but I wanted to make a good impression, and I’m told the best way to do that is too...” He trails off a little, looking for the right words.

“Buy them?” Logan’s cheeks flush, looking a little mortified at first until he sees Patton’s grin “You don’t need to throw your money at me for everything, especially food that I probably won’t even enjoy,” He rests the menu on the table for a moment “And if you really want to make a good impression, mister, you could start by not throwing money around like it’s nothing, the costs of these meals are the cost of my rent for a month,” He chuckled “But I suppose I’ll enjoy being spoiled just for tonight,”

“I apologize, I hadn’t quite considered you may be offended by frivolous displays,” Patton hesitates, noting the sincerity in the other’s voice, and that the blush to his cheeks hadn’t quite faded making this detail noticeable even in the low light. He’s kind of cute. For someone in their late thirties anyway.

They order food and wine and talk. Logan discusses his work, which was formerly as a CEO of his father’s company and he detested every second of it, he now works as a professor. “I finished my doctorate when I was 25,” He explains “But my father wanted me to work for him, and it paid very well so I stayed, and I saved up a lot of my money because I knew there would be a time where it didn’t come so freely, but then my father died and I got practically all of his money, and my brother took over the company so it all worked out in the end,”

“I take it you and your father didn’t get along well?”

“He was, for lack of better phrasing, the world’s biggest asshole,”

“Language!” Logan laughs a little, and Patton can’t help but smile a little. “So now you work in a University? What do you teach?”

“Physics,” Patton nods, he knows nothing about physics, or science, or really anything that requires any degree of mathematics. “And what about you? You mentioned you are a student?”

“Part-time, it’s all I can afford,” He chuckles, but it has a sad tone to it. “I work two jobs just to make rent, sometimes I have to cover some of my roommates because his boss keeps fucking him around, and it’s not exactly easy to get a job these days,” He notices Logan’s expression and corrects the misunderstanding that may have occurred “He always pays me back! It just leaves us both a little strapped for cash when it happens, which basically means food is...nonexistent,” Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend that people live like that.

“What do you want to be?” He finally asks.

“Oh, I want to work with children, primary school children mostly because teenagers are scary,”

“Admirable, much harder job than mine, I spend too much time around young children and fear I may spontaneously combust,” He fidgets around with his phone for a moment “And what’s your roommate's name?”

“Roman, Prince,” Logan nods slowly, not looking up from his phone for a moment.

“And what University do you study at?”

“Beacon College...is this 20 questions?” Patton watches him with a look of confusion on his face but is then distracted as the food is put down in front of them. He thanks the waiter with a smile as he starts to eat. Logan switches off his phone and places it down on the table, ignoring it’s existence again.

“Apologies, work texts,” Patton nods, understanding as he practically shovels the food into his mouth. “I appreciate that you may be hungry, but if you continue to eat at that pace you will make yourself feel sick,” The student slows down a little, swallowing his food before uttering with a smile.

“You sound like my mom,” He teases lightly, as Logan rolls his eyes and starts on his own food. The two eat in varying degrees of quiet, occasionally chipping in odd comments and tidbits of conversation. At the end of the meal, Logan tips the waiter and gives him a smile. “Put it in your pocket and don’t tell your boss,” Patton advises, the waiter laughs and gives Patton a small wink as he takes the plates back to the kitchen.

“This was nice,” Logan said gently “I almost forgot we even had a predetermined arrangement halfway through that meal, it’s been a while since I’ve been able to talk to a person in a normal manner, it’s very...calming and grounding to spend time with someone who doesn’t mind being honest with me,”

“Honesty is the best policy, most of the time,” Patton replies, digging his hands into his pockets “So...do I go back to yours or...?”

“Perhaps not tonight, our meal lasted longer than anticipated and I have a 9 AM lecture to teach tomorrow,” Patton nods and looks down at his feet awkwardly. “If you don’t mind me asking, however, do you mind...if you’re interested...?” He stumbles over his words, a man so eloquent yet so easily foiled by matters of the heart as he gestures loosely towards Patton.

