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brandstifter-sys · 3 years

Text

Trash Bat

@dukexietyweek Day 7 - Music (Ao3)

Word Count: 1581

Characters: Roman, Janus, Remus, Virgil

Rating: T

Warnings: innuendo, fire, spiders

Virgil is goaded into going to one of Roman’s boring galas, because Remus wants him there to help cause problems just like old times.

(Song fic. “Trash Bat” by AFI, also inspired by this and this)

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Virgil had never been one to go to one of these events and take it seriously, even when Roman pleaded with him. He hated dressing up in fancy costumes and slow dancing with figments from the Imagination. But he was here, all because Janus called him out for always rudely refusing, and he was not about to make Janus look honest.

He hated the stupid purple jacket with silver embellishments and the black dress pants. He wanted his hoodie and his headphones but he couldn't have those for a while. So he watched the people dancing around on the golden floor, avoiding the Grecian columns and the gaudy double staircase. The prince was not one of them.

"You know," Janus said as he wandered up to the window ledge where he was hiding behind a long red curtain, "Roman doesn't have any qualms about you not attending." Virgil glared at him and clenched his fists.

"Then why the fuck did you guilt me into showing up?" he hissed. Janus shrugged and brushed any dust from his jacket.

"Roman isn't the one who wants to see you here. It's not often Remus gets dressed up. Like a pulp tabloid magazine with a slick-print cover."

"You couldn't bother telling me that to get me here in the first place?"

"I was under the impression that the others don't know about your rendezvous and you wanted to keep that a secret," he hummed and scanned the crowd. And then he smiled.

"I am going to kill you until you're so dead the Dragon Witch can't reanimate your corpse," Virgil spat. Janus had the gaul to laugh and meander onto the dancefloor to find a woo-able partner. Virgil glared at him until he was out of sight.

"You look tense, Scare Bear," Remus giggled and grabbed his hand suddenly, "Tense and princely, in a satanic way!"

Virgil glanced at the duke and his heart skipped a beat. Remus was clean and groomed impeccably, with his usual makeup toned down and human teeth that were straight and blinding, rather than his fangs. He looked good in his more refined jacket with silver shoulder pads and a clean sash. He also looked like he was wearing cardboard.

"And you look like you want to start a fight and destroy this place," Virgil scoffed as Remus kissed the back of his hand, "So why don't we get out of here? I'll make sure you get your fill of carnage."

"Now there's an idea! So you don't want to woo the Gerard Way figment? He'd show you how he disappears in your—"

"Puppy, you know I only have one person I want to bring to my bed," Virgil cut him off, "And he smiles no matter how rough I get with him."

"Are you going to be my angel after we destroy this boring shindig?"

"You should know by now that I put you through hell, and I don't play nice."

"You're a devil in the sheets and on the streets, but you're so sweet in the dark, it makes all the agony worth it."

"You really want help ruining this, don't you?" Virgil snorted. He knew how the duke pleaded all too well.

"I do! Even Roman is bored! It's the perfect opportunity! It'll be just like old times!"

"We always pissed Princey off and then he threatened to maim us."

"And we can apologize for it with a video!"

"Only if you keep it clean for the camera."

"We're talking about my brother here!—But does that mean when the camera's off—?"

"You can be my filthy little trash bat. Yeah," Virgil shrugged and got up, "So, once more with a smile, let's start with the music and then the spiders and fires."

Remus beamed and led him to the dancefloor with all the false poise and grace of a man with a snake face. For the first time that night, a genuine grin crossed Virgil's lips, a wicked one but still a genuine grin, and Remus' heart melted.

They fell into a simple waltz, taking broad steps to clear a piece of floor. No one, not even the prince they pushed aside, suspected what was to come. No, the way those two were gazing into each other's eyes gave off a different impression.

And then they were in the middle of the floor, frozen in place when the song faded. Remus briefly lifted his hand from Virgil's shoulder and snapped his fingers as he relaxed his other arm. He winked and reached behind his back, grabbing the hand Virgil pressed to his lower back, not letting go of Virgil's shoulder.

The music picked up again, suddenly. The loud drums caused the crowd to panic momentarily, but they were almost immediately distracted when Virgil snapped his arm out and spun Remus, quickly reeling him back in, and pulling him to his chest, holding his waist.

Remus wasted no time twisting and kicking his legs up and over his head, flipping out of Virgil's grasp. He grabbed Virgil's hand and spun him out, letting him take an extra spin and fall to a knee. It was time for the real fun to begin.

