#a couple of people are surprised by how young Logan seems to be but you know who been known? me I knew he was a baby boy this whole time

[babsvibes]

You’re laughing? This beloved baby boy wants to crawl in a hole and die after his mom revealed to the whole crowd that he’s a single virgin loser, and you’re laughing??

#babsbles #bob’s burgers #logan bush #logan barry bush #logan berry bush #I love him so goddamn much #so ready to drop it in a louigan fic that Louise remembers this instance years later and WILL be making fun of him for it #he tries to flirt and she’s like :/ idk Logan are you sure Cynthia thinks you’re ready for a girlfriend? #stolen from Caroline btw she’s been my rock since the promo photos for this fantastic episode #a couple of people are surprised by how young Logan seems to be but you know who been known? me I knew he was a baby boy this whole time #comfortable flats SENSIBLE flats

[xoxoavenger]

Days of Future Past

pairing: Young!Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

summary: What if Charles had a wife in the 70s? And what if she was pregnant when Logan came to visit?

word count: 5071

warnings: canon typical violence, pregnancy, addiction

part two

masterlist birthday celebration masterlist

"I got it!" Y/N yelled as someone knocked on the door. She wiped her hands on her apron, as she had been making dinner when the knock sounded, and went to go open the door. When she made her way to the lobby, however, Hank was already talking with the man outside. He forcefully made his way inside, and Y/N crossed her arms over her stomach.

"Hey! I said the school's closed. You need to leave." Hank yelled after the man, but he was still making his way inside.

"Not until I see the professor." The man said, and Y/N stepped forward.

"There's no professor here, sir. Maybe you should get along." She said, and Hank protectively went to her side.

"Y/N! I didn't know you'd be h - you're pregnant?" The man said, and Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know my name?" She asked, taking another step forward. The man sighed. He looked annoyed and worn out, but Y/N really didn't care.

"Look, someday, we're all gonna be good friends. You just don't know it yet." The man said to the both of them, before punching Hank in the face. Y/N dropped to his side as he fell to the ground, letting the man walk up the stairs. What did he mean by that? And if they were supposed to be 'friends,' why did he punch Hank?

"That son of a bitch," Hank grumbled out, rubbing his cheek.

"Professor?" The man called, and Y/N immediately rushed to follow the man up the stairs and to the left, Hank still on the floor. Charles was having a hard time, and he needed more help than Hank would.

"Sir, I don't know who you think you are, or who you think you're looking for, but-" Y/N cut herself off as a blue Hank went barreling past her. Her eyes widened, watching the two fight down the hallway. She stood with her back against the wall as Hank threw the man across the stairs, jumping after him. He then proceeded to throw the man all the way down the stairs, onto the table in the lobby. The door across the hallway from her opened, and Y/N was met with blue eyes.

"Charles," She greeted, surprised as Charles emerged from their room. They heard growling, and the two made their way to the main lobby, Y/N pulling off her apron and putting it on the bannister.

"Hank? What's going on here?" Charles yelled, and Y/N followed silently down the stairs.

"Professor?" The unnamed man said.

"Please don't call me that." Charles requested, and Y/N frowned. She looked at Hank, who was hanging upside down on the chandelier directly on top of the man. She put her head down, staying silent. When Charles first lost his legs, he didn't seem to care as much. It was only when his friends, his family, began to get drafted for the war that Charles fell, and hard. She had tried her best to get him to lay off the serum, especially because she was pregnant. She had found out a couple weeks after they had opened the school, right before people were getting drafted. She tries not to think about the fact that he may have been better off if she hadn't been in his life, if she wasn't carrying his child. She would never voice her thoughts, however, and it was much easier to pretend now that he no longer could read her mind.

Sometimes they even pretended she wasn't pregnant, that they weren't mutants.

"Why? Do you know this guy?" Hank asked. Y/N still didn't dare look up. She didn't want to make things worse, didn't want to set Charles or Hank off even more. Both were clearly stressed out, and she was stuck not being able to help either. The easiest thing for her to do was shut up and make food.

Speaking of food, she should probably go back there.

"Yeah, he looks slightly familiar. Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank." Charles said, his voice already slurring. If he hadn't been paralyzed and she hadn't been pregnant, he wouldn't have been drunk already. Hank flipped off the Chandelier, and the man began to slowly sit up.

"You can walk." Y/N heard the man say, and she snapped her head up. What did this guy know? Who was he to know that Charles hasn't always been able to walk? All thoughts of her going back to the food was abandoned in favor of backing up Charles.

"You're a perceptive one." She said, and Charles gave her a look as he walked down the stairs. She rolled her eyes, beginning to talk over the man that was already talking. She was breaking her number one rule, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I thought Erik-"

"Which makes it slightly perplexing that you managed to miss our sign on the way in." Y/N said, and Charles looked at her before finishing the talk.

"This is private property, my friend. I'm gonna have to ask him to ask you to leave." Charles sat down on the last step, and Y/N rushed down the steps to his side, grabbing ahold of his arm.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, because, uh, because I was sent here for you." The man said, and Charles looked at Y/N, but his expression was blank. He looked back to the man.

"Well, tell whoever it was that sent you that I'm-" Charles lead off, looking at Y/N once more. His gaze rested on the bump that was currently fanning out the dress she had on. "Busy, obviously." He finished, and Y/N looked back to the man.

"That's gonna be a little tricky, because the person who sent me was you." The man said, taking a deep breath.

"What?" Y/N and Charles said at the same time, although Charles seemed less interested than Y/N. She didn't quite understand all the things he understood, and right now she was lost.

"About fifty years from now." The man continued, and Y/N released Charles' arm to hold her head in her hands. How was that supposed to work?

"Fifty years from now? Like in the future, fifty years from now?" She asked, looking back up at the man. She knows she needs to stop talking, but suddenly life was flipped and she forgot to remember herself for a moment.

"Yeah." The man confirmed.

"I sent you from the future." Charles said. He definitely wasn't believing it.

"Yeah." The man confirmed again, and Y/N looked over to see Hank shaking his head.

"Piss off." Charles said, and Y/N stood, rising tall to intimidate the man. It wasn't working.

"You have some nerve showing up here, punching Hank and making fun of Charles. How did you even know my name?" Y/N asked, walking closer to the man, but he looked around her at Charles.

"If you had your powers, you'd know I was telling the truth." He said, and Y/N punched him before she could even think about it.

"Woah, woah, woah." Hank said, him and Charles going to her side to pull her back. Hank hung onto her while Charles stared at him.

"How do you know I don't have my," Charles led off, and the three shared a look. "Who are you?" Charles asked again.

"I told you." The man said, but Charles didn't believe him.

"Are you CIA?" Charles asked.

"No."

"You been watching me?" Charles asked, and Y/N felt her heart rate pick up as she knew Charles' was as well. She got anxiety for Charles ever since he was shot, and she hated the feeling.

"I know you, Charles. We've been friends for years. I know your powers came when you were nine. I know you thought you were going crazy when it started, all the voices in your head. And it wasn't until you were twelve that you realized all the voices were in everyone else's head. Do you want me to go on?" The man spoke, and Y/N stared at Charles. After a moment, he turned to her, silently asking if she had said anything. She shook her head, because first of all, why would she tell, and second of all, who would she tell?

"I only told Y/N that." Charles said quietly.

"One day, you'll share your story." The man said, and Y/N turned to look at Hank, who was just staring. She was so confused and tired and she just wanted to go back to making dinner while Hank worked and Charles drank.

"Alright, you've piqued my interest." Charles said, and Y/N moved closer to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him.

"Charles, we don't even know who this guy is. He could be a telepath. We don't know anything except he came in here and started a fight with Hank." Y/N said, but Charles shrugged her off.

"What do you want?" Charles asked, and Y/N frowned.

"We have to stop Raven. I need your help. We need your help." The man said, and Y/N stared at Charles, heart breaking at the pained look on his face. He looked down. She knew how close Raven and Charles were, even mistaking it for romantic love and not sibling love. This man bringing her up did not help his case.

"I think I'd like to wake up now." He said, walking away. Y/N tried to grab his hand, but he slid out without so much as a look. She turned to see Hank's blue appearance going back to normal.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's going through some tough times." Y/N said, head down as she followed Charles' path. He was pouring himself a drink when she walked into the room. She leaned against the desk, trying to alleviate the pain in her feet from standing. She had been standing while making dinner, and she had half a thought to go finish it.

"I don't need my powers to know you're in pain. Why don't you sit down?" He suggested. She sat in his chair, close to where he was still pouring his drink. She almost put her feet on the desk, but thought better of it.

"You shouldn't drink so much. What are you going to do when the baby comes?" She asked, and he turned to see her slouching in the chair, bump stretching upwards. She had her hands around it, rubbing it, and Charles thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

It scared him to think that he was going to have to be in charge of another person soon.

"Drink more." He responded, and she frowned.

"Charles," She crossed her arms, and he turned and leaned against his desk to face her.

"You know I won't." He tried to comfort her, but she just shook her head.

"But you'll keep doing the useless treatments?" She asked, and he dropped his head.

"They aren't useless. You don't understand how hard this is for me." He said, and she rolled her eyes. She was tired of just letting this go because of him. She was hurting too.

"What, you think this is easy for me?" She asked.

be a good wife be a good wife be a good wife

The mantra repeated over and over in her head, and she took a deep breath. Charles was going through the hardest time he'd ever had in his life, and although she was too, she still needed to be there for him. It was her job.

"I'm sorry. I know this is hard." She said, and he shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"You shouldn't be the one apologizing." He said, but he left it there. Not too long after their conversation was over, the man walked into the room with Hank.

"Just let me explain myself."

~

"So they took Raven's powers and weaponized it?" Y/N asked, and Charles was already pouring himself another drink. They had only been talking for 10 minutes, and Y/N rubbed her eyes. The food she was preparing had probably gone bad now, but she knew she couldn't leave Charles alone, not while he was halfway to shitfaced before dark.

"Yep." Was all the man - Logan - said. He had explained the future, explained how the four of them were all friends and Charles and Y/N's baby had mutant abilities too, but it was a lot of information to take in.

"She is unique." Hank said.

"Yeah, she is, Hank." Charles said with a smile. Y/N looked back to Logan to continue talking while Charles walked across the room.

"Look, in the beginning, the Sentinels were just targeting mutants. Then they began to identify the genetics in non-mutants, who would eventually have mutant children and grandchildren." Logan turned to face Charles, who was now sitting on the couch. Charles looked at Y/N, and she heaved herself up, shuffling to sit next to him on the couch. He put an arm around her, then set his drink down, the other hand resting on her stomach. Y/N closed her eyes, trying to take in the moment. He was at the sweet spot, when he was drunk enough to forget that he was upset but not drunk enough to dwell in self pity.

"Many of the humans tried to help us. It was a slaughter, leaving only the worst of humanity in charge. I've been in a lot of wars. I've never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her." Logan finished, but Y/N still didn't open her eyes. She moved a hand to Charles' chest, her head resting above his heart. She never wanted this moment to end.

But then Charles removed his hand from her bump and leaned to pick up his drink, taking a swig before talking.

"Well, let's just say for the sake of," He paused, his knee starting to shake and his other hand going up to rub his eye. "The sake, that I-I choose to believe you. Raven won't listen to me." He said, leaning further into the couch and putting his arm farther down now so that he could feel her bump as well. She sighed, still not opening her eyes. "Her heart and soul belong to someone else now." Charles finished, and Y/N could tell that Hank was upset without looking at him.

She'd honestly rather be anywhere else than there at the moment.

"I know. That's why we're gonna need Magneto, too." Logan's sentence made Y/N's eyes shoot open as she looked at him with annoyance and fear, and she felt Charles tense as he chuckled.

"Erik? You do know where he is?" Hank asked, and Charles continued his breathless laugh.

"Yeah." Logan answered, and Y/N moved as Charles stood, putting his drink down and moving further away from her, laughing like a mad man.

"He's where he belongs." Charles said, making his way to the door.

"That's it? You're just gonna walk out?" Logan asked, and Y/N stood, moving to see Charles when he walked all the way out the door.

"Oh, top marks. Y/N, you were right, he is perceptive." Charles was walking backward, away from them, and Y/N knew that she wouldn't get a peaceful moment with him again until he was asleep. Then, they would start the same day over again, until she had the baby. Who knows what would happen after that.

"The professor I know would never turn his back on someone who lost their path. Especially someone he loved." Logan said as Charles was almost to the stairs. Charles then stepped back, turning to the three of them gathered to the door. Y/N started talking, but Charles talked right over her.

"You have no right to-"

"You know, I think I do remember you now. Yeah. We came to you a long time ago seeking your help. And I'm gonna say to you what you said to us then. Fuck off." Charles cut Y/N off. Before Y/N could blink, Logan grabbed Charles by his shirt and brought him close.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I've come a long way, and I've watched a lot of people die. Good people. Friends. If you're gonna wallow in self-pity and do nothing, then you're gonna watch the same thing, you understand? You wanna watch her die?" Logan jerked his head to Y/N, and her blood ran cold. Charles looked at her as Logan let go of him, and then looked back at Logan.

"We all have to die sometime." Charles said, taking a drink and turning away, walking up the stairs. Y/N felt her knees give in, but Logan caught her, leading her to the couch, where she laid blank faced.

"Told you there was no professor here." Hank said, and Logan turned to Hank.

"What the hell happened to him?" Logan asked Hank, but Y/N answered anyway.

"He lost everything. Erik, Raven, his legs. And then he finds out that not only has he lost his closest friends and is now paralyzed, he's also going to be a father." Y/N said emotionless. She was staring off, her face and mind blank. This happened often now, at times when Charles would stop caring about her. It was easier to shut herself off then deal with the pain. Hank knew what was going on, but he knew that there was nothing he could do for her, short of forcing Charles off meds.

"We built the school, the labs, this-this whole place. Then the war got worse. Many of the teachers and older students were drafted. Everything going on, it just broke him. He retreated into himself. I wanted to help, do something, so I designed the serum to help treat his spine. Derived from the same formula that helps me control my mutation. I take just enough to keep myself balanced, but," Hank trailed off as he walked around.

"He takes too much. He doesn't listen when we try to ease him back. He can't bear the pain, the voices." Y/N said, tears shrining to her eyes. As hard as she tried to bottle her emotions, it seemed the glass would always shatter and flood her mind anyways. "I want to be enough. I want him to be able to be happy without his legs, with a child, with me, but he's not. Why am I not enough?" She whispered, looking up to Logan. He sat in front of her legs on the couch.

"You are enough. He'll realize it. I promise." Logan said, thinking to his present, the world where Charles and Y/N lived almost happily ever after (minus the major wars they fought in). Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. She had barely drifted off when Charles' voice echoed through the room.

"I'll help you get her." He said, and Y/N sat up "Not for any of your future shite, but for her. And my," Charles lead off, and Y/N could tell he was trying to hold back his emotions. She stood to see him, but he didn't look at her.

"Son. For your son." Logan said, and tears immediately sprung to Y/N's eyes.

"We're having a boy?" Charles asked quietly. Y/N ran to him, and he wrapped his arms tight around her.

"I am so sorry, love." Charles said, and Y/N just shook her head against him.

She wished things would change, but change took time. She only hoped they had enough time.

~

She knew that although Charles was sorry, he was not going to stop. He was too deep now, it would take a lot more than knowing the gender of their child to get him to become sober once more. And although she wasn't allowed to go get Erik, she accompanied them on the jet to get to Raven. She despised staying alone while pregnant, and knew the others would take care of her. She'd be alright with them.

"So, you're pregnant." Erik said, looking over at Y/N. She sat on the couch with Charles, his arm around her loosely.

"Yes." Charles answered for her, and Erik continued to read the paper.

"And your powers?" Erik didn't look up again, and Charles' grip tightened on Y/N.

"The treatment for my spine affects my DNA." Charles answered simply, and Y/N cuddled closer, holding onto him tightly.

"You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?" Erik asked, and Y/N shut her eyes tightly, hands gripping Charles' shirt.

"I sacrificed my powers so that I could sleep. So that I could protect and care for my son." Charles' voice faltered, and she looked up at him.

"Charles, you can still care for the baby without your legs." Y/N said, but Charles just held onto her tighter.

"What do you know about it?" Charles shook his head, and she knew he was talking to Erik.

"I've lost my fair share." Erik said quickly. Y/N looked up at him. Had this monster really lost that much?

"Dry your eyes, Erik. It doesn't justify what you've done." Y/N said, and Charles rubbed her back and bump, trying to calm her.

"You have no idea what I've done." Erik said, and Y/N stood, Charles trying to get her to sit down. She was too enraged though, at the man who had practically taken her life from her.

"You took Charles' legs, his power. You took away the things that mean the most to him." Y/N said with tears in her eyes. Charles frowned from the side, upset that she didn't think she mattered the most, because she did, her and the baby. Erik was enraging him too, now.

"Well maybe he should have fought harder for them." Erik responded, and Charles stepped in front of Y/N, as Erik was rising from his seat.

"If you want to fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!" Charles yelled.

"Charles," Y/N said.

"Sit down!" Logan commanded. All their voices were coming at once.

"Let him come." Erik responded, and Charles lunged forward, grabbing Erik by his shirt.

"You abandoned me! You took her away and you abandoned me!" Charles yelled, and Y/N sat down, feeling sick. It was as if she didn't matter, as if she weren't even there.

"Angel. Azazel. Emma. Banshee." The plane began creaking as Erik spoke, and Logan was next to Y/N, the two of them holding onto each other as the plane shook. She fought to keep the bile rising down.

"Mutant brothers and sisters all dead!" Erik yelled, and Y/N felt Charles at her side. She clung to him as Logan clung to the couch. The plane began to tilt, and they slowly fell to the other side against the wall. Y/N felt tears in her eyes as she held on to Charles as tightly as she could.

"Erik!" Y/N yelled, but it was like he didn't hear her.

"Countless others experimented on, butchered."

"Erik!" Hank yelled from the cockpit, and Y/N let out a sob. She had never been this afraid, not even when Charles had lost his legs, or when she found out she was pregnant. She tried to resit the urge to puke, and she could feel it in the back of her mouth.

"Where were you, Charles?" Erik asked, and they began falling toward the cockpit. They let out a groan as they hit another wall, Charles holding Y/N as close as he could. "Where were you when your own people needed you? Hiding! You and Hank and Y/N! Pretending to be something you're not!" Erik yelled. They were falling at a quick rate, and Y/N let out more sobs, silently praying.

"Erik, please, she's pregnant!" Hank bargained, and as the plane went back to normal and the two fell into a seat, Y/N felt dizzy. She was resting against Charles, but she knew it wouldn't last long.

"You abandoned us all." Erik said, and then he looked straight at Y/N. "And now you're abandoning her." Erik said, and that was the snapping point for Y/N. She stumbled to the bathroom, almost tripping multiple times on the short walk. She finally made it there, where she threw up, struggling to catch her breath. She felt someone bring her hair back, and she wiped her lips before turning and looking. She expected to see Logan, but she instead saw Charles. She almost started crying again, and he held her in his arms.

In the five months she had been pregnant, Charles had never come to her aid while she was sick. She knew it was hard for him, but this showed he was getting better. Maybe one day, everything would be okay.

~

They arrived back at the mansion after an unsuccessful mission, and Y/N felt the progress that had been made being washed away as Charles began struggling. They had just walked into the mansion when Charles fell to the ground groaning.