The student smiles, watching the man trip over his words before he finally pities him just a little too much, and leans up to kiss him gently. He tastes like wine and coffee and whatever was in that meal he ordered, yet he also tastes soft...and of something that Patton had never tasted before.

As quickly as it started it was over, and Logan ducks his head to hide the flushed cheeks as Patton fights back a smile. “See you later,”

“Yeah,” Logan replies dazedly, blinking as he watches Patton walk away “See you later,”

For the next two days, Patton can’t stop thinking about Logan. He gets a text just as he’s finishing work on the first day asking if he’d like to come over for dinner tomorrow evening. When he says yes, Logan asks for his address and says he’ll send someone to pick him up.

Now Patton’s not, generally, dumb. That’s what he tells himself as he hands over his address to a near stranger, an action that has him, and Roman, questioning his sanity. He gets through his own front door to be greeted by his roommate, who looks like he’s just seen a ghost, he’s holding an envelope in each shaking hand. “I think your sugar daddy paid off our university bills,” He whispers, holding out an unopened letter with Patton’s name on it. “Because I didn’t pay them off,”

Patton reads his own letter, a hand coming up over his half-open mouth. “Holy...smokes,” He whispers “He didn’t? He did, holy...oh my God,” His face breaks out into a smile.

“Jesus you must have some sort of magic ass to get that done,” Patton flushes red at the comment and shoves Roman playfully.

“We haven’t actually fucked yet, but I guess I should probably go get changed for that,” Roman squeaks as he ushers the other man to his room.

“I have to dress you for this occasion,” Patton sighs, but there’s no arguing with Roman once he has his mind set on something. They’re both the same height and weight and it’s not uncommon for Roman to steal some of Patton’s jeans every now and then, but in general, the younger has a much more frivolous taste in clothing. Which is how Patton finds himself wearing a pleated white skirt that falls just above his knees, with knee-high socks and dark blue shirt. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight,” Roman chuckles as he sits cross-legged on the bed applying glitter to Patton’s eyelids. He pauses for a moment “Is this...do you want to do this?” He finally asks, looking worried.

“I do,” Patton replies softly “I wasn’t sure at first, but he’s actually...really sweet and, if all else fails, really cute,” Roman nods, satisfied with this response “And he has lovely eyes,” The elder can hear his friend laughing just a little at his lovestruck expression, but Patton can’t quite react as the younger resume applying makeup.

The car picks him up at the time agreed upon and Patton gives Roman a quick kiss on the cheek, with the promise that he’ll call if he needs him. The ride to Logan's house wasn’t all too long, and the house itself was not quite as lavish as Patton has been expecting, no it was a moderately sized house that most upper-class people would have, with a quaint and pretty garden.

Patton stands at the door feeling so small against the big house, reaching up to knock before stepping back a little. Logan opens the door, wearing skinny jeans and a smart blue shirt tucked into them. A tea towel resides on his shoulder, indicating he’d just been using it which is solidified by a wonderful smell. “You have your own driver but you cook for yourself?” Patton relaxes and smiles as he teases the elder man just slightly.

“I can’t be completely helpless in the world,” He holds open the door “May I take your jacket?” Patton smiles and slides the denim jacket off his arms, handing it to Logan as he hangs it up on the coat stand. “Generally I ask for people to take their shoes off at the door, I have some house shoes, cleaning these carpets can be a nightmare,” Patton nods, they have the same rules in their flat too, only because their vacuum is trash and neither of them has a lot of time for cleaning. He toes off his shoes and slides his feet into slippers that are four sizes too big, but he doesn’t miss the slightly endeared look Logan gives him.

“So what’s for dinner?”

“Lasagne if that’s okay? I realized I possibly should’ve asked if you have any dietary requirements,”

“Oh no, not at all, it smells lovely,” He follows the other into the kitchen and sits down at the dinner table “So did you...was it you who...paid off our student debts? And our tuition? That’s a lot of money I don’t know how to thank you...”