Ρulp in the slick

Αnd you're all I take tο bed

Το read with me

Remus was thrilled to show off his footwork kicking and jumping, crossing his feet and spinning. He was fast, looming closer to Virgil.

Ρulp in the slick

Αnd you're all I take tο bed

With me tο

In a flash, Virgil swung his leg around, getting Remus to jump over it and take a knee. Virgil planted his hands and used the momentum to backflip to his feet. He made a show of swinging his leg over Remus and flipping over him in a sort of cartwheel, landing low to grab Remus' hands and pull him to his feet.

Οnce mοre with a smile

Brοken teeth and bloody eyes

They swung around each other once, then Remus pulled Virgil in, letting him swing between his legs and back. Virgil regained his footing and hunched down so he could flip Remus behind him so they were back to back.

Ιn my mean light

Μy my my Trash Βat

Roman was in awe. He thought this level of insanity was over, and hated that this was the beginning. The two of them were still incredible to witness as their sharp bold moves shifted into a sort of rapid tango. Virgil seemed to be leading, if only because Remus was showing off, but Roman knew they could switch in an instant and stay in sync.

Once more with a smile

Broken teeth and empty eyes

As they seemed to finish another round of "don't step on my feet" in style, Virgil grabbed Remus' waist and dipped him. Remus tumbled out of his grasp. He faced his emo and goaded him with his hands.

In my mean light

My my my Trash Bat

Virgil ran at him and dropped to the floor, sliding under Remus as he jumped into the air. Virgil rolled onto his front and crawled toward Remus with his legs trailing behind him. He swiftly took a knee and nodded to the duke, holding his hands out and open.

Flies οr the flames

Wear nο halo 'rοund my head

Οh blessed be

Remus ran at him, ready to make some waves! He pressed a foot on Virgil's hands and jumped as the emo flung him to the ceiling. He grabbed onto the largest chandelier and swung on it, giggling and kicking his feet.

Virgil snickered at how happy Remus looked and snapped his fingers. Remus only got more giddy as thousands of spiders flooded in through the windows. Patton was the first one out of there, followed swiftly by the majority of the crowd. And then Remus set the curtains on fire.

Κeep it clean

Κeep it clean fοr the camera

When no one else was in the building, except for Roman, Virgil banished the spiders and stood under the chandelier with open arms.

"What the hell was that!?" Roman huffed and marched up to Virgil, "I thought you were done wreaking havoc!" Virgil shrugged and winced as Remus fell into his arms.

"He wasn't planning on causing problems til I seduced him!" Remus laughed, "But it was worth it! And we livened up this shindig so you're welcome!" He stuck out his tongue at his brother before kissing Virgil's cheek and getting to the ground.

"Are you—? He's my brother and you and he—?" Roman gawked when it hit him.

"Don't sound so surprised!" Remus laughed and leaned against Virgil, "I'm the hot twin! And I get off on mean compliments! You just aren't the right fit for Scare Bear!"

"If you think that I'm jealous, you're wrong. I just can't believe that you and he would even consider each other that way!—especially you, Virgil."

"I'm madly in love with Remus," Virgil admitted shyly, "He's my trash bat." Remus cooed and moved to kiss his cheek, but Virgil had other plans.

He turned his head at just the right moment to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. Roman was gawking like a fish.

"You sneaky sonofabitch!" Remus giggled and clung to him.

"We're gonna go ahead and leave. Thanks for the invite," Virgil mumbled and sank out with Remus, leaving Roman to wrap his head around it all. They earned the following round of cuddles and then some!

#dukexietyweek2021 #sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #dukexiety #fire mention tw #sex menton tw #spider mention tw #song fic #sandyscribed

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katelynn-a-fan · 3 years

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An Eve to Remember

This is my gift of @destinys-dragon. I’ve had creative block for nearly a whole month... I cranked out more than half of this today in 4ish hours so I’m glad to finally be able to gift this to you. I picked one of your more complicated prompts (I think) to write, but I did it!

Ao3

Summary: Thomas Sanders is trying to get a good nights rest for Christmas the next day, but a confusing appearance in his own mind leads him down a different path to... his own living room? Not everything's the same in his mind but by golly he is going to help his Sides the best he can to make sure that that night is the best Christmas (eve) they've had yet.

Parings: LAMP and Dukeciet/Demus

Word count: 4902 / 4.9k

Warning: Disorientation, slightly disturbing visuals, (passionate) Kissing,

Thomas took a few experimental blinks as the heady feeling of drowsiness slowly ebbed away. His hand sluggishly rubbed his brow, insistent on kneading the fuzziness in his head out. Maybe then he could remember exactly how he got there.