"Charles!" Y/N shrieked, going to his side. Hank went to his other side, grabbing him.

"What happened?" Logan asked, but no one answered.

"Come on, up." Hank heaved Charles up, and Charles began panting.

"Why can't he walk?" Logan asked, and Y/N put a hand over Charles' own, which was raised to his head.

"He needs his treatment." Y/N responded, Hank placing Charles against the wall.

"Hank, Y/N, I can hear them!" Charles groaned, and Y/N's heart dropped.

"I know, baby. It's okay. It'll all be okay." Y/N responded.

"Can you make it stop?" Charles asked quietly, and Hank was already walking away.

"I'll go get it." Hank said, rushing up the stairs. Charles grunted, pressing his hands against his head. Y/N pushed his hair out of his face, kissing his forehead.

"Hey, hey! Pull yourself together. It's not over yet." Logan said, and Charles opened his eyes and put his fingers to his temple, looking at Logan. Y/N sighed, licking her lips and then turning, because she knew that Charles was about to use his powers for the first time in awhile.

"You don't believe that." Charles said, and Logan's face changed. Y/N turned back to Charles, coaxing his hand down.

"How do you know?" Logan asked, and Y/N just kept caring for Charles, trying to comfort him. It broke her heart to see him in pain like this.

"As these go," Charles put a hand on his leg. "This comes back." Charles put a hand back up to his head. He pressed both hands back to his head. "They all come back." He moaned, panting.

"Hey, it'll be okay, Charles. You're gonna be okay, baby. Look at me, it's okay. I'm here." Y/N comforted. She hoped this would be the turning point, where he wouldn't take the serum again.

"Look, she's still out there." Logan said, and Charles reached down to undo his shirt sleeve, pulling it up his arm. "But we need your help, Charles. Not like this. I need you." Logan said, and Y/N continued to push the hair out of his face.

"Charles, slow down." Y/N stopped him from fully hitching his shirt sleeve up.

"We can't find Raven; not without your powers." Logan said softly. Y/N looked at Charles, wiping the hair out of his face.

"You're strong. Stronger than anyone I know. You can do this." Y/N whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She just hoped it was enough.

"I, uh, I added a little extra because you missed a dose." Hank said as he bounded down the stairs. Y/N backed up, giving Charles room to make his decision. Charles grabbed the syringe, and Y/N turned her head, not able to watch.

"Charles." Logan warned, turning towards him. Charles aimed the syringe, and Y/N could hear his whimpers. She waited for it to be over, so when she heard Charles exhale and the clink of the syringe as he put it down, she turned to look at him. He sniffled, and she realized that he hadn't taken the shot. He looked at her, but then looked down, ashamed. Y/N grabbed his hand, and he squeezed hers, shutting his eyes tight before opening them.

"Uh, H-Hank, do me a favor. Would you help me to my study, please?" He looked so young as he shook slightly, squeezing Y/N's hand once more before letting Hank grab his arm.

"Come on, I got you." Hank told Charles. Y/N let her hand slip out of his, watching silently as the two made it to the study.

Only then did she let the tears fall.

"Y/N," Logan put a hand on her shoulder, and she lost it, falling to her knees as she sobbed. Logan kelt with her, keeping a hand on her shoulder but otherwise not getting to close. She had her hands covering her mouth, eyes squeezed tight as tears somehow still escaped.

"Thank you." She whispered through her tears, shifting to sit on the ground. She turned to face Logan now, eyes wide. "Thank you so much." She whispered. Logan nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Ya know, he would have eventually come off the serum, even if I hadn't been here. It was really you." He told her, and she just nodded. Logan helped her up, and she wiped her tears, sniffling as they made their way into the study. Charles was still shaking, sitting on a chair, and Y/N took a deep breath as she stood next to him. He slipped his hand back into her's, and this time she squeezed his as Hank opened the door.

"Are you sure about this?" Hank asked as they looked at the wheelchair in the closet.

"Absolutely not." Charles told him, but Hank got it out anyway. He helped Charles into the chair, and everyone was silent as they tried not to look at him. Hank and Logan shared an expression before leaving, Y/N sitting down in the chair across from him.

"I, um, just so you know," Y/N said, wiping her tears and hoping they wouldn't fall and cause Charles to think about it to much. "I've never cared if you could use your legs. Or, um, I never - I don't care if you don't want your powers. I just - I only want you to be happy. I don't want you to keep drinking. I don't want you to destroy yourself before your son even gets to meet you." She was struggling to keep her sobs in, and Charles reached forward and grabbed her hand.

"It's okay, Y/N, hey." Charles moved forward as much as he could to wipe her tears, and she grabbed one of his wrists.

"Charles," She whispered, and he felt the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you." He sniffled, and she turned to kiss his palm. "I know that it wasn't easy for you. I know I haven't made things easy for you. But I still love you. And I can do better. I promise to do better." Charles told her, making her let out a sob.

"I'm just happy you're still the man I fell in love with."

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @roxaya @thefandomplace @punzoquack

#young charles xavier #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier #young charles xavier x reader #x-men #x-men x reader #x men #x men x reader

[thewritingofspencerrose]

A Grid Thanksgiving

Logan Sargeant x OC

"And that closes up this wrap up for Vegas, we'll see you all next week in Abu Dhabi," an official closes, glancing around the room for someone to take the microphone from him, Logan Sargeant of all people being the one to do so, stepping on to the stage in an unusual move.

"Uh, if the grid could stick around for just a couple minutes that'd be great," the Williams driver requests, drivers left and right sharing looks.

And they wait, the crews and principles exiting the room before Logan, now without the microphone, has everyone crowd around.

"What's up kid?" Daniel is the one to ask, one brow raised at the American driver.

"I actually was sent on a mission from the missus-"

"You have a missus?" Max asks, the idea setting in over the last few races that he may not be all that young anymore.

Logan chuckles, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck with a nod. "Yeah, I'm going to try to not take that as an insult."

"That's not what he meant," Charles corrects, waving his hand. "You just do not seem as the type to settle down young and we haven't seen any woman with you around the paddock or online."

Logan knows they're right, but that doesn't change the fact that he's tired of always experiencing these assumptions.

"Welp, for eight months now we've been married, her names Brooke, and she sent me to work today with one request."

"Which was?" Oscar questions, expecting something outside the box from the woman who somehow manages his close friend.

"If you all out be available and on location next Tuesday, we've rented a rental apartment rather than a hotel room, and she was hoping you all and your significant others may be willing to join us for Thanksgiving."

"Isn't that typically on Thursdays?" Lando asks, already knowing the answer but hoping for something more.

"It is, but with the race and everything we won't be able to make it home to be with our families, so she got her heart set on cooking a traditional thanksgiving meal for all of you," Logan explains, knowing the request may be a stretch in a lot of places. As much as they respect one another, they are also all still competitors, even if Max and Red Bull had already won. "Its just an open invite, she just really loves the concept of taking a day to appreciate what you're grateful for and keeps saying she's grateful for all of you, even though she only knows you two," He finishes explaining, gesturing to Alex and Oscar. "And none of you have to come, absolutely don't feel like you've got to."

"When will you need numbers by?" Max speaks up, giving the boy a rare grin for a competitor. "I'll have to see if Kelly and P will be traveling with me."

And Logan beams, because at the very least, at least a few drivers are considering the offer.

"Sunday or Monday, Brie isn't planning to shop for anything until Monday."

Max nods, a simple gesture to wrap up the impromptu meeting.

——————————————————————————————————

"Baby, you said to invite the grid, why are you so surprised?" Lo questions with a chuckle, making me want to throw my whisk at him/

"Because I wasn't expecting a good chunk of them to text saying yes! How does Lewis Hamilton even have my number?!"

"He asked me for it so I sent it in the driver's chat," He explains simply, taking a finished dish from my hands to the kitchen island that we set up as a buffet. "Who ended up being available?"

"Carlos, Charles and Alex, Lando, Oscar and Lily, Lewis, Max with Kelly and P, Pierre and Kika, Yuki, George and Carmen, and Alex and Lily," I list smiling brightly at how bustling this home will be in no more than half an hour. "Valterri and the Haas men texted saying they would love to come but they were going home for a beat instead of straight here," I explain, scooping the whipped topping into the bag and twisting it shut.

"Wow, half the grid, good job Baby," Lo compliments, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my temple.

"You're just lucky I didn't invite your boss just to get more baby snuggles," I can't help but jest, but he doesn't look remotely upset at the idea, smiling with a look in his eyes that I just can't place. "What's that look for?"

"You act like I wouldn't love to see you wondering around with a baby, although I'd prefer it to be ours," He admits, making my heart soar. It's before I can answer however that the doorbell rings, calling him away from a conversation we've had many times.

"Brie!" Lily exclaims as Oscar quietly follows her in, Lando following his teammate.

"Lils, it's been too long," I greet her with a hug, pulling both of the Mclaren drivers into hugs as well. "You need to come to more races, I'm always lonely."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Kelly asks, announcing her little family's arrival, Max clapping Lo on the back as her little girl runs into my legs.

"B!"

"P! I've missed you sweetie," I coo, pulling her onto my hip and kissing her cheek, hugging Kelly and Max.

"P, what do we say to Brie and Logan?" Max prompts, smiling softly at his little girl and I.

"Thank you for inviting us to your American holiday!" She thanks, kissing my cheek before fist bumping Lo.

"I am so happy you all could come," I assure, looking around the progressively filling kitchen. "I love that we're all able to be together for one of my favorite holidays."

She smiles brightly, Max coming up to take her from me with the reasoning that I should be greeting guests as Alex and his Lily walk in, the Lily's being introduced.

And I can't help but smile around me, my heart warm as Lo joins me, wrapping me in his arms.

"Is this everything you wanted?" He asks, words whispering in my ear as he leans on my shoulder.

"Everything and more Lo, everything and more."

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 #logan sargeant #ls2 #williams f1 #sports fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

[idkiwasntsupposedtobebackhere]

super popular gilmore girls takes i disagree with:

”younger jess didn’t deserve younger rory, older rory didn’t deserve older jess”

they both went through rough patches that caused them to hurt people and not be the best versions of themselves but they still were the same people all their lives, there’s no ”chilton rory” and ”yale rory” here. and THE WHOLE APPEAL of rory and jess is that they don’t judge eachother and don’t see eachother the way the rest of the world does. now speaking off…

”chilton rory>yale rory”

rory gets too much shit. can we stop idealizing her child self and start realizing that being a young adult is hard. also words like ungrateful, spoiled and priviliged are thrown around and eh… rory actually seems appreciative of her very humble past and has many lovely qualities like not caring about other people’s opinions and making her own judgement. and you do know that ”she threw away everything her mom gave her” is the argument emily apologists use right? rory remains who she is even after she is thrown into a world of privilige overnight, which is admirable. ofc she has her moments but in general.

”lorelai hated jess because she saw herself in him”

my girl lorelai isn’t self relective enough for this, she hates jess bc he’s a threat to the perfect life she wants for her perfect daughter (a life she didn’t get). she thinks rory is just like her and will go wild if she doesn’t shield her from it. she doesn’t get that rory will have her own experiences that she’s not familiar with and won’t understand. but she will. not everything in rory’s life will have something to do with lorelai’s. which leads me to…

”rory’s love interest xyz represents lorelai’s love interest xyz”

rory and lorelai’s love lives don’t mirror eachother, asp, because they are very different people who want very different things in partners and in life. someone being the best guy for lorelai doesn’t equal a younger version of that guy would be the perfect guy for rory. forced parallels are forced. because of her cold and wealthy childhood, lorelai wants a simple, humble life with a stable and loving guy. rory is drawn to intellectualism and travel, the unknown. different to what both lorelai wants and what the grandparents want (marriage between two freshly ivy league graduated people). i think you know what i’m sayinggg

”rory should have said yes to logan, she loved him”

if logan didn’t understand that this wasn’t something rory wanted, they didn’t have a stable enough foundation to build a life on anyways. yes, she loved him but she didn’t want to get married at 22. i don’t know why people wanted this for rory when it’s just as bad of an idea as dean or lane getting married young.

”jess was disrespectful to lorelai so she had the right to hate him”

ok he was but lorelai feeling entitled to talk to jess about how lucky he was to have been dumped with his uncle a couple of hours ago was just bad. that was not her place, and she shouldn’t have been surprised that he didn’t respond well. and it’s the way she goes about her disliking of him. i just can’t understand people who think an adult yelling at and openly snarking at a teen is anything but immature. i just watched the episode with dean’s ugly bracelet and her calling jess a ”little jerk” to his face is just crazy

”team lorelai/team rory”

i feel like people think that i don’t like lorelai because i’m on jess’ side when they fight but he’s just the exception. i think lorelai can be emotionally intelligent and i’m on her side with her parents, luke, her other bfs, sookie & michel etc. generally i enjoy her more than rory. but unlike a lot of the people who like lorelai, i don’t think she’s always right when she’s fighting with rory. it’s pretty 50/50. i don’t really have an opinion there. i don’t see them as being against each other. and during The Big Fight, i think everyone involved acted horribly. except for jess❤️ ok that’s it.

#gilmore girls #jess mariano

[zalrb]

I don’t know what to think of Logan and Marcia. Because I get why they’d be in to each other, why they’d marry each other and stay married. Logan has money and Marcia is composed, clever, and conniving and I think Logan would like that (so long as she didn’t attempt to usurp him). I never got the vibe that there were any real feelings involved, which is why I was so surprised that Marcia left Logan after Rhea (controversial opinion, but I don’t think Logan and Rhea were ever a thing, Rhea seems too well-adjusted for that IMO). I can get Marcia’s cattiness with Kerry, and obviously I get Logan fucking around but I never understood why it was with Kerry because she brings nothing to the table the way Marcia, Rhea, and even Caroline do.

I’m also interested in her loyalty to Logan. Part of it was that he had all the power, but Marcia’s very big on betrayal and even used the word “traitors” a few times, which made it seem more personal.

I’m curious about why Shiv dislikes her so much (but Shiv hates everyone, so…) and I’m interested in Marcia’s beef with Willa and her weird kinship with Greg. I think Marcia thinks people see her as an older Willa and resents that bc they’re on different levels but I do not get why anyone but Tom would like Greg lmao.

Logan and Rhea weren't sexually involved

and she was also clearly playing him

but I think it's clear they were still a thing

especially because being romantically involved with someone and playing them is kind of expected in this world at least to Logan, he says it about Marcia

and it's to the point that Logan doesn't know if his judgment is impaired because he's so swept up in her

which also happens with Kerry, he pushes for her to become an anchor

and it's only when he repeatedly sees how people are making fun of her audition tape that he's like OK well kill it

which is actually an interesting aspect of Logan, particularly since he can eventually admit to being worried about not thinking clearly because he's infatuated with a woman

Marcia leaves because Logan isn't discreet, everyone knows that he's infatuated with Rhea and it's even worse than with Sally-Anne, and she has a sense of dignity. It's one thing to have affairs, it's another thing to flaunt them

It's also interesting you never got the vibe that there were real feelings involved with Marcia and Logan when I thought it existed at one point because one of the most, if not the most, vulnerable scenes we see of him when he's alive is with her

yet I don't think loyalty is why she stayed, they negotiated more money and more power in the company for her in season 3 when Logan asks her not to divorce him because of the optics, they had an arrangement

In terms of Kerry, it's interesting because she kind of just shows up one episode and then her screen time grows with each season little by little and we don't have much backstory but when we see her talk to Greg we do see her have the same type of sharpness, no bullshitting attitude

while also being someone who is taking care of him, like Marcia isn't there anymore, he isn't going to rely on his kids, so not only does she sometimes act as an intermediary and a translator to the siblings,

she's doing the things Marcia used to do, like when she knows about his UTI plus she's young and ambitious and probably won't say "awesome" too much.

Shiv's dislike of Marcia comes down to power plays and control and who has more of it. Shiv likes to try and take control of situations and she's repeatedly told to stay in her lane by Logan or by Kendall,

even by Roman (though I'm thinking more of this latest episode)

and that's something she continuously navigates abd pushes back against but she's used to it coming from her brothers and her father and men but then there's Marcia -- and to Shiv, who is Marcia, really? just some other woman -- who plainly tells her that she's not in control

and that's also coupled with the access Marcia has/had to Logan that Shiv couldn't/can't get her own father

like when she wants to go see him after he comes out of the hospital and Marcia won't let her upstairs, Shiv talks to the staff and says "I'm Logan's daughter, I just wanted to thank you for all you do" as a way to establish that she's the authority and they should be taking their cues from her not Marcia

combined with the fact that unlike the old guard who will act sycophantic, Marcia expresses the contempt she has and it's specifically to Shiv about Shiv

#succession #marcia roy #shiv roy #logan roy #kerry castellabate

[highjayo]

Part Three of the Manhunt Trio at Bullworth

the boys are outside, what are they gonna do (probably murder someone)

As Daniel's feet hit the ground, fear immediately took over him. This was a bad decision, but they were already outside, they couldn't just turn back now.

Bullworth looked different under the moonlight; most of the lights that long ago shined, were burnt out with no one caring to change them. It felt weird to not hear someone crying out in pain or a prefect rushing to beat a student that had just broken the rules. Daniel didn't like the quietness.

"Picked a great night to do this, no officers means less assholes we gotta deal with." Leo chimed in, taking in the darkened school. Seriously, how could the prefects see anyone or anything even with their flashlights.

"We'll only be out here for a couple minutes, right Leo?" The aforementioned young man waved his hand dismissively, making his way towards the main building.

"Mhm, sure, a few minutes. Cash, why don't you grab one of those dicks and show me what you did the Raiden?" And there it was; the real reason he wanted to out here, to see how Cash murders people.

Cash didn't say anything to Leo like always, but he did follow behind him, with Daniel in tow. The campus somehow seemed more meancing with barely any lights; but c'mon, is Mr. Starkweather really that cheap that he can't fix the lights?

"Weird. There's no patrols tonight; did you murder the prefects already, Cash?" He didn't respond, just continued walking. Though Daniel did find it concerning, where did they go?

The trio made it to the main building with a single light on coming from the third floor. Maybe all the prefects were up there?

"Must be where those assholes are; probably meeting with that old, weird fucker to figure out what to about us." A knot formed in Daniel's stomach; they should turn back.

"Hey, maybe we should-" before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off by some prefects stomping out. Cash signaled for both of them to hide; Daniel immediately jumped in a trash can while Leo took cover behind a wall.

"Fucking Starkweather, what can Gary and Logan do I can't?"

"I told you not to bodyslam Rod into ground, but what did you do? You should be glad the police are more focused on finding the murderer"

"Whatever. He was asking for it. I'll take the library side, you take the parking lot side." Both the prefects departed, one heading towards the three. Daniel was panicking, worried about what Cash or Leo might do.

"Hey! What are you doing out?" The prefect yelled, heavy footsteps following. From his spot, he could see Leo and the prefect locked in a struggle, it looking like the bigger boy was overpowering him.

"Cash! Fucking- James fucking help!" Leo all but screamed, but Cash was no where in sight. Daniel couldn't help but feel a tiny bit bad for him; sure, he deserved to get in trouble, he was breaking the rules after all, but he'd seen first hand how violent the prefects had been getting as of late.

After a few minutes of struggle, the prefect slammed him against the wall, a sicking crack rang out as face hit the hard wall. Daniel winced as Leo howled in pain.