“I’m not in the habit of lying, so I will admit I did, but I don’t want nor need a thank you, I have the money to spare I wouldn’t make a decision financially that I couldn’t handle,” Logan rests a plate down in front of Patton “Furthermore, please don’t feel obligated to me, I simply couldn’t handle the idea of you struggling like that, you don’t...deserve it, nobody does, and for now it’s all I can do,” He sits down opposite Patton with his own plate “Also the food is hot, please don’t burn yourself,”

Patton can’t quite understand his kindness. They had a set of rules in place, an arrangement. Patton hadn’t even given him his end of the bargain and Logan wasn’t remotely pushing for it, he was simply being...nice? Letting Patton go at his own pace? It’s rather sad that Patton really does not, cannot, fathom why someone would do such a thing.

But there again, if it were him in Logan’s shoes he’d probably do the same. They eat in a comfortable silence as Patton digests his first and only meal of the day. He feels out of place in this big home, he feels so small against the tall walls and like he doesn’t belong, doesn’t fit. As he finally rests down his knife and fork, he looks nervously over at Logan. “So I guess you would like me to...I mean our arrangement was...”

“I only want you to do what you want to do, your company has been more than pleasant enough,” It finally settles into Patton that sex hadn’t been what Logan wanted at all. For some reason, it had been easier to say that than admit the truth.

He’s lonely.

All the money in the world can’t buy you a real friend, can’t buy you someone to listen to your awful parents except maybe a therapist, it can’t buy you someone who looks past who you’re supposed to be into who you are. Patton’s lips quirk a little “Well I’m lonely too,” He replies “And I’m bored, and I’m not...opposed,” Logan rests down his knife and fork and wipes his mouth off on the napkin “But I suppose you don’t get this often...what do you want?”

It takes the elder a moment before he nods “Mostly to watch a movie and see what happens,” Patton nods.

“Netflix and maybe chill it is then,” Logan looks like he doesn’t understand the reference, Patton is somehow completely not surprised.

They curl up on Logan’s bed as he opens Netflix, Patton’s head rests on the elder’s collarbone, his arm around his stomach. Once a film had been chosen, Logan’s arm rests comfortably around the smaller’s shoulders. “You look...nice,” He says softly, compliments not always coming easy to him but he felt the overwhelming urge to make sure the other knows he is pretty. “I like the skirt,”

“I bet you’d like what’s underneath it too,” Logan’s jaw tenses and his breath hitches a little as Patton leans up to kiss him softly. “Say no if you want to stop,” He mutters against his lips. It had been a while since he’d had the time to simply...well, fuck; Roman seemed to have someone every other night but he also has ten times the amount of energy of a normal human being. Which usually meant Patton had to listen through the very thin walls.

He’s lonely and he’s horny, in essence. “So much for just seeing where it goes, huh?” Logan mutters as Patton’s thighs trap his body underneath him, his ass resting against the other’s crotch suggestively.

“I’m seeing where it goes,” He kisses him again, his hands keeping himself up as he grinds his ass down against Logan, eliciting a rather surprised gasp as the elder man’s eyes closed. Patton somehow looks even prettier, his glasses sliding down his nose, his skirt tenting slightly as it rested higher up his thighs.

Logan’s hands rest firmly on Patton’s hips as he rolls his own up against Patton's ass, feeling his own cock harden underneath the younger. Logan’s hand slides up Patton’s skirt, squeezing him through the material of his very tight, very thin underwear; the brunette gasps out and rocks his hips into Logan’s touch with a whimper of need, nails digging into his partner’s arms. “Fuck me, please, Patton breathes quietly against Logan’s neck, his breath turning sporadic.

The elder man doesn’t need to be told twice as he easily flips them over, lying Patton down into the bed; he takes a brief moment to admire how wonderful he looks with his cheeks flushed, legs spread, soft curls splayed out against the pillows. Logan wastes no time sliding his partner’s underwear down, discarding the item before sucking the tip of Patton’s cock between his lips, tongue brushing against the slit.

Patton gasps and whimpers and makes all sorts of wonderful noises as he tries not to simply fuck Logan’s throat. “Please Lo...” He finally manages, embarrassingly needy after spending so long alone. The blue-eyed man pushes through his drawers, looking for the bottle of lube and a condom

Once he’s found both of these things he slides his belt through the loops and discards it. Pouring some lube onto one hand, he teases Patton’s hole a little, whilst listening to the soft pants and whimpers coming from the brown-eyed man’s lips. As he starts to stretch the other open, forearm tensing as he works his fingers in and out of Patton, with his other arm he squeezes himself through his boxers. His dick flexes under his touch and a quiet moan escapes him, biting down on his lip as he watches the way Patton rocks his hips into Logan’s touch “I’m ready,” He whispers.