Where am I?

His eyes very, very slowly adjusted to surroundings as his hands skirted across the tile-

The… tile… under him?

Why is there tile under me? That shouldn't be there unless I’m-

“Oh, you’re finally here!” His own voice called out from above him, but that wasn’t something unknown to him. What was unknown to him is how he got to where he was at that moment.

Thomas craned his neck towards the familiar pair of Warby Parker glasses and the soft gray and light blue blur of Patton. Another agonizing blinks passed before Thomas’s eyes finally resolved Patton’s face and his… blue and grey Christmas sweater? Even with the different attire, Patton’s signature grin was just as wide as always.

“Huh… hey Patton… Um…” Thomas bit his lip, his eyes glancing at various features around him. Sticking his hand out, Patton’s grin dipped a few millimeters as Thomas accepted Patton’s hand. Quickly pulling him up, Patton smoothed his thumb over Thomas’s knuckles.

“Yes, Thomas?”

He lingered his gaze around the clear space he was in, the short hallway of his own apartment. His gaze scoured every inch of the space, and everything about it just screamed: Different!

“This… isn’t my actual apartment.”

Smile tilting sideways on his face, Patton wrapped his hands fully around Thomas’s.

“Of course it isn’t, silly! You’re asleep right now!”

Thomas’s hands flexed a little between Patton’s hands.

“I am? I’ve never done this before though- Been here with you guys before, I mean.”

Gently turning his hands, Patton made his grip into a proper handhold and began to lead Thomas down the much, much longer than usual corridor.

Laughing slightly Patton turned back to Thomas with a very sly twinkle in his eye.

“Oh you have, you just don’t remember afterwards-”

“Wait what-”

“Daddy! You left me alone with the cookies and nothing to fuck and I got myself dirty!”

Thomas jumped as he finally rounded the nonsensical corner into his dream kitchen. Remus was standing on the counter with a fair amount of beige matter spattering his outfit, hair, and even his moustache.

Letting go of Thomas’s hand finally, Patton grabbed a rag and quickly dampened it in the sink before tossing it up to Remus. Immediately snatching it out of the air, Remus bounced on the balls of his feet before sitting on the counter instead and swinging his legs as he cleaned himself off.

“Here you go! I’m surprised you didn’t set the kitchen on fire like last time.”

Hands pausing on his face, Remus’s legs quickly stopped swinging as Remus’s eyes went wide and he pushed his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I only make a mess when I’m not actually making something! That time I wasn’t even cooking anything.”

Placing a hand on Remus’s shoulder, Patton squeezed Remus’s shoulder.

“Hey, I believe you. It’s not everyday we do this. I’m sorry I assumed-”

Remus brushed off Patton’s hand from his shoulder after a moment, but grabbed it just before it was too far.

“Nah I’m kidding about being mad, dear Daddy! Fires are just one of the hazards of being me!”

Making eye contact, Patton smiled at Remus once again.

“Well that’s good! Thomas is here, though I think you knew that already.”

A smirk immediately plastered onto Remus’s face as he glanced over to where Thomas had been shifting from foot to foot in the kitchen entrance.

“Ah, our resident Thomas the Dank Engine! Have you ever had dreams of sugar dicks dancing through your head?”

Thomas’s smile slowly turned wooden as a bitter taste invaded his mouth at Remus’s words. Skin crawling slightly, Thomas swallowed down a small lump in his throat before he managed to reply.

I just want something wholesome. I don’t want to be thinking of that when I’m watching my parents or when I myself open presents.

“Uh, no…?”

“Well you just might have some after tonight!” Cackling, Remus stood back up on the counter before impossibly scurrying up the cupboards. The ceiling stretched impossibly high and out so that Remus slowly became just a pair of eyes in a dark cavern above the kitchen. Luckily, the moment didn’t last long and just as fast, Remus was scrambling down the cupboards once again to sit on the counter beside Patton.

Patton’s expression didn’t betray anything other than acute disinterest, however his hands silently tumbled over each other for a few moments.

“Well, Thomas, come here! We’re baking everything for the others!” Waving his hand invitingly, Patton gestured also to the oven where the oven light revealed a tray of cookies, a full blown turkey, a slab of ham, as well as some other things that managed to fill the impossibly big oven.

Thomas finally stepped forward.

Nose twitching a little, Thomas was suddenly bombarded with the strong smell of cookies.

“Whoa! This kitchen smells like the perfect Christmas, Pat!”