"Shut the fuck up Kasper." Leo was breathing heavy, still trying to fight back despite being at a disadvantage. Daniel was conflicted, should he help or stay out of it? It wasn't like him and Leo got along, hell, get along better with Cash and he barely speaks! But, he still didn't deserve to get hurt.

Without a second thought, he hopped out of his hiding spot and rushed the larger boy, only managing to make him lose his balance for a split second. The taller boy looked at him in surprise, stunned for a second.

"Lamb? What the fu-" before he could finish, arms wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard. It was Cash choking him. The prefects' eyes were starting to roll into the back of his head.

"Cash! Let him go!" He took one look at Daniel and dropped the limp body; the prefect lay still, unmoving. Daniel worried whether or not he was alive or not.

"Is he alive?" Cash only shrugged. Leo leaned against the wall holding his more than likely broken nose. Daniel moved closer to him, wanting to help but Leo held out one his bloodied hands.

"No. I'm fine." He paused. His gaze moved to Cash who stood there unfazed.

"I know you got Mac without me, asshole." Of course, that's the important thing right now. There was a very high possibility he killed a prefect and Leo's more concerned about not being involved.

"Oh for fucks sake Leo, shut your damn mouth. That's a actually person you're talking about." Leo just smiled at his outburst but Daniel was pissed.

"Let's get back before someone notices." Daniel took another look at the seemingly dead body in front of him; with barely any light around it was hard to tell if he was actually dead or unconscious.

"He's unconscious." A deep voice said. Daniel barely recognized the voice as Cash's. At least he wasn't dead.

"Aw Cash, you already going soft? It's only your second murder." Instead of responding, Cash just started walking back towards the dorm; Daniel quickly followed, not wanting to be stuck out there. Leo rolled his eyes but followed his roommates.

One at a time, the three young men climbed the garbage bin outside to get back inside the dorm. The trio slowly and quietly made their way back to their room. As Daniel sat on his bed, he thought about they were probably going to be in trouble come morning, at least him and Leo were. The prefect had seen the both of them so he'll definitely remember when he finally wakes up.

"We're so fucked." Daniel mumbled. Leo looked up from bandaging his nose to stare at him.

"Eh. Not the first school to get rid of me, though jail doesn't sound appealing." Daniel just sighed, falling back onto his bed. He looked over at Cash who was reading; how could he read casually after attempting to murder someone?

"You ok?" Leo shook his head, checking out his now bandaged nose.

"For now. I'll get it checked out by Ms. Tolliver and get some pain killers from Ralphie in the morning." The way he spoke surprised Daniel. How could he talk like tomorrow they weren't going to be in cell? Leo obviously didn't care, but he certainly did.

Daniel sighed and closed his eyes, not ready to face tomorrow.

#manhunt 2007 #manhunt 2003 #manhunt 2 #manhunt ps2 #leo kasper #daniel lamb #james earl cash

[imkylotrash]

Found A Lover

Pairing: Saul Silva x reader

Request: They are soulmates but Saul is stubborn (all the angst) and refuses to accept the bond until reader gets hurt and we get an epic love confession. @kingunder221b And She's close to graduation. Her friend, also a fairy, is really into potions, he's brilliant at that. He hides his stuff in her room and something goes wrong with his last potion. The reader is hurt and it's like in a fairy tale, she falls asleep. The difference is, she's trapped in one big nightmare and her heart will give up if they don't find a solution. They try everything, even go to Dowling, but nothing helps. The only option left is true love kiss, so they go to Silva. Anonymous

A/N Italics are the nightmares and I tried going for a little bit of a horror theme though nothing too bad. They can be skipped if that’s not your thing. I’m not sure if any of this falls under trigger warnings but please let me know if you want something added 💛

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @artsyle​ @baueoud @glowingatdawn @shadowhuntyi

There’s no denying it though Saul tries very hard to. His soulmate is not a student at the school. He refuses to believe his own eyes as you hold out your arm with the exact same scar as his. Same shape, same placement, same everything. 

“This is a mistake,” he says making it seem as though it’s somehow your fault that the universe decided that the two of you would be right for each other. 

“With that reaction I’m not exactly too fond either,” you sneer upset that he so willingly disregards you. All your life, you’d listened to people finding their soulmate and falling head over heels in love within seconds. Like they’ve been walking around blind and now they can finally see. That’s what you expected when you found your soulmate - not a grumpy old man desperate to get as far away from you as possible. 

“We should keep this information to ourselves for now,” he says and you couldn’t agree more. Why would you want to tell everyone that your soulmate refuses to acknowledge your bond? What Saul doesn’t tell you is just how terrified he is finally having found his soulmate. He’d made peace with the fact that he’d spend life alone. He’s terrified that you’re so young compared to him and that he won’t be able to give you everything that you want. He’s already raised Sky and he’s not eager to think about doing that again. The best action for him is staying away and allowing you to fall in love with someone who can be what you need. It’s just not how this soulmate thing works.

Upset from his rejection, you run straight to Logan’s room hoping he’ll be back soon so you can cry on his shoulder. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to tell him what happened but you know he won’t push you if you don’t want to talk. He doesn’t get there in time though. You have no way of knowing that the book you grab to inspect as you wait is actually a secret storage box. The weight surprises you and it slams onto the floor. Something breaks inside the book which confuses you even more. When does books contain glass. When you open the lid, a weird dust spreads making you cough violently. Your eyes water as you struggle to breathe. Within seconds, you’re lying on the floor looking as if you’re blissfully asleep. 

“Y/N!” Logan runs over to shake you awake but he knows it’s no good when he sees the smashed bottle. Without wasting another minute, he runs right out the door to find Mr. Harvey leaving you to your own worst nightmare. 

“Hello,” you call out walking down the empty hallway. It feels like you’re underground but you can’t be sure without finding a window so you keep walking. The first thing you notice when you enter the new room is the blood soaking your slippers. The white bunny slippers are now red and you feel like you might be sick. 

“Hello,” you call out once more hoping someone will hear you. 

“Hello,” someone says in a mocking tone. You spin around to find yourself standing there? Is it a mirror of some kind? 

“I’m not a mirror, you idiot. I’m you,” it says carelessly throwing a knife into the air and catching it again, “but without all the weaknesses.” You want to scream but suddenly, your mouth is sewn shut. When you reach up to touch it, you feel the thread closing your lips together. 

“I figured that was the easiest way to keep you from yelling. God, do you ever shut up?” The thing takes a few stops closer to you still clutching the knife in their hand. 

“Sorry. That was a very dentist move of me, wasn’t it? Asking you a question knowing full-well that you can’t answer.” You must’ve sprouted roots because there’s no way you’d still be standing there if you were able to move. Carefully, the copycat lifts the knife to your mouth letting the tip of the blade run across the thick thread. 

“Poor thing, huh? Not even your soulmate wants you. It’s sort of like mommy and daddy all over.” 

Your body is being transferred to Mr. Harvey’s office as well as the powder you inhaled. Logan knows exactly what potion it is but there’s no cure in the records. No cure to wake you up and it’s all his fault for not storing the potions correctly. He knew he should’ve kept them under lock and key but half the stuff in his room, he wasn’t even supposed to have. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Harvey. I never thought anyone would get hurt.” He looks down at his best friend lying on the table and he swears he’ll never be so careless with potions ever again. 

“It’ll do you no good to dwell on that now. We need all hands on deck to figure out how to wake her up again.” What he doesn’t mention is the fact that he’s not sure how much time your heart has left before it stops entirely. The stress it’s being put under is nothing like Mr. Harvey has ever seen before. 

“Fight, Y/N,” Logan whispers. 

You want to scream at yourself for bringing up mom and dad but you can’t. The knife comes to rest on your throat so that every time, you take a breath you feel the cold blade on your skin. 

“Should I be quick or slow? What do you prefer?” Once again, you try to scream but to no avail. The first cut takes you by surprise. When the copy of you brings the knife down to your chest, you get worried. Could you really kill yourself like this? 

“Blink once for quick, twice for slow.” You blink once waiting for it to be over. You don’t know why you’ve given up so easily or why you not even for a second think to use your magic but you just don’t have a fight in you. 

“Perfect.” The blade pierces your skin until it reaches your heart. You feel the heart beating faster in an attempt to persevere but it is futile. 

“I’ve tried everything, Farah. Every solution the greenhouse has to offer and nothing works.” Three days pass with Harvey working hard to reverse the potion’s effects but nothing helps. You stay asleep and your heart continues to beat itself to death. 

“Do we know who their soulmate is? We should probably inform them,” Ms. Dowling says bringing out a vague memory in Logan’s mind. He runs straight to the library hoping his theory is right. 

“Is everything okay?” He looks up to find Mr. Silva standing there.

“Y/N is hurt. I’m trying to find a cure,” Logan says grabbing the book and running straight back to Mr. Harvey but this time Mr. Silva is right behind him. 

“True love’s kiss!” Logan exclaims finding the fairy tale in the book from Earth. He shows it to Mr. Harvey and Ms. Dowling who scans over the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty. 

“Then we must find her soulmate,” Mr. Harvey says and while Logan knows it’s true, he also knows you haven’t found your soulmate yet. He’s about to open his mouth when Saul beats him to it. 

“I’m their soulmate. We just found out a couple of days ago.” He was so scared when he found out he was your soulmate but watching you lie on that table he knows he can’t let anything happen to you. It’s the reason he leans in and places a gentle kiss on your lips. The effect is almost instantly. You open your eyes very confused and terrified out of your mind. Is this another nightmare? 

“It’s okay. You’re safe,” Saul whispers holding your hand tightly. You don’t need words as you look into each other’s eyes. The love is evident even if Saul tried to run from it. Seeing you in pain like this had awoken something inside of him and he swore from that day on that he’d always protect you.

#saul silva imagine #saul silva gif #saul silva blurb #saul silva x reader #saul silva #fate the winx club #fate the winx saga #fate winx club #winx saga #winx club #fate winx #fate #fate netflix #ftws blurb #ftws imagine #ftws #winx saul silva

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1981 - the Body-Swap

The X-Men, those body-swapping mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(Uncanny X-Men 151 - 152) - by Chris Claremont and Josef Rubinstein

Emma Frost and her frenemy Ororo Munroe have not been getting along! One fateful evening, as the two quibble away, they mysteriously switch bodies and minds. Talk about your Freaky Friday! What lessons will they learn, walking a mile in one another’s shoes? And will they be able to switch back, or will they stay in each other’s bodies forever? Mutant Monday, coming soon to a cinema near you. Starring: Elizabeth Banks, Angela Bassett and Elliot Page. (PG-13)

For a moment, we’re in a proper period drama: a letter delivers ill tidings!

I love that Kitty’s parents are so self-involved that it took them A WHOLE YEAR to realize that it’s weird that Kitty is the only non-adult attending the Xavier Institute.

I can only assume the mailman interrupted a pool party of some kind? Or a communal shower? I get why Kurt would not swim a lot - all that fur - but did Scott wear that while they were splashing around? Was it a beach volleyball competition where one half got to wear swimsuits and the other half superhero costumes? Most importantly, was Scott’s costume always this tight?

Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

The awful thing is that Kitty’s parents are transferring her to the Massachusetts Academy, not realizing that headmistress Emma Frost is, in fact, a terrible human being. Charles, uncharacteristically, says that changing their minds telepathically is a line he does not cross (any more) and half the viewing audience bursts out in laughter. More importantly, last they saw Emma, she was kind of dead-by-Phoenix, so it might be better there this time? Kitty does a Classic Teenage Stomp-Off and Storm comes to comfort her. Kitty cries that life is unfair (“My parents are only doing this because they’re splitting up”) and Ororo tells her that yes, life is unfair. You just gotta roll with the punches as best you can.

To be fair, bald men are technically all cheek, so it doesn’t matter where you kiss them.

While I enjoy the relationship Kitty has with the other X-Men (Scott gave her a compliment! Logan told her his name!), especially the mother-daughter-bond she shares with Ororo, the whole Piotr-thing always gives me pause. Even if we’re being very generous with age, Kitty is, what? 14 going on 15? And Piotr is… 19? At best? I get why Kitty would have a crush on him: he’s a gentle hunky giant: at fifteen, my teenage ass would have felt the exact same viz-a-viz Colossus’ upper arms. The fact that Piotr reciprocates feels skeevy, though, especially because they’re always treated like star-crossed idiots these days.

Skee-vy.

Ororo drives Kitty to Massachusetts, where her young ward is greeted by someone named Muffy and whisked away for orientation. All seems well. Ororo stands in a parlour, surveying the grounds and considering that they should have fought harder for Kitty. Still, nothing seems too wrong just yet: this Academy just seems very preppy.

Not-at-all-dead Emma takes her cue and jumps out, saying (essentially): “Surprise motherfucker.”

There’s a flash of light, and then...

I’m willing to bet that Emma’s EVIL journal has the following to-do-list: - Steal Storm’s body. - Experiment with her powers. - See how good Storm looks in white. (Leather? Fur?! Both!??) - REWARD: Smoke break.

I wonder if Emma’s plan hinged on being able to body-swap with Storm, or whether any X-Man would have sufficed. Was her original target Xavier? Cyclops? What if one of Kitty’s parents had brought her to Massachusetts, would she have taken Kitty instead?

In a locked cell, Storm wakes up in Emma’s body and is horrified. I wonder why Emma didn’t take any more precautions. Couldn’t the guy who made the freaky friday-gizmo also make a power dampener to nullify not!Emma’s telepathic abilities? Or did Emma count on her victim being so utterly incapacitated by her mind-powers that they’d be driven mad? (This would actually tie in with some of Emma’s later-revealed history: when her powers first emerged, she also got locked away in a padded room because of her madness.)

Emma is not wrong, by the way: Storm can’t get a handle on Emma’s powers. What follows is possibly the sweetest moment in an arc filled with sweet moments:

This arc isn’t drawn by any of the regulars - not Byrne, not Cockrum - but Josef Rubinstein brings his own kind of panache to the pages. I love the way he draws women’s faces: in a story that’s all about women, their faces are actually distinguishable. Kudoz.

Emma, meanwhile, coordinates with Sebastian Shaw to execute the second part of their two-pronged attack on the X-Men. They both laugh evilly in their phones while the mansion is attacked by Sentinels! These androids take out Cyclops and Xavier with some sleeping gas and knock out Nightcrawler, but the rest of the X-Men manage to trounce these robots. Then ‘Storm’ appears! She zaps the rest of the X-Men (and Amanda Sefton), successfully finishing their master-plan.

It’s not entirely clear what the Hellfire Club wants with the X-Men this time, but I’m assuming it’s more experimentation to improve the sentinels? Eh, doesn’t matter! Nefarious Hellfire Club is nefarious.

The real Storm, meanwhile, comes to claim Kitty, forgetting that she looks like the one and only Emma Frost. Kitty spooks and Storm accidentally reaches out, knocking her out telepathically. Whoops! Storm takes Kitty and flees in a car, while Emma gives chase. (How dare Ororo run off with her body, which is absolutely the kind of hypocritical hilariousness we all love Emma for.)

Kitty awakens and jumps from the car, causing Storm to swerve and...

JETSTREAM!? Speaking of which, where are the Hellions in all of this?

Kitty sees that an unconscious ‘Emma’ is about to burn to a tender and moist little crisp and she is faced with the hero’s dilemma: would you save a villain that would never save you?

Emma, meanwhile, has realized the downside to body-swapping: somebody else gets to run around with your body too. Shaw, of all people, talks her down from her anger.

You can’t just introduce a persona exchange gun to the plot WITHOUT EXPLAINING WHERE THE FUCK YOU GOT IT FROM.

My favorite detail is that Emma keeps calling Kitty brat, like she’s some sort of Pokémon-villain.

Kitty, meanwhile, has saved ‘Emma’ and tied her up with a special knot. Storm tries to convince Kitty, going for the “ask me something only Storm would know”, but Kitty’s all: “Duh, you’re a telepath.” Ororo insists, but the thing that clinches it is when she breaks free of her ties without breaking a sweat. That knot was taught to Kitty by Ororo and she’d be the only one who knew how to break out of it.

Storm and Kitty recruit Stevie Hunter to come pick them up and during the ride, Storm-being-angry-mother!Storm convinces Kitty more than anything else:

After all, Storm was voted most likely to say: “If you don’t stop this nonsense immediately, I will turn this Blackbird around, so help me God!”

Ororo and Kitty sneak inside. Ororo even uses Emma’s telepathy to help her pick a lock after phasing through a door. (Kind of funny: Kitty’s still such a neophyte that she can’t even phase with anyone else yet.) Emma, meanwhile, taunts the captured X-Men, presenting herself as the new white queen:

Anybody feel the inclination to point out that the Hellfire Club did this exact same thing last year, except then they tried it with a redhead?

I secretly suspect that the Hellfire Club’s plots always revolve around seducing X-Men to their side and dressing them up in sexy lingerie. (Which: fair.) There’s also a subplot where the guys Wolverine cut apart last year want to exact revenge on him for being made bionic, but eh. We’ll start paying attention to them when they become actual Reavers.

Kitty phases through the locks of the X-Men, freeing them, and a kerfuffle ensues. Emma starts using Storm’s powers, but they grow out of control. Colossus tosses Shaw out of the window - which should just be company policy, really: all Shaws should be defenestrated - where he’s promptly hit by a rogue thunderbolt.

When he doesn’t get up, Emma starts to lose it. The weather goes wild. Storm intervenes, using her telepathic power to help calm down Emma (and the raging storm), but she also manages to get a hold of the swap-gun. There’s a zap, and with a satisfied sigh, the status-quo is restored again.

My favorite implication is that, apparently, Emma decides which school Kitty attends and not her parents.

While this little arc is neither the most iconic nor the most profound of 1981 -- those would be Days of Future Past and I, Magneto, respectively -- I still love this for a couple of reasons.

As a lover of Freaky Friday, 17 Again and the new Jumanji-film, I just have a soft spot for body swap plots. (Hi Psylocke!)

It focuses on the Xavier Institute as a school, planting seeds for the upcoming New Mutants.

It is very female-driven without beating you over the head with it. (Looking at you, Birds of Prey.)

It has three definitive main characters, who all get fleshed out in fun and interesting ways. It starts the trend of robbing Ororo of some of her powers and tossing her into against-the-odds circumstances, only for her to come out on top.

It solidifies the Storm/Kitty mother/daughter (or older/younger sibling) dynamic. Kitty is a believable teenager when it comes to Storm - clever and kind, but also looking for answers and prone to rash decisions - and I love how much they care for each other.

Jean/Storm-friendship-callback, yay!

Emma gets fleshed out as a villain. Resourceful and petty, powerful and vain. It’s no wonder she’s one of the break-out antagonists of the X-Men, because, like Magneto, Claremont is not afraid of giving her depth. Arguably, she is the most three-dimensional of the Hellfire Club at this point.

Yay! And fuck completely sensible plots, if you don’t know what to do with your plot, just introduce a random persona exchange gun. Let’s use it on Xavier and Legion in Way of X next!