The professor nods as he kicks off his trousers and underwear, sliding a condom over his hard length and lubing himself up. His arm rests to the side of Patton as he uses his free hand to guide himself into the other. Patton welcomes the pleasurable burn with a quiet series of moans, easily accommodating his partner. “Fuck that feels good,” the younger whispers once Logan’s cock is fully inside of him.

“Good, it would be somewhat counterproductive if it didn’t,” A light teasing tone accompanies the seriousness of his statement. He does want Patton to enjoy this too. It’s been a while for him too, and the warm tightness around his dick is slowly eating away at his resolve, he takes it slow anyway so he doesn’t cause Patton any unwanted pain.

He rests himself between Patton’s legs, his chest pressing against Patton’s, as their lips meet again in a warm and heated kiss, Logan moves slowly at first until he can taste and hear the quiet demands for him to go faster. As he thrusts into the other, feeling his skin prick with heat and muscles burn in his arms and thighs and abdomen. Patton responds by grinding his hips up, whimpering every time the angle was just right; he makes a lot of noise, but quietly, soft whimpers and gasps in quick succession of each other.

Logan has been told he’s too methodical to make noise during sex. He concentrates so much on making his partner feel good that sometimes he genuinely forgets he’s supposed to also be feeling good, and he does...it’s just sort of like background noise right now.

He leans down to suck and bite at Patton’s neck, his hand finding the younger’s twitching cock and squeezing. He teases a little, listening to the curses aimed at him with an amused lilt to them before he strokes Patton properly and in time to the rapidly increasing thrusts. “Fuck, Lo...I’m close,”

“Language,” Logan teases a little before he presses deep inside the other, Patton bites down on the other’s ear lobe in response, taking note of the throaty and surprised moan it elicits. Patton bites down on his bottom lip, his throat bared as he arches lightly, his nails digging into Logan’s shoulders as he moans and gasps, eyes screwing shut.

Logan thinks he looks absolutely stunning as he comes, watches him stammer out words in an order that makes no sense, although he does catch a “thank you,” in there. He stills his thrusts as Patton hisses lightly from the overstimulation, pulling out and rolling the condom off of his cock. Once the younger moves again, he pushes Logan back onto the bed, looking a little shaky but with a wide smile on his lips. “There are some flavored condoms in there if you need them,” Logan supplies helpfully.

He didn’t think he’d ever see someone get excited over flavored condoms. He can’t help but smile as Patton holds up the different flavors. “I have got to try all of these,” He mutters, before grabbing the strawberry one and opening the packet, rolling it down Logan’s dick. The elder relaxes back into the pillows at the touch, watching as Patton’s head sinks between his thighs. His hands grip the sheets at the warmth and wet, trying his best to keep his hips pinned firmly to the bed as Patton finishes him off, head bobbing up and down his cock.

It doesn’t take much longer for Logan to finish, gasping out Patton’s name like a prayer as he shifts his hips just a little into the other man’s mouth. As he reaches his climax, Patton looks up at him through long lashes and that image is really all he needs to be pushed straight over the edge.

He lies back, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair as he smiles up at Patton, the younger crawling up his body to press a kiss to his lips before the two set about chucking the condoms in the bin and getting a shower.

Logan doesn’t quite think he’s ever liked someone as much as he likes Patton. Although the sex has done wonderful things for his Dopamine levels, he doesn’t think it’s the sex that makes him feel this way; no it’s more to do with the fact that Patton is currently dancing around the bathroom wearing nothing but his underwear whilst singing along to music that logan has never heard before but has decided he loves. And there’s his smile. And his eyes. And how his hair seems even curlier after sex.

Logan just...really likes Patton.

Ko-Fi ((Please if any of u can donate I would be very much thankful, u can also commission work off of me))

#not safe for sanders

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