Chuckling, Patton wrapped his arms around Thomas in a quick hug.

“Well that’s the idea, kiddo!”

Squinting, he followed Patton with his eyes as Patton stepped back, the sensation of Patton’s embrace lingering on his skin.

“Did you just sneak in that hug because you ever get to in my videos? That hug seemed very targeted.”

Cheeks quickly turning pink, Patton nearly ducked his head away as he stepped back against the sink.

“That may be part of the reason.”

At that moment, the words embroidered on Patton and Remus' sweater finally revealed themselves.

Patton’s predictably read: Feliz Navi Dad and a Happy Blue Year.

But Remus’s was nearly illegible as the chaos of neon green on black made it almost unreadable, eventually, the words came together to spell out: I’m theTrashman and I’ll have all your wrapping paper.

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but a sound in the short distance caught his attention instead. He turned towards the source, over the counter and surely into the living room, but was met with the strangely comforting void of black beyond it.

“What’s happening in the living room? And why can’t I see it?”

Glancing fleetingly at the black void, Patton bounced over to Thomas.

“Oh that’s just your mind doing it’s thing. Not everything in this mind kitchen is going to be exactly the same, and sometimes when something’s changed, it just becomes blank space. It’s nice.” Patton gestured past Thomas towards the other direction both of them came from. “By the way, it’s not just us who’re here, everyone else is down the hall. You don’t have to stay talking with us. We still have a bit to do anyways.”

Eyes widening, Thomas whipped around towards the entrance of the kitchen and strained his ears towards the faint sounds from down the hall Thomas hadn’t been paying any attention to until now.

“There’s more to this place?”

A sparkle in his eyes had Patton’s smile widening and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yes! And you can go wherever you want. This is your head after all.”

Thomas took an initial step towards the edge of the kitchen before he turned around and gave both a fleeting look and a comforting smile before he stepped out of the kitchen with a wave.

Just like the hallway from the entrance, the space between the hallway and the living room was strange, even the sounds were farther than they should’ve been.

The slightly harsher light from the overhead kitchen light slowly faded to something much more muted and pleasant as Thomas treaded carefully down the short end of the hallway to where the sounds of the other were coming from.

Shoulders the slightest bit hunched, Thomas tentatively peeked out from the corner of the hallway where it opened up into the living room. With a gasp, Thomas nearly fell into the living room at the sight that lay before him.

The space was definitely recognizable as his apartment, yet somehow completely different. Instead of the smaller dimensions of his real apartment, the living room was now a much larger open space full of architecture reminiscent of a log cabin.

The staircase was still there, but was made of the more rustic wood like everything else. Something completely and entirely new was the roaring fire in a fireplace below the TV that was mounted above it instead of being in the corner like usual.

Not only that, but everything was also decorated to the nines in Christmas decorations, tinsel strung on the mantle very delicately and securely, a wreath on some of the posts, and the main attraction, the Christmas tree twinkling in the dim firelight.

As for the others, they were hovering near the Christmas tree. Logan was closest to Thomas, back to Thomas as he faced everyone else. Janus was hunched over the very bottom of the tree, placing a golden ornament among the gold and silver ornaments near the bottom of the tree.

Thomas frowned, his hands coming to clasp in front of him as his eyes fell on Virgil and Roman.

Virgil was swaying as he sat upon Roman’s shoulders. Reaching up, he hesitated at each little sway to put the purple colored ornament near the top of the very tall tree.

As a particularly violent sway sent both of them nearly off balance, Thomas nearly bolted forward to catch them, but Logan simply took a step towards them and pushed gently at a specific part of Roman’s back. The gesture was so subtle that Roman didn’t even pause as he laughed, securing Virgil on his shoulders without a glance backwards at Logan.

Even Roman didn’t notice, Thomas had, and he smiled at Logan as he came back to a different spot, but just as far away as the previous spot from the tree.

Something unusually tense in Logan’s back has Thomas’s feet immediately bringing him up beside Logan.

Thomas placed a hand on Logan’s arm once he was close enough. However, Logan quickly began to step to the side, but Thomas’s grip remained, halting Logan as soon as he began to move.

Neither of them said anything, a simple nod passing between them before the simultaneously turned back to watch Virgil and Roman’s antics.

“They are somehow so careful and yet so reckless. I can’t understand them sometimes.”

“Do they know they could’ve just conjured a ladder to do this?”

Turning to Thomas, Logan leveled a single eyebrow at Thomas, his expression still neutral.

“Sure, but then we wouldn’t get to see this… entertaining display.”