#x-men abridged #abridged x-men #x-men #storm #professor x #kitty pryde #uncanny x-men #emma frost #cyclops #nightcrawler #stevie hunter #colossus #sebastian shaw

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 21/23

This fic is next on my list to complete, so wish me luck! Last time, Gold and Lacey danced, and Lacey got Gold to agree to be interviewed. Here's what happened next :)

[AO3]

-

Lacey smoothed her dress over her hips, turning this way and that before the mirror. She was wearing a white summer dress with a flared skirt, her feet in white strappy wedges and her hair tied up. It wasn’t the sort of outfit she usually wore to conduct interviews, but there again this wasn’t one of her usual interviews. She was not about to ask one of Storybrooke’s elderly residents about her success in growing pumpkins or making preserves. She was going to be asking Mr Gold about his life, interests and passions. And with any luck, she’d be able to experience a few of those passions for herself.

She hadn’t seen Gold since the dance, but she could still remember the way he had felt pressed against her and the scent of his cologne in her nose. She had been excited about the interview ever since, and the possibility of getting even closer to him once it was done. Ruby had teased her only a little before telling her to remember to take condoms. Just in case.

She took a final glance at her reflection, nodded decisively, and snatched up the bag with her recording equipment and notebook, throwing the strap over her shoulder. Let’s do this.

The walk to Gold’s house from her own took less than a minute, which gave her no time to be nervous, and she stomped up onto the porch and knocked on the door. He answered promptly, a tiny smile on his face, and she felt her heart thump at the gleam in his eyes.

“Miss French,” he said pleasantly. “Do come in.”

He was wearing one of his suits, black with a dark blue silk shirt and a burgundy silk tie. The shirt had a faint damask pattern, and she found that her eyes were scouring it, running over the lean lines of his body. She hurriedly raised her eyes to his to find him gazing at her steadily. Lacey bit her lip, hoping she wouldn’t blush.

“Hey,” she said quickly. “Uh - thanks for agreeing to do this.”

“You were rather persuasive, as I recall.”

“I’ve been called worse,” she said, and he chuckled, stepping aside to let her in.

“I thought we could use the study for this,” he said. “It’s down the hallway and to your left, but you’re welcome to look around.”

She sent him a smile, stepping past him and hearing him close the door behind her with a soft click as she moved left.

“I was just making some tea,” he said. “May I offer you some?”

“Uh - yeah, thanks.”

He nodded and turned away, and she heard the click of his cane as he headed for the kitchen. An open door led to the lounge, and she couldn’t resist taking a look inside, trying to imagine him relaxing there, with a book and a glass of whisky, and Darcy curled on the rug at his feet. The house was as she imagined, clean and neat, filled with beautiful things, and somehow out of its time. It smelled of beeswax and leather and some woody, earthy scent that she couldn’t quite place. The furniture seemed to be entirely antique, gleaming wood and polished brass and silk brocade, shelves set with porcelain figurines and delicate glass vases.

Lacey stepped back from peering inside the lounge, and headed slowly down the hall, heels clicking on the wooden floor. She let her eyes flick left to right, taking in the surroundings as she went, and her mouth curved upwards in a smile as she turned into what he had called the study. Bookshelves covered two of the walls, a bay window looking out over neat gardens and double glass doors which opened out onto a porch. A heavy desk sat on the wall opposite, a brass lamp to one side and a vase of deep red roses on the other.

She could hear him clattering around in the kitchen, and walked slowly around the room, eyes scanning the shelves. He had books on a wide range of subjects: volumes on antiques, art and ceramics took up one shelf, and there were books on history, law and politics. Novels made up the bulk of his collection, from what she could see, a mixture of classics and modern authors. He had three copies of Pride and Prejudice with different covers. There again, so did she. There were even some children’s books on one shelf, and she remembered that he had a young grandson. The thought of him choosing books so that his grandson might one day enjoy them made her smile.

“Here we are, then.”

Gold’s voice and the clink of china made her look around, and he entered the room with a tray balanced in one arm, shaking his head as she hurried forward.

“I’m used to getting around on my own, don’t concern yourself,” he said, and bent to slide the tray onto the small table in the bay window. The teapot, cups and saucers wobbled a little, but nothing spilled. Relieved, Lacey turned back to the bookshelves, eyeing a carved wooden bookend in the shape of an owl.

“You have some nice things,” she said. “Stock or personal?”

“Most of it’s personal,” he said from behind her. “I do rotate a few pieces between my home and the shop, but I find that if I like something enough to bring it into my home, it tends to stay there.”

Lacey turned on her toes to face him. He was standing by the window, both hands on the handle of his cane, watching her.

“Well,” she said. “I guess we should make a start.”

She spent a couple of minutes setting up her recording equipment and taking out her notebook and pencil. There were two chairs in the bay window, wing back armchairs in oxblood leather that creaked as she sat down. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, and she shifted position, tugging at the skirt of her dress and arranging it over her thighs. Gold lowered himself into the chair opposite, and Lacey pressed play on the recording equipment.

“Interview with Mr Gold, Sunday, July eighteenth at”—Lacey checked her watch—”four-oh-nine.”

She sat back and crossed her legs, meeting Gold’s eyes.

“Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Mr Gold,” she said.

“My pleasure, Miss French.”

His voice was a low rumble, and Lacey squeezed her thighs together, clearing her throat as she did so. She wondered if he knew the effect his voice had on her.

“I thought we’d start with some of your personal history,” she said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Ask your questions,” he said.

“You promised to answer all of them, right?” she said, and he lifted one shoulder and let it fall in a lazy shrug.

“A deal’s a deal.”

“Right.”

Lacey glanced down at her notebook, where she had scribbled some of things she wanted to raise.

“So, Logan Gold, born in Glasgow, moved to the US in 1993,” she said. “Studied first at Oxford, then at Harvard, and became a lawyer. Got married, had a son and eventually obtained full custody following a pretty vicious divorce. Worked in New York for several large legal firms before settling down in the sleepy small town of Storybrooke in Maine to run a pawn shop. Quite a change of pace.”

A flick of Gold’s eyebrow was the only indication of surprise.

“You’ve done your homework,” he observed, and she shrugged.

“That’s my job.”

Gold raised a finger.

“You forgot to mention my extensive property empire,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to stroke your ego, is that it?”

He showed his teeth.

“I wouldn’t want you to be accused of being anything but thorough.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “You run a pawn shop and own most of the property in town, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Well, we seem to have concluded the whistle-stop tour of my life,” he remarked. “Perhaps the interview is over.”

“Hey, not so fast!” she said immediately, making him grin. “I was just getting the dull stuff out of the way.”

Gold inclined his head.

“Ask your questions, Miss French.”

“Okay.” Lacey glanced down at her notes, her heart thudding a little. “Uh - what made you move to the US?”

“Work, mostly,” he said. “As you have already mentioned, I studied law at Oxford, and knew I wanted to pursue it as a career. I was fortunate enough to get a scholarship to study at Harvard, and I’ve been in the US ever since.”

“How easy did you find it to adjust to living in a new country?”

He pulled a face.

“It wasn’t so bad,” he said. “Perhaps because I was so busy with my studies, and then work. I didn’t have a lot of time for anything else. I think maybe it was harder to adjust when I moved out of the city. Being in New York is nothing like being in Storybrooke.”

“In what way?”

“Every way,” he said. “The pace of life is far slower, which is mostly a relief, but irritating when you want something done quickly. People are friendly, and want to get to know you. They stop to talk to you in the street, and greet you with some sort of sincerity.”

“The horror,” she remarked, and he grinned.

“Let’s just say I never did get used to that side of things.”

“Never tempted to move back?”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I’m content to stay here.”

“And what about going back to Scotland?”

“I’ve been back a few times,” he said. “It’s changed a lot over the years. I still like to visit, but my home is here now. I’d only go back if my family decided to.”

“Your son, right?” she said. “And you have a grandson.”

“Yes. Henry.” Gold smiled faintly. “My son and his wife have spent their entire lives in the US. They’re very settled here, so I can’t see them wanting to leave, and I would never leave without them. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Miss French.”

Good.

Aloud she said: “Family’s important to you, then.”

“The most important thing in my life,” he said, with a sincerity that touched her. “I know I’ve made a lot of money, and when you consider where I came from, I imagine I’ve made a success of my life. But my family is what matters.”

Lacey tapped her pencil against her lips.

“You never remarried,” she said. “Why not?”

Gold didn’t answer immediately. He sat forward, reaching for the teapot. Lacey watched tea pour in a thin, amber stream, and he pushed a cup and saucer towards her before adding a little milk to his own tea and stirring.

“I believe you used the words ‘vicious divorce’,” he said. “I have to say that is something of an understatement. I’m afraid it rather put me off the idea of relationships.”

Lacey felt something inside her turn to stone and fall into the pit of her stomach.

“Oh,” she said. “Completely?”

Gold pulled a face, taking a sip of tea.

“Let’s just say that my son and daughter-in-law have been pestering me about dating for years and I have only recently started to entertain the idea.”

He held her gaze for a moment, and Lacey felt her heart lighten.

“Sounds as though they care about you a lot,” she observed, and he smiled.

“Yes. As I tell myself when I find their interference particularly irritating.”

She chuckled a little, and decided to change the subject.

“So why antiques?” she said, and Gold smiled, setting his cup in its saucer.

“Antiques give you a taste of other people’s lives,” he said. “Each piece in my shop has a story behind it. Someone owned it before it came to me. Perhaps it was a cherished object, set on a shelf of a display cabinet and taken out and admired. Perhaps it was wrapped in newspaper and shoved into a packing crate and ignored. Either way it’s all history, all a part of other people’s existences.”

Lacey smiled, somewhat entranced by the sound of his voice.

“It’s strange,” she said. “I didn’t think you liked people all that much.”

That tiny smile again.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t find them interesting.”

“But to go from being a top lawyer to running a shop,” she said. “It must have been a hell of a change of pace.”

“The shop’s just a hobby, really,” he said. “I enjoy it, but it’s not where I make my money. The rental business is my chief source of income, and what takes up most of my time. Scheduling repairs, arranging for renovation, that sort of thing.”

“So, no plans to expand outside Storybrooke?” she asked, and he let out a short laugh.

“No no, I’m trying to concentrate on the town itself,” he said. “You may be aware of the local entrepreneur fund that the Mayor set up last year. I’ve donated to that and provide business advice to some of those that signed up. I’ve also been involved in refurbishing some of the old warehouse buildings near the harbour. Looking to attract some local businesses there, revitalise the area.”

Lacey nodded, reaching for her tea and taking a drink.

“Very generous of you.”

“If the town prospers, so do I,” he said. “It’s good business sense, that’s all.”

“Right.” She took another drink of tea. “So we’ve covered your family, your work. I'm interested in going back to your early years, but let's deal with the present for now. What do you do in your spare time?”

Gold sat back a little, pursing his lips.

“I’m afraid it’s nothing very exciting,” he said. “I read a lot.”

“So I’ve seen.”

“I like to cook,” he added.

“Even when you’re on your own?” she asked. “I don’t know, I’ve been living alone for years, and sometimes it’s all I can do to throw a pizza in the oven.”

His mouth twitched.

“Well, food is a sensual pleasure,” he said, the tone of his voice lowering again. “It’s important to take your time. To savour it. Sometimes the most enjoyment comes from the time and care taken in its preparation.”

She was almost certain he was flirting with her.

“Time and care’s all very well, but if the execution sucks it’s wasted effort,” she said bluntly, and Gold grinned.

“Practice makes perfect.”

“True enough.”

He was still grinning, and she felt as though she was about two minutes away from launching herself at his crotch. She looked down at her notes to refocus.

“Okay, quick fire round,” she said. “Ten questions, don’t think too hard about the answers. Ready?”

He blinked at her, but nodded.

“Go ahead.”

“Sweet or savoury?”

“Sweet.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Tea.”

“Cats or dogs?”

“I have to choose?”

Lacey nodded in acknowledgement.

“Okay, that’s fair. Cats and dogs both rule,” she said. “Winter or summer?”

“Winter.”

“Okay…” Lacey pretended to be checking her notes. “Legs or boobs?”

“What?”

“I told you, don’t think too much!”

“Uh - legs.”

“Favourite alcoholic drink?”

“Single malt whisky.”

“Favourite thing to eat?”

The flick of an eyebrow.

“Are we talking food?” he asked, his voice a low purr, and Lacey squeezed her legs together.

“You have a dirty mind, Gold.”

“You could only consider that comment dirty if your mind was also dirty.”

“Just answer the question!”

“Lamb slow-roasted with rosemary and lots of garlic.”

Lacey felt her mouth water.

“Ugh, that sounds delicious!”

“It is.”

“Okay, focus!” She rolled her eyes, more at herself than him. “Boxers or briefs?”

He grinned at that, eyebrows twitching.

“Boxers.”

“Favourite place to visit?”

“Scotland.”

“Who do you miss right now?”

“My son.”

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause. Gold was wide-eyed and looking a little shell-shocked, as though he couldn’t believe that she had asked the question and that he had answered it. Lacey smirked, tapping her pencil on the notepad.

“Well,” she said. “That’s out of the way, then.”

Gold was silent for a moment.

“I’m going to have to insist that that question and its answer don’t make it into the Storybrooke Mirror,” he said evenly, and Lacey grinned, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, and noting the way his eyes followed the movement.

“Believe me, that’s just between us,” she said, and he looked amused.

“Thank goodness for that.”

“You’re a pretty private person, huh?” she observed.

“Extremely.”

“Don’t want anyone in town knowing your business.”

“Takes the mystery out,” he quipped.

“Uh-huh.” She sat back. “So why did you agree to do this interview?”

A tiny smile made his eyes gleam.

“Perhaps I enjoyed our time together the other night.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does that surprise you?”

“It would have surprised me a few weeks ago,” she admitted. “Our first meetings weren’t all that promising, remember?”

“First impressions can be misleading,” he said.

“I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence, and Lacey looked him up and down very deliberately.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she said. “I want to have sex with you, too.”

Gold stared at her for a moment, and then barked a laugh.

“That wasn’t a joke,” she said, and he shook his head, waving a hand.

“No, it’s just that Emma—my daughter-in-law—she said you liked me. And she knew I had feelings for you. She knew before I did.”

“She probably knew I liked you before I did, too,” remarked Lacey. “Are we both wilfully blind, or just dumb?”

Gold laughed at that, his eyes twinkling.

“Perhaps a little of both,” he said. “Although in our defence we didn’t have the most auspicious start, did we?”

“I don’t know, I got to see you naked,” she said. “Got that out of the way.”

Gold laughed again, and Lacey put her head to the side.

“So when did your opinion change?” she asked. “Pretty sure you found me annoying as hell to start with.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, grinning. “I’m not sure when it changed.”

“How did you know it had?”

Gold sucked his teeth, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a moment before looking back.

“I had a very vivid dream about you one night that caused me to reevaluate how I felt.”

Lacey sat forward, feeling her mouth drop open.

“A dream?”

“Very. Vivid,” he said, enunciating each word, and she felt curiosity surge in her.

“What happened?”

Gold chuckled deeply.

“Oh, I’m not telling you that.”

Lacey gave him a flat look.

“Do I need to remind you about the deal we made?” she asked. “You said I could ask you anything, and you’d give me an answer.”

Gold sat back, running his hands over his face with a grumbling sigh before looking through his fingers at her.

“I didn’t mean sex dreams,” he said, his tone muffled.

“Then you should have made that an explicit term, Mr Hot-Shot Lawyer,” she countered. “And you can’t drop ‘sex dreams’ on me and then say nothing, no fair.”

He sighed again, and let his hands drop to his lap, his expression one of rueful amusement.

“Fine,” he said. “But turn off the tape.”

Lacey reached for the recording equipment, smirking at him.

“What’s the matter, don’t you trust me?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s more the unintended consequences of having this conversation recorded that’s bothering me. Fate has a twisted sense of humour, after all. With my luck it would accidentally end up being broadcast on Radio FTL’s Good Morning Storybrooke in place of the weather forecast, or something.”

“True enough,” she agreed, and switched off the recording before setting her notepad aside and turning to face him. “So. About this dream.”

Gold grumbled again.

“God, this is excruciating,” he muttered, and Lacey smirked.

“Well, you know what they say,” she said. “If you’re uncomfortable, just picture your audience naked.”

Gold stared at her, and burst out laughing again. Lacey grinned.

“Good, I can make you laugh,” she said. “Come on, tell me how we got our sexy on.”

“God, that makes it sound even worse,” he sighed.

“I’m waiting.”

Another sigh, and he ran a hand over his mouth, shaking his hair back.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “I dreamt that you came to the shop while I was going through my ledgers. You were dressed in a - uh - very tight black dress and very high heels, and you took my hand, led me into the back room, and - and went down on me.”

He seemed uncomfortable, his eyes looking everywhere but at hers, as though he were ashamed. Lacey pursed her lips.

“Huh,” she said. “I think I’ve had that same dream.”

Gold laughed out loud, shaking his head and grinning.

“You constantly surprise me, Miss French,” he said.

“Good.” Lacey pushed slowly to her feet. “Let me see if I can keep doing that.”

She took a step towards him, then another, and sank down on her knees on the rug, sitting on her heels and putting her hands on his thighs. Gold’s breathing had quickened, his nostrils flaring a little, his eyes dark and deep.

“So,” said Lacey softly. “I got on my knees, hmm?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

She slid her hands slowly up his thighs, rising up on her knees and gently pushing his legs apart.

“Like this?”

Gold swallowed hard. His hands were resting on his thighs, the fingers twitching a little, as though they ached to touch her.

“A - a little.”

“Hmm.” She shifted forward, pushing between his legs, hands sliding further up until her fingertips brushed along the edge of his waistcoat. “And then what happened?”

Gold licked his lips, his breathing unsteady.

“To my great regret,” he said. “I woke up.”

Lacey let out a soft laugh, catching his eyes with hers.

“Well then,” she said. “I guess we’ll have to improvise.”

She had shifted forward, her body pressed up against his groin, her fingers stroking his sides, and her mouth was almost close enough to touch his. His breath was cool against her lips, the tip of his nose just brushing against hers, and her heart was thumping hard in her chest.

“Improvise,” he whispered. “Yes.”

His hands slid up her sides, fingers trailing over the curves of her hips, her waist, her shoulders. Her own breathing had quickened, the throb of her pulse heavy in her lips, her throat, her groin. She gently brushed her lips against his, pulling his breath into her lungs, tasting his scent on her tongue, and when she opened her eyes his gaze was dark enough to make her shiver.

“Take me to bed,” she said, and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, his mouth twitching.

“Yes, Lacey,” he breathed. “Yes.”

#fic: heatstroke #golden lace fic #rumbelle fic #my fic #golden lace #rumbelle

[victoria-daydreams]

The Long Way Home

Chapter Two: Professor?

AN: It’s my birthday and I’m feeling great so I decided to post today rather than tomorrow. Thank you to everyone that has taken an interest in this story and thank you for the support!

Trigger Warnings: drug use/abuse, mentions of verbal abuse

Word Count: 1.7k

Taglist: @iloveeverything-09​, @eiferundruhe​

Chapter Three: What the Hell Happened to Him?

Hank put his head down, "Told you there was no ‘Professor’ here," he remarked with a shrug, starting to clean up a table that was covered in things.

"What the hell happened to him?" Logan asked, shocked to see his old mentor in such a state.

Hank stood in silence for a moment deliberating whether he should explain or not. With a sigh he placed a bottle down and looked at the desk below him.

"He lost everything. Raven, Erik, his legs..." Hank trailed off, thinking of someone else that he lost, but he decided it was best not to mention it. "He built the school, the labs...this whole place," he continued, pouring himself a drink. "Then, just after the first semester, the war in Vietnam got worse. Many of the teachers and older students were drafted...and it broke him. He retreated into himself, I...I wanted to help do something so I designed a serum that treated his spine. Derived from the second formula, that was for me, that controls my mutation. I take just enough to keep myself balanced but...he takes too much. I tried easing him back but he just couldn't take the pain, the voices. The treatment gives him his legs but its not enough...he's just lost too much," Hank looked back up at Logan, and smiled distantly before taking a sip from his glass.

Upstairs, Charles was pouring himself a drink, in an attempt to forget the memories he didn't wish to think of. As he downed a good portion of the alcohol, suddenly, it all came rushing back, the buzzing of hushed tones he so terribly wanted to push away was beginning to torment him.

Charles' arm immediately shot out to reach for a cloth to wrap around his arm. After struggling briefly to tie it around his arm, he pulled it tight with his teeth as his hand shakily reached out to a small table where a syringe and a small vial rested upon. Charles grabbed the needle and the vial of serum before filling the needle with liquid and pressed it into his skin, letting the solution take its effects.

He laid back in his chair and looked over to his nightstand, but he had to look past the countless bottles to see it. There under the only source of light in the dark, musky room was a small, untouched framed photo of Raven. The Raven he knew. The memory of when they first met had rolled through his mind. His mind then drifted to Erik and how he stole Raven from his life. He stole Raven, made her into a completely different person.

But Erik also gave him Claudia. Charles would have probably never met her if it weren't for Erik's vendetta against Sebastian Shaw. But alas she was another loss. Charles remembered the shine in her eyes, the way her lips curved when she smiled, and how strong she seemed the way she carried herself. She was a friend to everyone she met.

Charles closed his eyes tightly, fighting back the tears and the memories of the two people he loved most. Raven and Claudia. He knew he couldn't save Raven on that beach in Cuba, but Claudia, she could've stayed.

Back downstairs, Logan couldn't but feel that Charles and Hank were tiptoeing around someone and he didn't understand why. Logan glanced down at Charles' desk noticing something that he hadn't before. A picture frame lying face down on the desk, reaching his hand out Logan grabbed the silver frame and flipped it to face him. In the picture was a young, African-American woman who couldn't have been no older than twenty-four.

She had neck length black hair that was styled in a windblown look, her bangs parted to the side. She was looking back at the camera with a wide grin, holding an ornament as she decorated a Christmas tree that was in the picture as well. The Charles he knew mentioned a woman he knew long ago before Logan made this journey, a woman who Charles cared for deeply. Claudia. That was the woman's name if Logan remembered correctly, he wondered if they were one and the same.

"So, this is Claudia," Logan commented, looking up from the picture. Hank froze. He hadn't heard that name spoken aloud in years. By the looks of Hank's expression and his reaction, Logan's suspicions were confirmed. "Heh, I didn't know the professor liked them young," he quipped, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Hank snatched the frame away from Logan.,"God, It wasn't like that," he stated, rolling his eyes. "Yes, there was an age gap, but they were very much in love with each other," Hank explained, looking down at the photo briefly and sighing. "They truly made each other happy," he added softly, before placing the photo face down on the desk again.

"What happened between them?"

"Remember that depression I told you that Charles fell into?" Hank asked, resuming his cleaning.

"Yeah,"

"Claudia was there, she was there for all of it. She tried to stick by him, she really did, but she just couldn't take it anymore," Hank paused, as he exchanged a brief look with Logan. "They fought a lot, she was sick of Charles' behavior of being a drunkard. She was tired of feeling more like a maid to Charles than the woman he claimed to love. And well Charles, one moment he's the loving man Claudia fell in love with and in the next he's a mean drunk," Hank explained, picking up empty bottles. "As tough as a woman Claudia is, I knew that some of the things that Charles said got under her skin. She was miserable here, but it all came to a tipping point in 1967," Hank continued, throwing the bottles into a trash bin.

"She left him, didn't she?"

"Yes, by the end of '67 she was gone," Hank answered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "The night she had left, it felt strangely peaceful. The atmosphere in the mansion didn't feel so heavy. That was until I heard Charles' bedroom door slam open and the both of them shouting. Claudia was done, she was over it. She told Charles that she couldn't keep pretending that they were this happy couple, so for her own sake she was leaving him. She said, if he wanted to remain on his path to self-destruction then be her guest, but she wasn't going to be apart of it. She wasted years of her life trying to help a man who doesn't want it," he recalled, shaking his head as he leaned against the desk in behind of him.

Logan frowned, "And how did Charles take that?" he questioned, feeling like he already knew the answer.

"Not well, not well at all," Hank replied, shaking his head again. "He said some pretty hurtful things to her. He told her to go ahead and leave, he didn't need her. Charles called Claudia a 'useless woman' and claimed that maybe he'd be happier if she wasn't here. I...I’ve never seen Claudia look so hurt, so betrayed in all the years I've known her," Hank looked down sadly, now crossing his arms against his chest. "She actually began to tear up and responded quietly saying 'that makes two of us' before she reached down to her finger and slid off her ring and threw it at Charles," Hank sighed, his mind replaying that night.

"Claudia, Claudia, wait! Please, Claudia, just slow down! Please, just listen-" Hank begged.

"Wait! Charles and Claudia were married?" Logan asked, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull.

"No, just engaged," Hank explained. "They dated for three years, and then Charles proposed to her in '66. As you can tell now, it didn't work out," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. "The last thing Claudia said when she left the mansion was 'this whole thing was a mistake'," Hank added, with a frown as he folded his arms against his chest.

Logan sighed looking at Hank and shook his head. He was sent here for a reason, and now he can't seem to get the job done. He was risking many people's lives if he didn't change this now.

"I'll help you get her," he heard a voice from behind. He smirked and turned around, "Not for any of your future shite, but for her," Charles announced, coming down the stairs.

Logan mused over this and nodded, "Fair enough," he agreed.

"But I'll tell you this. You don't know Erik. That man is a monster. A murderer. You think you can convince Raven to change?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "To come home? That's splendid. But what makes you think you can change him?" Charles questioned, his tone growing bitter.

"Because you and Erik sent me back here together," Charles stared at him, surprised at the unexpected words. Logan scratched the back of his head, before crossing his arms together. "You are not going to like this, but you told me, practically begged me to get Claudia as well," Logan added, waiting for Charles' reaction.

He scoffed and shook his head, "That, I cannot do,"

That was a pain he had buried away and didn't wish to dredge back up anytime soon, he felt the same for Raven and that old wound was most definitely raw now. He had managed to control his emotions now whenever Raven was mentioned, to a point. But Claudia? That was something else entirely. She was his first love, the woman he wanted to marry, the woman he almost married.

"Charles, listen to me," Logan told him, looking down. "You are going to regret this just as you did when you told me to get her. If you want to save her, this is your only chance,"

Hank frowned at his words and Charles' angry expression dropped, forming into a sad and confused expression.

"Save her?" Hank asked, asking what Charles was not able to.

Logan nodded turning to look at him, "Claudia didn't make it, she's dead," he informed, shaking his head.

"Dead?" Charles repeated, sounding suddenly breathless from this revelation.

Charles clutched at his chest and inhaled deeply, suddenly not feeling too well. Like the world around him was spinning and he was stationary, Charles closed his eyes, guilt swarming inside him.

"Claudia is dead because of me,"

Chapter Four: Recruiting for a Jailbreak

#x-men fanfiction #black fanfiction #x-men fanfic #charles xavier fanfiction #charles xavier x oc #black!oc #magneto x oc #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr fanfiction #erik lehnsherr x oc #erik lehnsherr x reader #charles xavier x reader #black!reader #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[layniapetrovnaaa]

DOFP Logan X Reader Smut

Summary: Logan travels back to the past and sees you, the reunion was not what he was expecting considering your history; but when you fail to stop Raven, you find yourself scared for the future and you feel the need for his love again.

Warnings: Smut, choking kink, swearing, mentions of drug use (just weed), mentions of alcoholism. The beginning is kinda shit, but I think I did good with the smut lmao.

"Laurie was a young lover, but he was in earnest, and meant to 'have it out', if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuousity, saying in a voice that would get choky now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady...

"I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo, couldn't help it, you've been so good to me. I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me. Now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer."

"I wanted to save you this. I thought you'd understand..." began Jo, finding it a great deal harder than she expected."—the book slammed shut.

The noise wracking the school made it hard for you to focus on your book–one that you were thoroughly enjoying–so you got up an went to go investigate.

As you exited your room and walked into the hallway, you met Charles.

"What the hell is that noise?" you asked him, agitation lacing your voice.

"I have no clue." he sighs and the two of you trudge down the stairs.

You couldn't help but snort at the sight in front of you. Hank hung from the chandelier, while his victim lay on the table below him.

"Get off the bloody chandelier Hank." the professor, who stood beside you at the top of the staircase, spoke.

You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing.

Hank jumped down and as you walked down the stairs you recognized the man.

"[Y/N]?" Logan spoke, surprised to see you again.

"What? You know him?" Hank asks, slightly out of breath.

You ignore both of them and continue to walk toward Logan until you are standing in front of him.

SMACK!

"What the hell was that for?!" he groans, bringing his hand up to is cheek, replacing where your had just briefly been. You laugh bitterly.

"What do you mean 'What the hell was that for?' You left me!" your tone was raised and angered but not quite yelling.

Charles and Hank stood there awkwardly, while Logan stood there bewildered.

"I left you?" he asks, is tone completely serious as his hand slips from his cheek.

Your laugh was sarcastic, as was your response.

"What'd you just lose your memories all of a sudden?"

Logan flinched at your words, but didn't answer.

All you could do was shake your head and grumble to yourself as you walked back up to your room, not even inquiring what he was there for.

Truth be told he didn't remember leaving you. After what happen with Stryker and losing his memories, the professor helped him to get some back, but he could only remember bits and pieces of really important events or people, and you were one of them. But he still couldn't remember much, only parts of your time together, the best parts.

***

Hank sat at the edge of the bed, you were laying on your side, your back facing him as you fiddled with the loose strands of the blanket you laid atop of.

"We talked to Logan." he states blankly, and you don't respond.

"He needs our help [Y/N]."

You scoff at that.

"Oh please.” You murmur. "What does the oh-so-great Wolverine need our help with?"

"[Y/N]" he sighs "what I'm about to say may be hard to believe, but your just going to have to trust us." he pauses, then continues "Logan was sent from the future, he needs our help to stop Raven."

At this you roll onto your back and burst into laughter. Wiping a stray tear from your right eye as your laughter starts to calm down.

"Well, I was not expecting that." you state, sitting up and slapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for cheering me up Hank." You smile before getting up off the bed and going over to your dresser to find a joint. As you are rummaging through your drawer he speaks again.

"I'm-I'm serious [Y/N]. Even the professor believes him."

You slam the drawer shut and start to search through your jewelry box that sat on top of the dresser.

"Well the professor is also an alcoholic." you state rather harshly.

"Please [Y/N], we need all the help we can get."

You let out an agitated sigh and turn around to face him.

"Fine." you point a finger at him "But if I find out that this is just some silly ass shit, I'll beat your ass.

"Yes ma'am." he smiles, his tone playful yet serious.

***

After coming back from Paris that night and watching the news saying that they had already gotten Ravens blood sample, you couldn't help but feel completely defeated. You were sure everyone else felt the same way as well.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, that when you stopped at the door in front of you, you only then realized it was not yours, it was Logan's. The door was cracked open just enough for you to peak into his room and see him smoking a cigar on his bed. After staring at the door for a few moments you decided to knock, then enter the room. He turns his head to face the door as he blows out a puff of smoke. You close the door behind you softly and he raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up." you scoff, and he cant help but chuckle as he turns his head back to face the wall in front of him and take another puff.

"I always loved the smell of those." you said softly as you walked over to the bed and sat down.

"I know." he hums as he removes his hand from from under his head to sit up against the headboard.

Your hand slides back and forth over the sheets as you stare into his eyes intently.

"Logan?..." you whisper

He puts the cigar out in the tray that rests on his bedside table. He moves to sit next to you and puts his hand atop of yours, which had stopped moving as soon as you felt his touch. The face he gives you is so sincere, almost as if he was trying to say: tell me anything and everything.

"In the future do I-" you lean into him closer.

"Don't. Don't do that to yourself kid." he says softly, but firm.

You eye his lips, and then they are crushing your own.

The kiss is passionate, so passionate, and warm. You had kissed Logan many times before, but none felt like this as he grabbed your waist, pulling you to him as close as he could given the position you were in. Your hands fly up to grip his face and push his lips harder onto yours. He balances himself on his left hand which rests behind you on the bed. Deep breathes and the smacking of lips can be heard as your mouths dance together in a sensual and loving way.

He pulls back and your foreheads rest against each other, your noses nuzzling gently.

"I'm sorry for leaving." he whispers and you can feel his breath on your lips. You pull back slightly to look into his eyes.

"I forgive you." you just couldn't stay mad at him.

The green in his hazel orbs shines bright and you wonder how you were able to live without him for so many years.

"Make love to me." you let out in a breathy whisper.

All he does in response is kiss you hard and lay you on the bed gently.

His hands travel all over your clothed body, stopping to squeeze and caress certain areas.

As his lips kiss your neck you are reminded of the first night you two had been physically intimate. It was 1953, you had gone to see the movie "Roman Holiday", it was cute. You especially liked Gregory Peck, and even though he still wouldn’t admit it, Logan was a little jealous. And so you two kinda just ended up just making-out the whole time. That's when he took you home and professed his love to you physically, and promised he would love you forever.

He sits back and pulls the dingy white tank top he was wearing off. You bit your lip as you took in the sight in front of you—Jesus—its like he was hand crafted by god himself. He leans back down over you, and fits himself nicely between your legs. Grabbing your wrists to raise them above your head as you continue to make-out.

God, could this feeling just last forever? The weight of him on top of you, consumed by his musk, and the way his lips made you feel as if you were as high as a bird, as if gravity didn't exist. 

You two sat up and you took your shirt off, having not worn a bra, you were completely exposed to him as he took off his belt and unbuttoned his pants. 

"Jesus Christ" he breathes, both his hands being immediately drawn to your breasts, he starts to fondle them and you cant help but giggle slightly at the enamored look in his face before he sits back and you straddle his lap. 

His hands caress your waist, up to your back, then down to your hips a couple of times as you starts to embrace his neck with your lips. Your hips start to move back and forth slowly, the friction almost killing you as you both let out soft moans and he grips your hips tightly.

“F-fuck” he stutters as you continue the sinful swishing of your hips. You pant softly at the feeling of your sweet spot getting some stimulation.

Logan grabs you and rolls you two over before getting up and taking his pants and underwear off, you do the same. He sits back on his knees in between your legs, admiring the sight in front of him.

“Look at this pretty pussy.” His thumb rubs up and down your thigh slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, captivated by the looks on his face, his eyes never leaving your core as he hums in satisfaction.

He leans back over you kissing your chest and flicking his tongue over your nipples. His hand slowly travels down and he starts rubbing your clit slowly.

“Aghh Logan” you moan, his middle finger dipping down to trace your hole, feeling the natural lubricant that excreted from it.

Slowly he starts to enter you with his longest finger, starting to move it inside of you. Feeling the influx of wetness he adds his ring finger.

Sighing and moaning softly into his mouth as you kissed. He always seemed to know exactly what to do to make you feel so good.

Once satisfied with how wet you had become he removes his fingers and you suck them into your mouth, remembering how that would always set him off.

His mouth hangs open as you look him in the eyes while your tongue flicks over his fingers.

Slowly he pulls them out and they release with a small wet popping noise.

“You always know how to make me fuckin’ crazy.” he groans.

His hands slide from your collarbones to your breasts, groping, jiggling, and smushing them together.

“I would die for these tits.” You laugh lightly at his statement before you bite your lip and reach out to grab his cock.

“I wanna taste you.” You hum, slowly stroking his member, maintaining eye contact as you knew that was something he loved.

“Another time baby, right now I wanna be in this tight and wet little pussy.” You release him, and sit back on your elbows.

Sighing erotically at his words you spread your legs further and he lines himself up at your entrance. He starts to slide in slowly, only going about halfway at first due to his size.

“You good baby?”

“Mhmm”

He starts to enter you fully, groaning as he does.

“Jesus fuckin Christ” he breaths, and you moan slightly, throbbing around him. You had to admit it was a bit uncomfortable due to his girth, length, and your size. But, it still felt really good having him inside of you.

He stilled for a moment after he had entered you to the hilt, feeling like it would kill him (in the best of ways) if he started to move.

Yet, he prevailed and started to set a relatively fast pace, one that made your breasts jump withe every thrust, and felt like goddamn heaven.

One of his hands took a hold of your wrist, lifting it above your head, his elbow digging into the mattress. His other hand flew to your throat and you let out and obnoxiously loud moan. Your free hand reaching down to stimulate your clitoris.

His breathing was heavy as his hips continued to buck into yours. Groaning and growling as well.

His pace slowed down for a moment and he gave you several deep, hard, and fast thrust, ones that made you grab his wrist (the one connected to the hand that was wrapped around your neck) as you squirm, moan obscenely, and dig your toes into the mattress sharply.

He starts to thrust into you faster again and he releases your neck and wrist. Running your hand down his toned abdomen, you feel the muscles tense lightly at each swish of his hips. Your arms wrap around to his back, your fingertips digging into the hard flexing muscles. Your mouth hanging open, moans escaping it every second, staring into his eyes as he fucked you.

He looks down and watches where the two of you connect and you squeeze him slightly, feeling his hips stutter when you do.

“Ohh shit baby, do that again.” You comply and he groans.

Its not long before you hear that saying you love so much.

“I’m gunna cum.” he moans out and you throb at his words. 

“Oouu fuck” you moan as his pace picks up ever so slightly, running your hands up to his neck, pulling him down to kiss you. 

You two separate and you can tell hes at his tipping point as he lets out a shaky breath.

A string of slightly high pitched, but throaty and guttural groans fall from his mouth and echo in the crook of your neck. Fuck, if that wasn't one of the most amazing noises you had ever heard...you didn't know what was. 

He stills as deep inside you as he can get while his high takes over. You moan at the noises he makes and the feeling of his load inside of you, just being completely stuffed full of him, and you squeeze him as he orgasms. 

Once he starts to come back to reality he kisses you in a dirty and sloppy manor, and pulls out of you. Your cunt clenching around nothing at the loss. 

He runs his hands down your torso before kissing your left rib, then putting his face right between your legs.

He takes a deep breath in and hums, savoring the delicious smell of your sweet wet cunt. You squirm and shutter in anticipation, remembering that this was one of Logan's favorite activities to do while you were together. 

He caresses your thighs a few times before finally giving you what you had been longing for so long.

His tongue circled your hole, dipping in a few times before flicking your clit.

He knew all of the tricks to make you absolutely melt.

He continued pleasuring you-- like no one else ever had before-- with his very skilled tongue.

“Auhh” you moan harshly as he inserts a finger into your sensitive core.

He never lets up, not even for a second. 

You never wanted the moment to end as you felt that feeling in your stomach build faster than you anticipated. 

“Oh fuck I’m close” you moan out, hips bucking up and down uncontrollably. 