A slight upturn of Logan’s lips and a dusting of pick on his cheeks had Thomas looking back to the teetering disaster waiting to happen. Then back at Roman and Virgil. Then back at Logan.

A smile of Thomas’s own blossomed on his face.

Even the message on Logan’s dark blue and black sweater emphasized the moment, showing the periodic table with elements labeled Cu, Ti, E, all highlighted.

But Thomas didn’t address that as Logan subtly moved his hands behind his back, the edge of an object in his hand peeking out for a split second

“What is that in your hand? I see you hiding it.”

Bringing his hands farther away from Thomas with the offending item, Logan’s Adam’s apple bobbed conspicuously before Logan cleared his throat and spoke.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mouth popping open, Thomas’s mouth was open in the ghost of a word before he froze, his face falling as his eyes darted back and forth a bit. Straightening his back, Thomas closed his mouth before placing a subtle, comforting hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“Oh, I suppose it’s a secret? Well then I won’t spoil it. Wouldn’t want to force your hand,” Thomas lightly tapped his pointer finger to his lips with a small smirk on his face. “I won’t keep you from whatever you’re doing.”

And with that, Thomas gave Logan a wink and stepped over to where Janus was still half bent over the tree.

“Hey Janus.”

Janus glanced up with his usual impassive expression, but the moment he met Thomas’s eyes, Janus’s face immediately melted into the smallest of smiles. The moment didn’t last long, a look from Janus returned by Thomas.

“Ah our creator. My humblest greetings.”

“I’m not your creator Janus. You are as much a part of me as I am in this place.”

“And yet, each of us here are so incredibly different. All thanks to you.”

Thomas’s cheeks heated rapidly, though his level expression suggested he was trying not to acknowledge that fact.

“Whatever.”

Both of them turned as Roman and Virgil began to exclaim, something about going too fast, lost in the flurry of limbs as they once again began to fall, but this time righted themselves completely unaided.

They each took a few moments, muttering words only each other could hear before Roman’s eyes turned to the bottom of the tree and the most incredulous sound imaginable came from his lips.

“Why must you defy everything I planned for this tree Mr. Slick and Grinchy?”

Crouching down, Janus made no effort to reply or react at all at first. He completed the gesture of placing the ornament and standing back up before his eyes even flickered to Roman in the slightest.

“Society is an illusion and so is perfect beauty or aesthetic.”

Roman frowned, huffing as he crossed his arms.

“I may not understand what exactly that means, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re wrong about that! The ornaments should be evenly distributed across the tree instead of all of those ornaments being at the bottom.”

However, despite the passionate speech, Janus’s expression remained neutral, a yawn that appeared 100% genuine only adding to the message.

“Well, when you finally conjure that ladder, I’ll be happy to place some of these nearer to the top.”

Roman’s gasp this time was devoid of all it’s incredulousness this time, his eyes bugging out as he gently slapped his head with his hand the best he could while holding onto Virgil.

“It’s not often I say this, but… Mr. Humbug, you’re righ-”

“It’s time!” Thomas jumped, turning around to Patton’s head sticking out from the hallway. They made eye contact and Patton jerked his head back in the direction of the hall.

“Hey Thomas, some help with the drinks, Remus and I got the food.”

Rubbing his jaw, Thomas glanced back at Janus and Roman, their quick glances toward each other making Thomas’s breath catch.

“Sure Pat, I’m coming…”

Sending one last glance back at the trio with an apologetic smile, Thomas turned and walked past Patton back into the kitchen where the steaming mugs of hot cocoa sat for Thomas to bring. Remus already had a platter of pristine Christmas cookies and a full ham and a turkey and-

Eyes bugging out once again, Thomas’s eyes were locked onto Remus as he went down the hall with the entire contents of the oven carried in his 6 total hands.

Patton, on the other hand, had only two side dishes in his hands as he passed Thomas. Nodding towards the steaming mugs, Patton stepped back towards the living room.

“Just grab the trays, everything’s lighter here than you would expect, so you won’t have to much to handle.”

Opening his mouth, Thomas’s words died on his lips once again as Patton disappeared around the corner, leaving Thomas to his duty of bringing the drinks.

Thankfully, just as Patton said, the trays were exponentially lighter than they looked with 3-4 mugs on each of them. So Thomas easily picked up and brough the mugs back down the hallway.

But everything came to a sudden halt when Thomas stepped back into the living room.

He had to have been gone less than a minute, but the whole atmosphere in the living room had drastically shifted from a slight Christmas feel to full blown nostalgia Christmastime feeling. The tree had every inch covered in ornaments now, the fire was roaring somehow more than before and everyone was seated comfortably on the many couches that faced the TV with plates and utensils a plenty.