“That’s it baby.” he growls, and holds your hips down so he can keep his mouth on that divine pussy. 

Finally releasing all of the wonderfully built up tension, you orgasm, and you orgasm hard. 

Everything goes white as you stay in your high for a solid 15 seconds. Your toes dug into the bed sharply as your back arched and you pulled on Logan’s hair. 

You become sensible again, and watch as he slides his finger out of you, licking it clean before doing the same to your overworked cunt. Flinching slightly as his tongue makes contact again. 

He gets up, and your immediate reaction is to tell him to stay. 

“You do realize this is my room, right?” 

You bite your lip and giggle slightly as he climbs into the bed and under the sheets. 

You snuggle into his hairy chest and let out a content sigh. 

Little did you know only a short while later he would be leaving just as before, never to see him again, until about 30 years later...

#hugh jackman #wolverine imagine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #smut #dofp #xmen dofp #xmen days of future past

[vintage-squid]

Threading Our Future

Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.

But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.

A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!

Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus  Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together  Word count: 10 363 

----- 

Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.

Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)

He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.

Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.

Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.

With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.

-----

Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.

At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.

Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.

“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”

Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.

“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”

Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”

“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”

Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”

“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”

There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”

A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”

Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.

“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”

When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.

“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.

Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.

Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.

-----

Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.

Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.

At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.

-----

Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.

Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.

In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!

Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.

Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.

“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”

“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.

“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.

“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”

As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”

At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.

-----

Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.

It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.

Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!

Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.

-----

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?

“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”

Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.

-----

When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.

Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.

At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.

Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.

“Welcome.”

Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.

“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.

There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”

“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”

“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”

“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”

“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”

“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”

Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.

Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.

The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.

-----

Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.

The door opened.

Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.

“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.

“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”

It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.

“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”

“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”

Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.

“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.

“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”

Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”

"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”

“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.

“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”

Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”

“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”

Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.

“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”

“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.

“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”

“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”

“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”

As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.

Why then had Janus?

“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”

Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”

“I - you -”

Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.

“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”

“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”

The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”

“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”

Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

-----

When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.

The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.

Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.

There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.

-----

During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.

Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -

“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”

Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.

“Thank you!”

Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.

-----

By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.

Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?

Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.

“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”

“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”

“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”

“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”

About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.

A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.

-----

As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.

Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.

Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.

While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.

Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.

“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”

Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”

“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”

With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.

“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.

“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.

Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.

Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.

Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.

“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”

Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.

“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”

Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”

“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.

“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”

“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”

“At any point did you give it to them, though?”

Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”

Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.

“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.

Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?

Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”

While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.

A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.

“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”

With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.

With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.

“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”

“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”

The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”

“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”

Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”

Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.

A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”

“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”

In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.

On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”

Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”

There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.

Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.

#anxceit #healthy anxciet #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #fae au #eros and psyche #squid scribbles

[imlovethomassanders]

Eyes are the Windows to the Soul(mates) - Chapter 2

You can also read on ao3

Again, thanks to @strongindependentcheesecake for beta reading

This work is complete, and will be updated every day until completion:

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

Summary: The lucky few who have a soulmate are born with heterochromia, with their left eye being the color of their soulmate’s eyes and their right eye being their own color. Not only was Virgil one of the lucky few to have a soulmate, but he was given four. His left eye changed colors every time he blinked, rotating between his four soulmates’ eye colors. His rotating eye colors caused him to be a bit of an outcast growing up, but when he finally leaves for college, things start to fall into place. This is the journey of five strangers finding each other.

Pairings: DLAMP with background Remile

Warnings: None I believe

Words: 2692

Taglist:  @touchstarvedvirgil @lamp-calm-sanders @ninjago2020 @confinesofpersonalknowledge @secret-novelisthost18 @phander-sides @sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet @bookbingingproblem @viana-dascolli @sharktryingtofly @crofters-n-falsehoods @turnedthefreakingfrogsgay @little-kat07

That Saturday morning Virgil started the long drive up to Patton's house. The plan Patton arranged was for Virgil to meet him at his house and that evening meet their other soulmate. Patton had planned Virgil's arrival to coincide with his mom's work hours, so he knew that they'd get a few hours alone.

The more Patton gushed about their other soulmate, the more nervous Virgil felt. Patton refused to give too many details, though, saying he wanted Virgil to learn them himself.

Virgil finally pulled into the driveway and groaned as he stretched his legs, since he refused to stop once during the drive.

Virgil hadn't even knocked on the door before Patton swung it open and pulled Virgil inside.

Virgil was caught off guard by the suddenness of it but quickly relaxed under Patton's grasp and hugged him back tightly. Patton took a shaky breath before separating to look up at Virgil. Virgil gingerly wiped away a tear that fell down Patton's cheek. Patton smiled before going in to kiss Virgil and Virgil leaned down to meet him halfway.

Though the kiss was soft, there was still an underlying sense of urgency. That had been apart so long, after all. Virgil moved his hands to Patton's neck while Patton tried to pull him closer, though they were about as close as they could be.

Once the two finally separated they moved to the couch, Patton's legs thrown over Virgil's lap as he clung to his side, and Virgil had his arm securely around Patton's waist.

Patton had a movie playing on Netflix, but neither of them were really watching.

"How's your summer been?" Patton asked.

"Boring."

"Same here. Well, until recently," Patton beamed, and Virgil couldn't help but smile.

Virgil and Patton were planning to go to a coffee shop near Patton's house to meet their soulmate later in the evening. As the time grew closer and closer to when they needed to leave, Virgil's anxiety grew and grew. Patton could tell Virgil was getting anxious and started to rub circles into Virgil's back, something that never failed to make Virgil melt and basically turn into putty under Patton's hands.

After talking through two Netflix movies, it was time. Patton hopped off the couch and offered his hand to Virgil. Virgil took it and the two were out the door.

With every step Virgil took, his heart rate increased. This was it. Virgil was about to meet another soulmate. They entered the coffee shop and his heart rate grew even faster. They sat down and he felt his breathing start to grow a tad bit shallower.

There were too many people making too much noise. All the movement of the people around him was just too much and he tried to focus just on his and Patton's joined hands, watching as Patton rubbed circles on the back of his hands with his thumb.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone approach their table. Patton let go of his hands to stand up. Virgil took a deep breath and looked over, and the world that was just going too fast suddenly stood still.

He was gorgeous. He was taller than Patton and probably taller than Virgil. His posture was perfect and his dark hair was slicked back without a single strand out of place. He just radiated this sense of sophistication that would have intimidated Virgil had Patton not just thrown his arms around him, causing him to stumble back a little bit.

Virgil's breath hitched as he looked behind the glasses to see that next to his deep blue eye was Virgil's own gray, which faded into dark brown once their eyes met.

"Virgil! This is Logan! He's our soulmate!" Patton exclaimed as he ushered Logan into a seat between them.

"Hi..."

"Salutations."

"Patton glanced between the two, smile growing even larger.

*

"So you actually lived here your whole life, too!?" Patton exclaimed. Logan nodded.

"Up until recently. I live out of state now, near my university. I'm just here to visit my parents this month."

"So we could've met a long time ago," Patton said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"We could have, yes."

Seeing Patton's troubled expression caused Virgil to jump in.

"So what are you majoring in?" Virgil asked. Patton was holding one of Virgil's hands under the table and was back to rubbing circles in the back of his hand.

"Chemical engineering."

"Damn."

"Patton told me you're majoring in art like he is?" Logan asked as he went to sip his coffee.

"I am," Virgil nodded. "But I'm stuck in a dorm cause I'm only there on scholarship."

"From what I've heard, this university doesn't offer many art scholarships. You must be quite good," Logan said. Virgil felt heat rise quickly onto his face.

"So how'd you meet Patton?" Virgil asked quickly, wanting the attention off of him.

"He literally ran into me."

Virgil snorted.

"That sounds like Patton."

Patton just shrugged.

"He offered me his hand to help me up, and that's when I saw his eyes," Patton continued.

"He was so surprised, he accidently let go of my hand, causing him to fall again."

Patton grinned sheepishly as Virgil laughed.

"He then pulled me onto the ground to hug me. I first pushed myself off of him and tried to walk away, but he grabbed my hand to explain we were soulmates."

"We actually came and talked in here," Patton said. "That's why I decided to bring you here to meet him, too."

Virgil smiled.

*

After a couple more hours, Virgil noticed Logan repeatedly glancing at his watch. His leg started to shake lightly and he'd regularly run his hand through his hair.

"You okay, Logan?" Virgil asked.

Logan hesitated for a moment before sighing.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must go now. I'll call you in the morning, okay?"

He got up and started putting on his jacket.

Patton frowned and followed.

"Hold on, please," Patton said once they walked out the door. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything is fine," Logan assured. He went to walk away, causing Patton to reach for his arm but quickly pulling his hand back when he saw Logan flinch away. Logan sighed.

"This situation has been a tad bit overwhelming, that's all."

Patton's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

Logan sighed again, this time more agitated.

"I just met my first soulmate a couple days ago, and now I'm already meeting another one. I do not exactly know what to make of all this."

Patton said nothing.

"I'm not sure what I expected. For us to immediately fall in love? For everything to work perfectly at the very beginning? I don't know what I expected, but those things didn't happen. "I am not the best at this whole 'emotion and romance' thing. You both seem like wonderful people and I'm sorry to disappoint, but I need some time to get adjusted to this whole soulmate and relationship idea."

Patton nodded. "O-of course. We'll see you soon, yeah?"

Logan nodded before walking away.

Patton took a shaky breath before grabbing Virgil's hand and quickly walking back towards his house.

Patton didn't say anything but by how often he wiped his eyes and his sniffling, it was obvious he was trying to keep from crying.

"I just don't understand!" Patton finally cried out once they got home. "We connected so easily. I don't know what went wrong."

"Patton."

"I mean, I get if he's nervous but why did he not connect with us?"

"Patton."

"We basically fell in love almost as soon as we met!"

"Did we, though?"

Patton froze.

"What?" he squeaked out.

'Can you say with one hundred percent certainty that the first time we said we loved each other that we truly did?"

"Of course! We-"

Virgil gently grabbed Patton's face.

"Really? Can you say we truly loved each other back then like we do now?"

"I-I-"

"We were more in love with the attention we received than each other. We barely knew each other."

Patton was quiet.

"I can say for sure that now I am crazy in love with you," Virgil said as he lifted Patton's chin so he could look into his eyes. "But we were young and lonely and desperate for anything, so we went way too quickly."

Patton took a shaky breath and nodded.

"You're right. Let's make sure we do it right with Logan this time."

Virgil leaned down to kiss him. He felt Patton take another shaky breath, and he knew tears were falling down Patton's face. He separated just to wipe the tears away before kissing him again.

Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil's chest and pulled him as close as he could, whimpering slightly as their bodies pushed against each other. Virgil moved his hands to Patton's hair, feeling Patton melt under him.

Eventually Patton pulled away, hair mussed up and pupils dark.

"I love you," Patton whispered. "So much."

Patton reconnected their lips and Virgil couldn't help push Patton against the wall, earning a surprised squeak from Patton that turned into a moan as Virgil bit his bottom lip.

"I love you, too," Virgil replied against Patton's lips in that husky voice that never failed to send shivers down Patton's spine.

Virgil's hands found their way around Patton's waist. Their kiss grew from fast and desperate to slow and gentle. Tears were falling down Patton's face again and at this point Virgil's arms were the only thing keeping him standing.

"I love you," Patton said softly between gentle kisses. "I love you I love you I love you."

"I love you, too," Virgil whispered back. "Let's sit you down, yeah?"

In one swift motion, Patton's legs were around Virgil's waist as he walked them back to the couch. He sat down with Patton straddling his lap, Patton immediately burying his head into the crook of Virgil's neck.

Patton took a shaky breath.

"Everything will be fine. Logan will be fine. We will be fine," Patton said, voice tired yet adamant.

Virgil couldn't see Patton's face, but he knew that Patton's eyes were bright with a passionate determination. Those eyes that let Virgil know everything was going to be okay.

*

The next day Logan did call. He apologized if he upset Virgil or Patton, and they responded with assurances that everything was okay.

Patton asked if he still wanted to go to the museum he mentioned a few days ago, and they could hear Logan's excitement over the phone.

Logan was busy with his parents that day, but they agreed that tomorrow they'd meet back at that cafe for lunch before going to the museum.

Patton was basically shaking with excitement after they hung up.

*

When tomorrow finally arrived, Virgil made him and Patton leave early due to his anxiety about being late. That combined with Logan's insistence on not being late to anything meant they met around thirty minutes earlier than scheduled - not that they minded.

"Heya, Logan!" Patton smiled as he sat down.

"Hello," Logan said as he put down his phone. "How are you two doing?"

During lunch, Logan was making a clear effort to get to know them, but he was still very clearly tense and uncertain of what he should do. This attitude continued as they climbed into Logan's car. Patton was trying to show Logan he could relax and everything would be okay, but Patton was growing desperate as time went on.

All that tension was gone once they walked inside the museum.

Logan quickly led them through and talked almost the whole time. Virgil and Patton could barely get a word in. He rambled about astronomy and physics and quantum theory and all these other things Patton and Virgil could barely understand. They rarely needed to read anything, as Logan would explain everything in greater detail than the plaques in front of them held.

While Patton and Virgil barely understood a word he said, they loved every second. His eyes had finally lit up and he seemed to relax. This was the Logan they wanted to know.

They stayed until closing. Logan drove Patton and Virgil back to Patton's house, and Patton invited Logan in. Logan hesitated, but agreed.

Logan sat on the couch with Virgil while Patton went off to go make tea.

"That was really fun," Virgil said as he shrugged off his hoodie.

"Yes," Logan nodded. "It was very enjoyable. Much more so than I expected," he admitted as he ducked his head. Virgil smiled.

"Hey, why can't you trust atoms?" Patton asked as he came in with mugs of tea.

"What?"

"Why, Pat?" Virgil asked.

"Because they make up everything!" Patton beamed. Virgil smirked as he brought his tea to his lips while Logan just stared.

"...What?"

"You'll get used to the jokes soon enough," Virgil promised.

After talking again for a couple more hours (this time the talking was much more balanced between the three of them), Patton offered to make dinner and was pleasantly surprised when Logan agreed to stay.

"And that's how I kept a cat in my room for a month without my mom knowing," Patton grinned.

"But you told me you were allergic to cats," Logan said incredulously. He and Virgil were sitting at the table while Patton cooked.

"I am," Patton said. "I just took a love of Advil."

"So what happened to the cat?" Virgil asked.

"She lives with my neighbor now."

"Wow."

Time passed far too quickly. Not long after dinner, Logan said he had to head home.

"Virgil's still in town for a few more days," Patton said as they stood in the front door. "Do you think you'd like to get together again?"

"I... I would like that very much," Logan said. "I enjoyed myself immensely tonight. I would like to apologize for my behavior yester-"

"Oh, hush," Patton interrupted. "You have nothing to apologize for. We know meeting your soulmate for the first time is overwhelming."

"We like a lot already, Logan," Virgil said. "Patton and I want to go at whatever pace you feel comfortable with."

Logan couldn't help the blush growing on his face. "I believe I can see myself growing quite fond of you two as well."

Patton beamed.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Logan said.

"Text me that you get home safe," Patton said.

"I will. Goodnight, Patton. Goodnight, Virgil," Logan replied before walking towards his car.

"G'night, Logan," Virgil said at the same time Patton called out "Goodnight!"

*

Virgil extended his stay by another week, but he did eventually have to go home.

Over that week, Virgil swore he was falling in love again. Logan was incredible.

He remembered feeling this excited giddiness for Patton, when everything was so new. The uncertainty of it all had been terrifying and yet so endearing at the same time. Virgil was ready to go on that journey with Logan - the wanting to know everything about this person, the wanting to grow to trust this person, and the wanting to have this person in your life.

That journey had been almost horrifying with Patton. They claimed they loved each other after only a couple of weeks. The two were so inexperienced they felt they had to say it out of necessity - that they had to because the universe told them so.

Now, two years later, Virgil knew he really did love Patton, and Virgil was ready to go along this journey right with Logan. Not going too fast, letting everything fall into place naturally.

Logan was smart, and he knew he was smart and was certain about nearly everything. He was blunt when speaking and never tried to hide his true opinions.

Virgil loved it.

While Virgil loved Patton dearly, he was always so optimistic and cheerful. And while that was by no means a bad thing, having a figure that was so sure and grounded soothed something inside Virgil that Patton's optimism couldn't.

They were two extremes that provided a balance Virgil hadn't been aware he needed.

It was perfect. Logan was perfect. Patton was perfect.

They were perfect.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #dlamp #remile #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #ts remy #ts sleep #dr emile picani #emile picani #moxiety #analogical #prinxiety #anxceit #logicality #royality #moceit #patceit #logince #loceit #roceit #virgil #patton #logan #my fics

[the-sympathetic-villain]

New Labels

AO3

Pairings: QPR Lociet

Warnings: Light insecurity/Anxiety

Word count: 3,989

Description: Logan and Janus rescue a kitten on their first date :)

[Reposting this for better formatting on my writing masterpost]

gosh part of me wants to revisit this AU lol

-

    “Well…I guess I'll see you later.”

    “I would assume so. You do tend to frequent my place of employment rather consistently.”

    Ouch.

    Janus tried to hide his hurt as he smiled crookedly up at the cute barista that he'd only recently managed to work up the courage to ask out on a date. A crack of thunder rolled across the sky above them, and Janus watched as Logan pulled down the hood of his raincoat.

    Crappy weather for a date.

    Despite Logan's constant reassurances that he enjoyed the rain, Janus couldn’t help but feel that their date had been doomed from the start. He sighed and smiled. If he was being honest with himself, things could have gone worse. He knew he'd loved every minute of their afternoon together and he only hoped Logan felt the same. They’d had lunch at a quiet little bistro downtown that Logan had recommended and after they’d ran through the pouring rain down the block to one of Logan's favorite bookstores. A warm smile spread across Janus' at the fresh memory of following Logan through the aisles listening to him talk endlessly about all of his favorite authors. Logan could go on for hours and Janus was all too eager to listen.  The way his face lit up when he was excited was too pure and perfect. He was perfect. Logan had even inquired about Janus’ reading preferences and picked out some novels for him to read so they could discuss them later.

    Guess that doesn’t mean much though, if there's not going to be a second date.

    Janus swallowed sadly. The date really had been perfect.

    Why did I have to get invested?

    He'd been debating about asking for him for months. Janus knew his schedule at the coffee shop by heart at this point. They’d been taking for nearly a year and his best friend had talked him into at least asking him out.

    I'm going to kill Ro—

    “I have some concerns about your caffeine intake. Continued reliance on stimulants can affect your mood and sleep patterns.” Logan absentmindedly pulled his keys from his pocket and worked through the keys to find the right one. Janus felt his heart skip a beat as Logan tilted his head up to smirk at him. “Then again, if it weren't for your dependence on caffeine, I would see you much less and that would be truly disappointing."

    Janus stifled a squeak of surprise as flash of lightning illuminated Logan's porch. He played it cool, hoping the lightning had  distracted Logan from the almost certainly undignified face he'd made at Logan's words. With a devilish smile, he took a step closer to Logan as thunder rumbled around them. “I definitely would never put my heath at risk in order to see you more often.”

    This time it was Logan's turn to blush and Janus couldn't help the smile that quirked on his lips at the sight.

    Logan cleared his throat, and fumbled with his keys. Janus raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be stalling, even as he moved to leave. “Well, umm. Yes. I suppose we should part ways for the night.”

    Oh god. He wants me to kiss him.

    A slight shiver ran up Janus' spine at the thought and his smile faltered for a moment. It wasn’t that Logan was an unattractive person. Quite the opposite actually. Janus often caught himself staring at Logan whenever he wasn't careful. Janus swallowed nervously. Logan wasn’t the problem. Aesthetically, he was very attractive. Janus just didn't wasn't the type for romantic attraction, or sexual really, but he'd always been more repulsed by romantic gestures than anything.

    The hand-holding, sappy, over-the-top displays of affection that everyone in the world seemed to enjoy made his stomach turn. Kissing most of all confounded him. Why people seemed to enjoy trying to swallow each other’s tongues, he'd never know.

    But they do and I don't. I guess it’s better to rip off the band-aid now and tell him I'm aromantic. It's better to see if he can live with that before this goes too far.

    Janus swallowed nervously. Rejection was never easy, and he wasn't sure he could handle it coming from the barista who he'd seen nearly every day for the last year.

    God, I'm never going to be able to get a decent cup of coffee again.

    “Listen, Logan—” He started nervously.

    Mew.

    Janus stopped, seeing the confused expression on Logan's face. “Do you have a cat?”

    Logan shook his head, glancing around the porch. “I do not.”

    “It's pouring rain right now.” Janus glanced around at the puddles of water pooling in the shallow dips in Logan's yard.

    Mewww.

    The cat's call was longer this time and was almost shrill with fear.

    “Perhaps, we should locate this cat. It appears to be distressed and combination of rain and wind could pose potential danger for a small animal.” Janus could see the worry growing in Logan’s eyes, and he nodded, following behind Logan as he stepped off the porch to follow the noise.

    Mewwww.

    The calls were getting louder and more insistent as they approached the far side of the deck and peered through the cross hatch underneath.

    Mewwww.

    Janus eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness under the deck and he could just make out a small, black kitten cowering in the shadows.

    “It's young,” Logan looked over at Janus with a serious expression. “Barely old enough to be weaned. It must have squeezed through the gaps in the wood and gotten stuck.”

   Janus nodded. “Well, since I'm definitely slender enough to slip through that gap, do you have a drill?”

    Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to take it apart?”

    “What?” Janus smiled teasingly at him. “I don’t seem trustworthy?”

    His coyness seemed to fall on deaf ears as nervous settled across Logan’s face. “Are you licensed?”

    “No, but I know what I'm doing, and if we waste time trying to find someone with the proper qualifications, that kitten is going to be iintrouble.” Logan still looked wary, but Janus was quick to reassure him. “Trust me. I've done this several times before. It's just a couple of screws holding it in place. It'll pop right back on when I'm done.”

    Logan nodded and Janus blushed at the subtle smile that appeared on his face. “Okay, I'll be right back.”

    Logan stood up and went inside, leaving Janus squatting in the drizzling rain as he looked down at the little kitten shivering near one of the supporting posts.

    “Hey there, little one.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue, trying to coax it closer. “It’s a little cold out here, huh?”

    Mew.

    “I know. We're going to get you out of there and find some place warm for yiu to stay. Okay?”

    Mew.

    Too his surprise, the kitten stood up, approaching him cautiously. Janus reached out a hand rubbing his fingers together and clicking. “Come on, buddy. Make this easier on us and just come out of there.”

    Mew.

    “How about you do me a solid and help me impress this cute boy I'm on a date with?”

    Mew.

    The kitten stopped just behind the crisscrossing wood and sat on the ground. Janus sighed and smiled. “Just like a cat to make things difficult.”

    Mew.

    “No? Nature itself would like me to fail?” Janus rolled his eyes. “That hardly what I ever would have expected."

    Janus reached his fingers through the wood, but stopped as the kitten backed away cautiously. He waited patiently as the kitten relaxed. Janus could feel the rain dripping down his face as the cat sniffed his hand. Janus smiled as the whiskers tickled his hand. The cat rubbed its face on Janus' hand and allowed him to reach up to scratch it's chin. “See? I’m not a bad guy, right?”

    Meewwww.

    The cat whined as Janus pulled his hand out from the gap. “Well, come out then if you want more.”

    Mew.

    The kitten trailed behind his fingers and reluctantly pushed it head through the door. Janus picked it up, cuddling it close in his arms. The little, cat purred happily in his hands as he scratched his chin. He slowly stood up, just as Logan came around the corner, with a drill in one hand and a towel in the other. His shoulders dropped in surprise as he noticed the purring kitten in Janus' arms.

    A subtle smirk appeared on Logan's face as the worry disappeared “I see you didn't actually require my assistance at all.”

    Janus' heart fluttered with pride at the smile on Logan’s lips, but he forced himself to play it off nonchalantly. “I only needed a moment alone to work my magic powers.”

    Logan smirked back at him. “Well, I will admit I am impressed.”

    “Yes,  it’s definitely that, and not at all the fact that you’re relieved that I don't have to take your deck apart.” Janus smiled smugly.

    “I won’t deny that is preferential to the alternative, but I am impressed you seem to have all the have all the beauty and power of a Disney princess.” Logan narrowed his eyes playfully at him.

    Great. At least I know Roman would approve.

    Janus rolled his eyes. “Are we going inside then?”

    Logan hesitated, suddenly nervous again. When he finally spoke, hos voice was friendly, but cautious. “I must admit I don't usually allow the men I date into my home on the first date."

    “Yes, because I often plan to rescue a scared kitten in order to gain access to my date’s homes.” Janus immediately regretted his sarcasm as a look of discomfort crossed Logan’s face. “You know what? That wasn't fair, Logan. If you're uncomfortable, I’ll go. Do you want to take—"

    Logan’s face softened quickly and he held up a hand to stop him. “You’re not going anywhere, Janus.”

    Janus froze in confusion. “But you just said—”

    “I know,” Logan smiled sweetly at him. “but these are hardly normal circumstance. You are helping me, and you’re soaking wet for your efforts. I think I can bend the rules for you. After all, you're hardly a stranger at this point.”

    The corner of Janus' lips twitched into a smile and nodded as Logan led him around the front of his house. Stepping inside, he couldn't help but notice that the walls of the room were lined with unpacked boxes.

    “Did you just move in?”

    “Yesterday.” Logan slipped off his raincoat to reveal the dark blue button up and tie he'd come to expect with him.

    “It's a nice place.” Janus glanced around. His home was small, maybe two bedrooms, but it was nicely painted and the dark leather sofa and end tables in the room were definitely high quality. The cloud cover outside dampened the natural light in the room, but a small lamp in the corner illuminated the room in a warm light. “Do you live alone?”

    Logan raised an eyebrow at him.

    Janus flushed, holding the sleeping kitten close to his chest. “Sorry. I suppose I it would have been wise to start with a less serial-killer-type question.”

    Logan laughed and Janus couldn't help but grin stupidly at the smile on Logan’s face.

  “I think I can find it in myself to overlook your red flags.” Logan opened one of the boxes and began to unload it's contents in neat piles on the floor. “I had a previous house mate, but he recently moved in with his boyfriend and I moved here.”

    “That's rough. I suppose money's a bit tight then? I can't imagine you make enough as a barista to easily afford a place like this.”

    Logan lifted the empty box with him as he stood up, giving Janus a strange look. “You are aware I own the coffee shop I work in, correct?”

    “What?” Janus mouth dropped open as he nearly shouted in surprise. The kitten mewed irritably, and Janus dropped his voice. “Since when?”

    “Since it's inception.” Logan shrugged as he put the shallow box on the sofa. “The previous roommate I mentioned and I actually own a few of them throughout town.”

    Janus looked at him dumbfounded.  “Is that why you won't let me tip you?”

    Logan smiled at Janus’ shock and shrugged as he pulled a blanket off the back of the couch.  He tucked the blanket into the box to make a makeshift bed for the kitten in Janus' arms. “It’s not customary to tip the proprietor of an establishment.”

    “But you never said that was why.” Janus spat out. “You just played coy with me.”

    Logan smirked at him and laughed. “I was… I believe the correct phrase is, ‘being a tease.’”

    “Do you mean to tell me you've been flirting with me this entire time?”

    “Clearly.” He stated plainly, but Janus could see the subtle smile tugging at his lips. His smile grew as he reached his hands out. “Now, give her to me.”

    “Her?” Janus asked as he passed the kitten to Logan

    “I'm fairly certain judging by her size and physical traits but…” The cat chirped in protest of being lifted out of the warm towel and he lifted her up to examine her. “She is female. Although I suppose the pronouns are arbitrary, considering cats are not familiar with human social construct of gender—”

    “You’re trying to distract me from the fact that you flirted with me for a year, and as you can see, it's working flawlessly.” Janus crossed his arms and tried to look disappointed.

    Logan merely rolled his eyes and tucked the kitten under his arm as he reached into an open box to grab a small towel. He gently massaged the dampness off the purring kitten in his hand as he continued speaking. “I think that I enjoy having the figurative tables turned. Usually it is I who is considered the oblivious party.”

    “You mean to tell me I could have been dating you this whole time?” Janus put his hand on his forehead in dramatic, mock frustration. “Tragedy does strike at me yet again.”

    “You have been quite the conversation at the coffee shop. If I'm not mistaken,  there were even betting pools about when you were finally going to ask me out.” Janus blushed and Logan chuckled as the kitten started to climb his shirt. He carefully unhooked the kitten’s claws from his shirt and set her down in the box, and for a moment, they watched as the kitten began to knead the blankets, apparently enthralled by the soft material. Logan drew his eyes away and glanced up at him with a soft smile. “Personally, I'm glad you waited a while though. I prefer to know someone for some time before I consider them as a romantic partner.”

    Logan’s voice was carefree as he reached down to stroke the kitten, but Janus heart sank as he was reminded of the potential deal breaker hanging over his head. “Logan…”

    Logan's head shot back up at his serious tone.

    “Come sit.” He gestured for Logan to join him on the couch. Janus sat on one side of the box and Logan slowly dropped onto to other side. He hung his head and was quiet for a while, hesitant to break their easy chemistry.

    “Janus, if I have offended you in some way, I’m sorry—” Logan looked over at him with concern in his eyes.

    “You didn't offend me.” Janus hung his head, anxiety building in his chest. He watched kitten twirl around in the box between them and drop into the blanket, laying her head on her tail as she settled in comfortably.  “I just would prefer to have this discussion before either if us get too invested.”

    Logan stared at him for a while, but nodded and waited patiently as Janus gathered his thoughts.

    “Logan, I'm aromantic.” Janus looked up at him expecting disappointment, but was met with a confused expression.

    “Well, yes. You smell very pleasant. I don't know what that has to do—”

    “What?” Janus paused for a moment before the realization his him. “No. Not aromatic, Logan. Aromantic.”

    Logan paused. “I'm sorry. I'm not familiar with the term.”

    “Oh, right.” Janus hadn't considered that he may have to explain the concept. “Have you heard of the split attraction model?”

    Logan looked at him curiously. “No.”

    Janus smiled patiently at him. “It’s based on the idea that there are multiple types of attraction. Many people experience sexual and romantic attraction simultaneously  so they consider them to be the same thing, but there's a spectrum of people who experience attraction differently or not at all., and I'm one of those people.”

    Logan nodded contemplatively. “Okay.”

    “I'm still questioning some of my identity. I assume I'm demisexual, which means I only find people attractive with whom I've formed a significant attachment. To be honest though, I've never been in a situation where I've put that theory into practice so to speak,” Janus sighed and hung his head. “But I know I'm aromantic.”

    “Which means what exactly?” Logan inquired seriously, stroking the kitten between them.

    “I don't experience romantic attraction.” Janus watched Logan's neutral expression as he explained. “I’m not drawn to people, because I want to be romantic or lovey with them. I don't like holding hands or sappy romantic gestures. The idea of kissing is repulsive to me. I just don't enjoy being part of that kind of relationship, because that kind of affection makes me uncomfortable.”

    “So, you are just interested in the potential for sex?”

    “No,” Janus’ face scrunched in disgust. “I'm not looking for that at all.”

    “I’m sorry. I'm trying not to assume anything.” Logan paused and Janus could see the struggle to understand in Logan's face. “I'm just trying to figure out what your intentions for asking me out were, if they weren't due to some degree of attraction.”

    Janus looked up at him, desperation in his eyes. “I am attracted to you in my own way. I enjoyed spending time with you and talking today. I like listening to you laugh or listening to tall excitedly about books. My attraction for you is real. It's just not romantic.”

    Logan watched him carefully. “And you’re not just trying to tell me you just want to be friends?”

    “No.” Janus said tiredly. His anxiety gave way to exhaustion. “I am interested in a committed relationship with you. I just don't want the type of relationship you see in a rom-com. I want to spend time with you rescuing cats and drinking coffee.”

    Logan was quiet for a long time and Janus heart sank further and further with each passing second. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but he felt his heart shattering.

     “So,” Logan spoke slowly. “You want to spend time with me. You want to be in a relationship, but you don't want to kiss me hold hands or be affectionate?”

     Janus couldn't bring himself to look up at Logan’s face. “I'd be affectionate. It just manifests differently. Something like the thought of listening to you talk excitedly about the stars is more appealing to me that the thought of kissing you.”

     Logan was silent, and Janus finally looked up at him. His hand had stopped moving on the kitten's back. Janus heart shattered at the downcast look on Logan’s face. He felt tears in his eyes.

    Damn it. Why'd I get invested?

    Rejection sucks.

   He choked back a sob, and stood to leave. “I'm sorry. This is stupid—”

    “Janus—”

    “I'm sorry I wasted your time.” Janus turned to go, but Logan caught his wrist.

    “Janus, stop.”

    “Logan, if you don't want this, it's fi—” Janus’ words failed him as he turned to see tears in Logan’s eyes.

    Logan looked down at where he held Janus' wrist before moving his gaze up to his eyes. “I’m sorry. I needed a moment to process what you were saying, I think… I think I may be aromantic too. I just lacked a word to define my feelings.”

    Janus froze for a moment, but as Logan dropped his wrist, Janus turned to kneel in front of Logan. “Shit, I didn’t see that coming. I'm sorry. Are you doing okay?”

    “I'm not the only one." Logan’s voice was breathless.

    Janus' lip curled into a smile. “You're not alone, Logan.”

    Logan sighed and he chuckled softly as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “I'm sorry. I’m not usually prone to being this dramatic.”

    “You aren't being dramatic.”

    “Is that one of your blatant falsehoods that you hide under the guise of sarcasm?” Logan sniffed, but Janus could see a smile twitch on his lips.

    “No, I've never been so truthful about anything in my life.” Janus reached a hand out and rested it on Logan's forearm. “Society puts pressure on us to live a certain way. The release of knowing there are other options can be a lot to handle.”

    “I never even considered there may be alternatives.” Logan ran a hand through his hair and Janus couldn't resist smiling as Logan mussed his own hair. Seeing Logan let his guard down made his heart flutter. “I simply accepted that I would be slightly uncomfortable in my relationships.”

    “You don't have to do that,” Janus smiled up at the him nervously. “especially if I get a part in your journey.”

    “Janus?”

    “Yes, Logan?” Janus gently squeezed his wrist.

    “May I hug you?”

    “Yes. I’m certainly not dying for you to do just  that.”

    Janus stretched his arms out and a warm feeling flooded his chest as Logan pulled him close.

    “Thank you, Jan."

    Janus' heart fluttered at the nickname and he smiled. “For what?”

    “For giving me a word to explain what I've been feeling.”

    “I'm glad I could help you.” Janus pulled back as Logan released him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Logan’s warm smile and the wet streaks of happy tears glistening on his face. “Can I assume you’re still interested in continuing to see me then?”

    “God, yes.” Logan's face flushed and he nervously backtracked. “I mean, if that would be favorable to you.”

    “God, yes please.” Janus laughed. His face was almost sore from how wide he was smiling as he wiped away the tears that were now falling freely down his face. Logan laughed and Janus would have sworn that sound to be the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

    Mew.

    Janus tore his eyes away from Logan to look down the tiny, black cat crawling to the edge of the box. Realizing she was close to edge, he reached out to stop her, but his reaction was a moment too slow. With a tumble, the kitten fell over the edge of the box and landed softly in Logan’s lap. Janus leaned back on his ankles, watching Logan smile as he stroked the kitten in his lap. She purred loudly, bumping her head insistently against Logan’s hands in demand for more attention.

    “What are you going to do with her?”

    Logan looked up at Janus with a sad smile. “She is well taken care of a shows indications of prior human socialization, so I expect I should attempt to find her owner.”

    Janus smirked, seeing the growing fondness in Logan's eyes as he looked down at the satisfied kitten. “And if you can't find her owner?”

    “I have always desired the companionship of a cat. They're exceptionally clever creatures, but I never had the opportunity because my previous housemate was allergic.” Logan looked up at Janus with a sparkle in his eye. “So, if attempts to find her owner are unsuccessful, you may have just given me the perfect house-warming gift.”

    “Good, because I want to give you everything.” Janus smiled happily and his heart felt light in his chest as he stared into Logan’s eyes.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts logan #ts janus #lociet #New Labels #villain writes #qpr #qpr loceit

[starlightinhumanform]

24/7: Chapter One

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Platonic Demus, Platonic Logicality 

Summary: James (aka Janus) works the graveyard shift at a open-all-night convenience store. Logan is a college student who stays up way too late, way too often. While pulling all-nighters, he often visits the store James works at. As time goes on, James begins to care about Logan as more than just a customer. 

Warnings: Moderate Language, Some suggestive jokes, Mentions of ignorant/negative sentiments regarding vitiligo, Mentions of intoxication— some implied to be underage (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: College AU, Coffeeshop AU but weird (that’s literally the best way i can think of describing it), Mutual Feelings, Fluff 

A/N: — Janus’ name in this AU is James (mostly because when I began planning this, his name hadn’t been revealed). I may still include his name by writing in a name-change but we’ll see lmao — I do not have vitiligo and do not personally know anyone with vitiligo; Janus’ experience with the condition is based entirely on my research. That being said, I did my best to give an accurate representation but I do not claim that it is flawless in anyway. If there are any improvements you think I can make in this area, please please let me know 🖤🖤🖤 Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3   Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

James’ first shift started normally. That is, as normally as he could assume 24 hour convenience store shifts could be. It’s not like he had much experience with it.

Being his first day, he had assumed that the manager would’ve at least stuck around for a while. Instead, the woman had pointed out the bathroom plunger— advising him to not let anyone steal it— told him how to use the slushie machine, and said that if someone tried to rob the store, let them take the money; she even showed him the quickest way to open the cash register. Then she left within the first hour of James’ shift.

James didn’t mind being alone but he couldn’t fight down the frustration at his manager for abandoning him without actually telling him anything useful. He kept worrying that someone would ask a question that he couldn’t answer. What if the customer got angry and then he got reported and lost his job on the first night? Not to mention every time someone walked in, he was ready to bargain for his life with the $225.67 and a random condom in the cash register.

The adrenaline was getting to his head, stirring up usually dormant worries. He couldn’t stop glancing down at his hands. They were warm tan, patterned at random with lighter splotches. He had a condition known as vitiligo which made areas of his skin lose their pigmentation. For the majority of the time, it wasn’t a big deal; the worst part was the weird looks people gave him and even then, he could usually brush them off. Still, there was always the occasional idiot who felt the need to say something rude or inform him that he showed signs of demon possession. He hoped beyond everything that one of those incidents didn’t occur while he was alone in the store.