It took all Thomas’s effort not to drop both those dang platters as his feet almost instantaneously rooted him to the spot as his mouth dropped open at how fast everything had suddenly come together.

“Thomas- snrk- You okay there?” Virgil’s smug voice came from one of the furthest couches, Virgil sitting on the arm of the couch, but slowly sinking down towards the proper place.

Jolting, Thomas abruptly cleared his throat and nodded as his eyes continued to take in the living room, his voice not at all convincing.

“Uh, yes? Uh….no? I think… this is just… wow.”

Each of Sides looked to one another, a similar expression of wide open eyes at how awed Thomas sounded. They had done that. Only Janus managed not to look bothered, but by the way Remus rolled his eyes in Janus’s direction, there was more than meets the eye under the impassive half smile Janus had managed to pull off.

Soon, however, Thomas was stepping forward once again, not yet completely over the sight, but recovered enough that he could mostly properly function again.

Without a word, Thomas handed everyone a drink according to the cups, each of them the sides usual colors with an animal design/theme.

The last one left on the tray for Thomas was a chaotic blend of all of them, cutesy animals and a rainbow design.

“Oh… I love that. It’s perfect.”

Patton, who was sitting comfortably with Logan on a couch, leaned over the arm of their couch and patted Roman’s arm as best he could on the other couch.

“See, I told you he’d love it.”

And with that, all of them dug in, the hum of conversation washing over Thomas as he got what he wanted from each of the platters.

It was like only an instant had passed when Roman finally bolted up, bouncin on his toes in all his excitement.

“Is everyone done? Because if we are, then it’s time for presents!”

Presents went by just as fast as each of the Sides revealed their presents for each other.

Logan was first with a scrapbook for Patton of all the memories from the preparations, each of them laughing and preparing the day as well as some sneakily hidden shots from the meal. He even took a picture of Patton’s completely awed look, instructing Patton to turn to the last page to see the very picture already in the book.

It probably took five minutes for Patton to stop borderline choking Logan with a hug, and even more than that for Patton to stop crying happy tears into Logan’s Christmas sweater.

Patton’s present was for Janus.

Janus was leaning just slightly away from the present as he opened it, ready for something disappointing, perhaps. But instead a moment of pure joy flashed across Janus’s face as he opened it. Sure, his expression immediately hid that that moment had even existed, but every Side had watched him, so there was no hiding it.

Inside Janus’s present was everything a cold-blooded, snake themed side would want, a snake plushie and onesie as well as a heated and weighted blanket.

Still, with Janus’s blatant slip, he still schooled his expression as he extracted each from the packaging.

Janus had Virgil.

Thomas and Logan had frowned at the small package Virgil had been handed by Janus, aas did Virgil himself.

But Virgil was more curious than anything, as even though Janus was one to play tricks, this small package was small enough it was likely not to be one.

What nobody expected was the utter ear-piercing squeal that came from Virgil after a moment of gazing at his unwrapped present.

“How? You found an exclusive version of-”

“I know you love MCR, and found that, as luck would have it, in the recesses of Thomas’s mind. It helps to be a bit more experienced with all things not conscious. I-”

In a surprising move for everyone, Virgil cut Janus’s ramble short with a slamming hug.

There weren’t nearly as many tears as Patton’s reaction to his gift, but if there were a few tears that leaked into Janus’s sweater, Janus made no comment as Virgil finally pulled back, sheeks red as the reality of what he had just done sunk in.

Virgil had presents for both of the twins, a thing of slime that looked like sewage and other fun things for Remus and a set of copic markers for Roman.

Remus was immediate in unveiling his slime and beginning to play with it, but Roman was hesitant.

“I have plenty of markers, virgil, not that I am ungrateful for them, but what led you to this as my gift.”

Virgil tensed just ever so slightly before pushing a piece of paper in front of Roman.

“Just try them, idiot.”

Roman once again huffed in annoyance.

“Alright, Panic at the Disco.”

Roman tried out each of the colors, but soon found the paper to be too small for testing them out, and eventually, the color ran over each other, but when they did, Roman completely froze.

In all Roman’s time, he had never had markers that actually blended when you layered them. And that’s when it clicked in Roman’s expression, eyes widening like everyone else’s had when they opened their presents.

This time, of all times, Roman instantly apologized, nearly giving the markers back as his increasingly reddening face sunk deeper into his sweater. It wasn’t until Logan announced his own present was next that Roman had the courage to emerge, still rosy cheeked, but less so.