Thankfully, the only customers for the next few hours were a couple groups of teenagers at varying levels of intoxication and a traveling family made up of two parents suffering from highway-hypnosis and a small child who tried to climb into one of the drink refrigerators.

By one in the morning, the flow of incoming patrons had completely stopped. By that point James had already thrown back an entire 5-hour Energy drink and reorganized the chip rack— twice .

When the entry bell finally rang again at around two, James’ head was buzzing so badly he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the sound or not. A young man walked in— college aged with messy hair and glasses. He disappeared into the rows of brightly coloured plastic bags without a word and so quickly it made James once again question whether or not he was hallucinating.

It wasn’t until the man had made his way back to the counter, setting down a bag of chips and a couple energy drinks, that James was sure he existed. The man’s hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in two days and his dark circles were so deep they could be seen from beneath his squared glasses. Yup, definitely a college student.  

Despite the obvious signs of exhaustion, the man was undeniably pretty. Counter to his tired scowl, his eyes were bright and alert, framing a sharp nose. The way he kept his strong chin tilted slightly upwards and walked with purpose gave him the appearance of someone who actually knew what he was doing with his life— so basically, the opposite of James.

James was hardly ever self conscious about his appearance but this man— this stupidly pretty, oddly perfect man— made James squirm just a little bit, made him wonder if he was living on one side of some scale while the customer lounged on the other side. James tried to shrugged it off, focusing on the items in front of him instead.

The man spent the entire interaction at the counter muttering to himself and never once making eye contact. It was a little strange, but he was cute and James was bored so he decided to just appreciate the entertainment while it lasted.

It wasn’t until James went to hand the man his receipt that he seemed to even become aware of James’ existence. James held out the thin slip of paper, apparently causing the man to flinch backwards. His reaction was strong enough to make James wonder if he was one of those people— the type that thought vitiligo was some sort of deadly, contagious disease.

His eyes darted up quickly, his gaze sharp as it scanned over James’ face, “You’re not the normal cashier.”

He was taken aback by the accusing tone in the man’s voice, “No, I guess I’m not? I just got hired; the other guy got let off… something about trying to steal the plunger.”

“Oh,” His face transformed into a noncommittal scowl that James simply could not read, “Expect me regularly.”

The man turned on his heels and walked briskly to the door as James stood frozen and mystified behind the counter, “Oh, uh… see you soon then.”

——————

James woke up to the smell of something burning. He didn’t even remember dragging himself home and collapsing in his bed but based on the smell bothering him he evidently had made it back. No one could burn food quite like his roommate.

“Remus what the fuck are you doing?” James shuffled out to the kitchen where his roommate was poking at something on the stove.

“Making lunch.”

Based on his bed head and near-complete lack of clothes (Remus always slept in booty shorts and nothing else) James could guess that he had woken up only a few minutes earlier himself, “Dude that does not smell like anything humans should eat.”

Remus gave him a wicked grin and James decided not to push the subject. He walked out of the room with a sigh and hoped that the smell would clear up soon.

He made his way into the living room, sitting down and flipping open his laptop. James groaned at the lack of new email notifications. No new emails meant no new job acceptions.

“Guess I’m working the night shift again.”

James was grateful he got the job at the convenience store— no question. Getting a job as a college dropout was both necessary and nearly impossible at the same time. He was lucky to get a job at all and being a graveyard shift, he got paid nearly double the normal wage for his position. For now, his sleep schedule would just have to suffer.

——————

The weeks drifted by and James fell into a dull, but easy rhythm. He would go to work every night, spend the hours rearranging chip bags, guarding the plunger, and— if he was lucky— the pretty college boy would come in for a few minutes to grab salty food and a caffeinated drink.

James wasn’t sure when it became “lucky” for the man to come into the store. Maybe it was lucky because he was entertaining, always preoccupied and wandering around the store like his mind was a hundred miles away. He had this odd sort of duality— somehow both spaced out and intensely focused at the same time. It was like he was concentrating on the dimension beyond the one James was living in. He floated through this world, always preoccupied with world in his head. It was endearing and intriguing and James found himself looking forward to seeing the man. James wanted to see the world inside his head, to know what was so captivating that he had no use or interest for what was outside of it.  

The student was quickly becoming his favourite customer— something James never thought he would have— and he genuinely enjoyed having a chance to talk to the other guy. He was handsome, obviously intelligent, and, if given the chance, James definitely would’ve asked him out for a drink.

As it was though, James looked awful in his uniform so he would never have the confidence to make a move the only times he ever saw him.

James started to watch for him. The man came at least once a week, always between midnight and four in the morning. He must have lived nearby because he always walked over instead of taking a car like most of the other patrons. Either that, or he lived further away and walked all the way just for a bag of chips and an energy drink.

It was a Thursday like any other when he walked into the store and James’ curiosity got the better of him.

“So,” James leaned across the counter as the man sat his items down, “you come around here often?”

He tilted his head quizzically, “Yes? I do come here often? You’ve seen me.”

“No I— it was a joke,” James resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was… not going the way James would have hoped, “What’s your name? We might as well get on first name basis since we see each other all the time.”

“I’m Logan,” Logan seemed surprised by the question.

“I’m James.”

Logan gave a curt nod, “I know.”

“But— how? I—“

“It’s on your name tag,” And with that, Logan turned and marched out of the store.

——————

Logan laid on his back, arms and legs spread over the entirety of his bed. The only leftover space of the bed was occupied by Patton, one of his housemates.

“So how did the all-nighter go?”

Logan groaned, “Well… it sure as hell did go all night. I’m so fucking tired.”

“This is what you get for viewing the entire American university system as a challenge.”

He squinted up at Patton. With his blond hair and round, smiling face he looked like the direct inversion of whatever pale little zombie Logan currently felt like, “I gotta stop staying up so late.”

“I don’t know, you kind of seem to like it,” His housemate patted his leg and stood up to walk out of Logan’s room, “By the way, where do you keep going? I hear you leaving the house, like, super early all the time.”

Sunlight was streaming through his partially open blinds. It was probably quite pretty but to Logan it just looked like a headache-inducing glare. He threw a pillow over his face, muffling his voice as he answered, “Booty call.”

Patton laughed as he stopped walking, “Yeah right. The day you answer a booty call is the day I will shave my head.”

Logan shifted the pillow slightly to look at Patton again. The man’s hair was his prize possession, like a curly fluffy cloud that he kept as a pet on top of his head. Logan didn’t know how Patton could afford the time and money he put into his hair. What he did know, however, was that Patton would never risk its safety. Logan frowned in (mostly) fake insult, “You really think there’s not a single person who would send me a horny text at three in the morning?”

“Nah I think there are quite a few people who would do that. I just doubt there’s anyone you’d actually find worth answering.”

Was there anyone he would actually answer? Logan stared up at the dark fabric above him. The pillowcase was a deep navy blue and if he really squinted, he could see the weave of the thread, a thousand random threads coming together to make a greater whole. The way the individual pieces created something far larger than themselves was fascinating to Logan. He had never given it much before, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find a random individual worth making something together.

In the darkness covering his eyes, a vision of the convenience store cashier flashed across his mind. The face he saw was light brown and across that warm canvas, lighter portions sprawled. For the first time, Logan began really thinking about that face. He had sharp features, tired eyes, and when he smiled with lips sloped upwards at a lopsided angle. His skin reminded Logan of the glossy photos of nebulae in his astronomy textbooks— bright splashes breaking up the sameness of the night sky. How had he never noticed that before? What was his name? James.

He heard the creak of their old floors beneath Patton as he walked out of Logan’s room. He probably thought Logan had fallen asleep as he lay there in silence. He was far from asleep, though. His mind was racing, trying to find the missed connections and continually finding new ones in the process. His eyes flickered as previously unrecognized thoughts began surfacing. And they didn’t stop. How had he never noticed?

“I’ve been going to that convenience store down the street,” Logan called as Patton walked away.

James.

Maybe there was someone for him.

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[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Prologue

Tag List: @sandersidesbigbang @thomassanderssidesbigbang2021 @theimprobabledreamersworld

First Chapter > | Masterlist

This is a multi-chapter fic I've been working on for the last couple of months as a part of the 2021 Sanders Sides Big Bang. The original idea came from this post by @remy-please-come-back [thanks again for letting me use the idea 💜].

Summary: Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings. The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone. It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone. Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained. In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind. In the veins of all creatures, including humankind. For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.

For the longest time, Logan wanted to learn magic. So, when he was offered the chance to study it at a new magic school, he decided to follow his dreams. Along the way, however, he'll learn about so much more.

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Emile, Remy, OCs.

Read on AO3

0 | The Underdog's Debut

Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings.

The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone.

It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone.

Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained.

In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind.

In the veins of all creatures, including humankind.

For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.

Perhaps this was why people found it so intriguing from such a young age. They wanted answers to what magic was, and while they didn’t find what they sought, they did learn how it could be used to their advantage. Spells were created to do anything that their caster’s heart desired. From creating a small orb of light for reading in the night to manipulating a tidal wave that could crash down on your enemies.

Magic was something not easily understood, which was one reason why the Council of Wizards evaluated all potential magic users. They wanted to gage that these young mages could safely use the power they were wielding. If not, then they needed to be properly dealt with before things got out of hand.

This was a good thing, but also not because to learn magic safely you would need someone else to teach you first-hand.

Now that doesn’t seem like much of an obstacle, except the only established wizards were of the nobility, and therefore only worked with nobility. The system was pretty much rigged to make it hopeless for average people to learn and use magic. Or it was until our protagonist came along.

He rose from poverty to royalty, became a hero among heroes, and faced off against one of the greatest threats to humankind that ever existed! But I’m getting ahead of myself -sorry- let's start from the beginning, shall we?

Oh, but where to begin? Ah! We’ll start from his first test with the Council of Wizards when he was only a young lad of 15. It was the beginning of spring, which is when the COW always held the learner’s test. This test evaluated your magical potential and gave the council a heads up on how many new mages there were. Yes, COW, don’t ask me why they went with that acronym.

The ceremony was being held in the grand hall of the palace, and it was open for anyone from the Srednas Kingdom to come and watch. The test itself was rather simple but the festivities that came with it made things feel like a special holiday. Nobility and common folk alike were gathered to watch and see what new wizards would be taking on learning magic. There was even a small market of sorts set outside the palace to take advantage of the crowds and sell foods, drinks, and commemorative merchandise.

Inside, people were everywhere, talking excitedly to one another and trying to find good places to view the proceedings. At the end of the room, there was a dais with two thrones where King Thomas and his husband, Prince Consort Nico, sat to watch. In front of the dais were nine chairs for the COW members, who talked with the royals and amongst themselves. Even they seemed eager for what was about to happen, and yet no one knew truly how monumental today was going to be.

The event had begun the same as any other year. Noble children from across the land showed off whatever three spells they’d learnt for the test. Most were common tricks like lighting candles or making plants grow. A handful showed off with advanced versions of these spells, such as holding the flames in their hands or making entire trees grow. Still, regardless of how many times these spells were cast, the crowd watched in awe with each new user who passed their test.

And then a young man in a simple navy tunic and black trousers stepped forward. He looked to be in his mid-teens, the same as most of the young mages and walked with an air of subtle confidence. He had a slender form and soft features that pronounced his youthful appearance. His hair was raven black, swept neatly to the side, and his eyes were such a dark brown that they seemed almost black.

“Please state your name and title.” Silvia, the eldest council member, said.

“My name is Logan Picani.”

“Title?”

“I don’t have any.”

Silence fell over the hall. “Pardon?”

“I don’t have any titles.”

“How do you not have any titles?”

“I’m not a noble.”

Some people audibly gasped and began whispering conspiratorially to one another.

“Young man, you do understand what this test is, correct?” Allen, another council member, asked with a thinly veiled look of disgust.

“Yes sir, I do. I also know for a fact that there are no rules against my taking the test because of being a commoner.”

Allen frowned and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Silvia. “I suppose not. Well then, let’s see what you can do.”

Logan took a deep breath and then held up his hand, “Ignyght.”

The tip of his little finger began to glow with golden light. The crowd watched on in silence as he carefully moved his hand to draw the necessary rune with the trail of light that flowed from his finger.

Once the rune was complete, he spoke again. “Solhart.”

The rune turned stark white and then disappeared. For a moment nothing happened, then a small white orb appeared where the rune had previously been floating. This earned a few excited claps from the crowd and an approving nod from two council members. But Logan didn’t stop there.

“Groh.” This time the light from his fingers was bright green. He made a different rune then repeated the sealing word, “Solhart.”

The orb multiplied until nearly fifty of them were floating in a cluster before Logan.

“Stahwynd.” A deep blue light flowed from Logan’s finger as he drew the final rune. “Solhart.”

The orbs burst apart from one another like birds flying off a tree in fear. Some people from the crowd shouted in shock as the balls of light zoomed off in all different directions until finally, they stopped. Now they were floating all around the room above the spectators who gasped as they realized what Logan had done. The hall’s ceiling was pitch black, so the lights looked like stars in the night sky. It was a breath-taking sight that inspired many to cheer and clap for the young mage.

“Alright, please settle down,” Silvia called over the noise before looking at Logan with a thoughtful expression. “Where did you learn this?”

“I taught myself.”

Silvia nodded then turned to talk with her fellow council members in hushed tones. Allen and two others seemed upset, while the rest of the council were neutral if not mildly impressed. After a few minutes, she looked back at Logan with a soft smile.

“Mr Picani, you are officially granted your learner’s license. I hope when we see you again in a few months time, you will once more surprise us all.”

The crowd cheered and Logan nodded before walking away with a look of pride. As he made his way through the crowd, he received congratulations from many strangers. And then he was tackled to the ground by an enthusiastic brown-haired girl.

“You did it! You did it! I knew you could do it!”

“Everleigh, my ribs.” Logan wheezed, causing the girl to release him.

“Oops, sorry. My bad. Is your chest okay?”

“It’s fine.” Both youths got up with smiles on their faces. “I did it.”

“Yep. In a couple of months, you’re going to be an official grand wizard.”

“Considering I just got my learners, I don’t think I’ll reach such a title that quickly.”

“You just created a night sky in the palace ballroom! I think you’re underestimating yourself.”

Logan smiled softly, “Come on, we should head back to the bakery to celebrate.”

Everleigh nodded in agreement and linked their arms so they could walk side by side. As they walked, Everleigh excitedly told Logan about how incredible it had looked from the crowd, and what kind of reactions the people around her had had.

Logan was uncharacteristically grinning by the time they’d reached the bakery. Walking inside only made his smile widen as the smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries filled his senses. It was after all the smell of home, so of course, it made him feel warm and welcomed. His father, Emile Picani, was standing by the counter helping an elderly customer when Logan and Everleigh walked in.

“Thank you, dear.”

“Oh, I should be the one thanking you, Mrs Goldstone. The brownie recipe you gave me has become a bestseller.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Have a nice day dear.”

“To you as well, ma’am. Oh, Logan, Everleigh, you’re back. And smiling,” Emile gasped, “did you get it?”

“He’s a wizard!” Everleigh dramatically announced.

“Not yet, I still need to finish the second test in a couple of months. I do have a learners’ license though.”

“Well, I think this calls for some celebratory tarts,” Emile said, ushering both youths into the back of the shop where the Picani’s sitting room/kitchen was located. “I’m proud of you logan. That hard work really paid off.”

“Speaking of hard work, you are going to take a break, right?” Everleigh asked.

Logan looked away from her sheepishly. “Well…”

“Come on, Lo. You’ve been working hard non-stop for months.”

“Yeah, kid, you work with me in the bakery all day, then study well into the night. And don’t think I haven’t seen you pull an all-nighter here and there.” Emile chastised.

It was true that Logan had worked long hard to get to where he was. it wasn’t exactly a simple task when books on magic were hard to find, and what knowledge they had was even harder to grasp. Figuring out pronunciation for the initiation/sealing words and learning to keep his hand steady as he drew the runes.

It had taken him many long nights of studying by candlelight to figure out the spells he’d performed. But with Everleigh’s library apprenticeship and his own persistent nature, he’d managed to learn a good deal about the basics. And now it was paying off. He officially had a learner’s license and would get a chance to become a genuine wizard.

Then he could use magic to help so many of the villagers who couldn’t afford the high-priced assistance of other magicians. Medicinal potions? Enchanted prosthetics? Transition spells? He would be able to give all this and more at prices his peers could afford.

Logan knew that what he was doing seemed near impossible, but he was going to do it or die trying! …okay, so maybe Emile and Everleigh were valid in their concern for his health, but this was his best and only way to study magic.

Before Logan could argue this, however, a stranger walked into the bakery. He was tall and slender, with a bronze tan and confident bearing. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a clean white tunic, black trousers, and dark brown riding boots. His short curly hair was the same dark brown shade as the boots, and his eyes were hidden by black tinted glasses.

“New customer, how do you how do?”

The stranger smiled. “Hey there, gorgeous. Sorry but I’m not a customer today. Is this where Logan Picani lives?”

“Yes, that’s my son.”

“Son? No offence honey but you look too young and handsome to be a dad.”

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Logan asked, taking over the conversation for his blushing father.

“Ah, yeah, I’m here to offer you a very special opportunity on behalf of the crown prince.”

Logan and Emile gaped. “The crown prince?”

The stranger nodded. “My name is Remy Animosni, and on behalf of his highness, I’m here to extend an exclusive invitation to the Srednas Magic School.”

Logan frowned. “I wasn’t aware that there was a magic school here in Srednas.”

“Well, that’s because there wasn’t, not until now anyway. It’s something that the prince arranged to start this year with a few students to show how good it could be to the council. You particularly caught his interest today with your starry spellcasting, hence the personal invite. You would learn alongside six other students under me about everything there is to know concerning magic, from the full basics of spells to how you can modify your own enchantments.”

“That sounds incredible,” Emile said.

Remy nodded. “Yep, and not only that but you will be given your own room at the school and anything you may need or want during your stay will be provided by us, free of charge. The location of the school is just an hour out of town, so you could visit home on weekends if you desired. So how about it, kid?”

Logan was gobsmacked. The crown prince had not only seen him but was impressed enough to send an invitation to learn magic at a special new magic school.

“Wait, what do I have to do for the prince in return?”

“Absolutely nothing. The offer is completely free of any fees or deceptive dealings. I promise. The prince even sent this with me to make sure you could have physical proof if so desired.” Remy stated, producing a scroll from inside his jacket.

Emile and Logan both looked over the document and found no problems. It was a straightforward invitation for Logan to study magic at the prince’s new school, with promises to provide anything he could need while he was living at said school, and nothing more. The father and son shared a thoughtful glance. It was definitely an opportunity.

Emile smiled. “Do it.”

“Really? You think I should accept?”

“A chance like this only comes around once, and I can always hire someone if I need the help. Follow your dreams kiddo.” Emile said with an encouraging smile.

Logan bit his lip as he considered things. He really hadn’t thought today could get any better, then this happened. He was worried about leaving his dad, but Emile had told him to take this chance. And he was right about this being a once in a lifetime opportunity. Besides, Remy had said he could still visit the town on the weekends…

“Okay. I accept.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask. [Also, here's a link to chapter 1]

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

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