To complete the circle of gifts, the twins had Logan’s present. And they took their time in handing to Logan, as if what was inside was fragile or important.

Logan treated the gift the same, taking great care in unwrapping the gift before staring down at the gift of a very important looking notebook.

Without having to be asked, both of the twins wove a tale of watching Logan struggle to create a good schedule for Thomas, even clashing with Roman himself. But Remus was the one who continued, talking about how he had garnered some information from the non-conscious part of Thomas’s brain on how to tap into it to cement an idea or plan.

The notebook, when written in, would cement whatever idea was in it into Thomas’s mind, bring it to the forefront without completely intruding. It was the perfect thing to help Thomas listen to Logan more.

Thomas should’ve been more outraged that Logan had to have something like this to even be listened to, but his own logic had always been overshadowed by feelings at times. It was the best thing he could do to go over to Logan and hug him when he saw the tension in Logan’s body and the refusal to meet Thomas’s eyes.

The instant Thomas wrapped his arms around Logan, his body stiffened even more before just as quickly completely melting into Thomas completely. Fingers running through Logan’s hair, Thomas whispered out quiet assurances.

“No, don’t you dare feel guilty about not being heard. You shouldn't have to be ‘tempted’ to make me listen ‘against my will.’ You are a part of me that I need to listen to, and I trust you enough to allow this greater power over me. If I didn’t want this, my creativity- creavtivities wouldn’t have made this for you.”

That was enough to stop the slight shivering as Logan pulled back with uncharacteristically soft and vulnerable eyes, wide and awe-filled.

“Really?” Logan’s voice was barely a breath.

“Really.” Thomas echoed, squeezing Logan gently before letting go and sitting back beside him.

Still keeping Logan in the corner of his eye, Thomas turned to Remus and Roman who were still in front of them with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“Now, each of you check your pockets now,” Both of them snapped in unison as Roman spoke. “You should find something new there.”

With varying levels of excitement and wariness each of them reached into their pockets to produce a jagged piece of something. When the twins were met with blank stare at the reason for these gifts, neither of them faltered.

“Each of you, gather around the coffee table and place your piece down, we have ours as well.”

Eyebrow raised, Thomas obliged, as did the rest of the Sides after. As each of them placed their piece on the table, the idea slowly came into shape, though as always it was Logan’s face to light up first in realization.

“Now each of you arrange your pieces the best you can to create a complete shape, there is only one way these pieces fit together, but we’ll let you figure it out.”

It only took a moment for each of their voices to vy to be heard, only Logan holding his tongue as he had likely already figured it out and a stern but gentle glare from Roman to not ruin it for everyone. Roman did pointedly glance at the notebook he and Remus had just given him, permission to slyly get back at Roman is however he saw fit in what he guided Thomas towards.

Surprisingly, it was Patton who first exclaimed the solution.

“Oh that’s so cute! It’s a star!”

Judging by the grumbles that arose from Janus, he might have been close to that solution himself, but was beaten to the punch by Patton’s exclamation.

“You got it! This our gift to all of you.”

In any case, after that the 7 of them arranged their pieces so that the star design appeared. Thomas’s pink piece was at the top, with Virgi’s purple and Roman’s red sitting beside it. For now, the star was devoid of orange, but full of the rest of the sides neon yellows, lush greens and two distinct peaceful blues.

The star was still a 5 pointed star, which made the piece placement a little more complicated, but eventually they were able to press the pieces together. When they did the star flashed brightly before suddenly zooming out of everyone’s grip and alighting on the tree.

Once the star was in its place, snow suddenly began to fall from the ceiling silently. Even Remus and Roman’s mouth fell open as the first flakes settled onto them.

Each of the Sides and Thomas gazed up at least once to try to find where they were coming from, but they just appeared a few inches from the ceiling and fell down to them.

Even with the mystery, all of them slowly succumbed to the urge to enjoy the indoor snow. Whether it was trying to catch a flake with their tongue or immediately catching as much snow in one place to attempt a snowball, the formality of the gift giving was completely gone and replaced with the unbridle fun of playing in the snow.

“Wait… where… Where did that mistletoe come from? We never put that up.” Virgil pointed to a sprig of mistletoe above where Janus and Remus were gathering snow, Janus gathering most of it while Remus made balls of snow.

Both Janus and Remus looked up in unison, eyeing the sprig before looking at each other.

“I don’t care, come here Jani-bear. I want to get steamy enough that the snow starts melting.”

Even Thomas rolled his eyes at the pet name and the cheesy line, but couldn’t help fawning over Janus’s reaction.

Face turning bright red, it was Janus who took the initiative to pull Remus’s collar and kiss him. Responding in kind after a moment to recover, Remus responded by mouthing into the kiss just as passionately.

A gasp from behind Thomas had him turning to yet another sprig of mistletoe, this time above the four other sides, each of them turning red as they turned their face up to it.

Surprisingly, Patton was the first to place a quick kiss on Logan’s lips, with Roman just behind him sweeping Virgil into a kiss of his own.

Thomas's chest filled with warmth as he watched his sides kiss each other, their love an extension of his own self love. The sensation filled him outwards from his chest up to his head and down to the tip of his toes.

It wasn’t until he was staggering, though, that it hit him that maybe the warmth wasn’t just love, that the blanket he didn’t exactly remember wrapping around himself was warming him up pleasantly as well.

Eyes dropping, Thomas made it to the couch, lying down to answer the call of his mind, the warm embrace of sleep ever stronger on him.

A familiar voice echoed softly in his head just at the cusp of sleep

“This is our present for you, Thomas, a pleasant dream by our sides enjoying Christmas together.”

The picture of his Sides’ concerned faces hovering over him faded as the pleasant feelings of the night carried him off into proper, joy filled dreams.

Thomas smiled, nuzzling into his pillow, asleep and content.

#sander sides fic #sanders sides #christmas #christmas fic #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #romantic lamp #Romantic Dukeceit #Romantic Demus #kissing

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logical-little-lies · 4 years

Text

Playtime or Bedtime?- Agere!Sides AU (pt. 37)

A/N: So basically I logged off, didn’t write agere stuff for a bit, and realized all of my agere-related fanfiction definitely needed updated. Here’s a cute little set-aside chapter about Little Virgil+ Caregiver Roman, that kinda steps away from the main darkside plot. Cute, short, and simple. I hope you guys like it! (It’s only around 1200 words, shorter than most of the other chapters in this series)

"Dada, play! Pleaseeee!" Virgil was definitely a little bigger than he usually was while regressed. He was also very playful, to say the least.

"Baby, it's bedtime, come on." Roman knew Virgil to not defy him much at all, so he expected that he'd be able to push bedtime just a little bit, and Virgil would give in. Virgil sat on his knees in his bed. He wore his day clothes still, which was his light purple onesie paired with black overalls.

"Dada pretty," Virgil stood up on the bed, distracting himself and putting his hand on Roman's face. He shyly complimented Roman a lot, just because Roman is who he had to look up to while little, and he found it nice to compliment him. Roman thought it was very sweet.

"Thank you very much baby. Now lets get you out of these overalls and brush your teeth!" Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil's waist, so that the boy faced him and couldn't move much.

"Don't wanna!" he whined, managing to wiggle out of his arms and go to the other side of the bed. He bounced in place after sitting down, giggling a bit.

"Darling, don't you wanna cuddle and listen to your baby music? And I could even tell you a story!" Roman offered, thinking the extra story would make him agree.

"Oh..." Virgil gave a pout, thinking for a moment.

"We will have all the time in the world tomorrow to play together, baby bat! For now though, playtime is over," Roman said, coming over and sitting next to Virgil. He wrapped his arm around Virgil's shoulder. Virgil pushed his arm off and crossed his own arms.

"No."

Roman almost had the urge to laugh, just from some sort of shock. He looked at Virgil, processing his actions and trying to determine if that was real.

"What was that, honey?" Roman spoke softly and sweetly, trying to remain caring and restrain from being overly harsh on the boy.

"No, no, no! Not sleepy!" he shouted, getting off the bed and running to hide behind something. He settled on his closet door, not shutting it completely and only peeking out behind it a little.

"Virgil, do we shout when we get upset?" Roman asked simply.

"Um...no?" Roman heard Virgil's high pitched voice from behind the closet door. He was hoping he'd be able to coax him out without having to force him to get out.

"That's right. I understand that you want to play, and that you don't feel sleepy, but you know the rules. If you really don't feel tired yet, we can run a bath and let you play in there. Baths always make you sleepy," Roman was having a hard time scolding him at all.

"But I thought it was bedtime?" Virgil peeked his head out more, his face showing fear and guilt.

"Yes, it is. But a small bath is always good, and it wouldn't take long."

Virgil looked down, nodding.

"Baby, come here please." Roman shifted, opening his arms with a motion. Virgil slowly came out, going back over to the bed and sanding in front of Roman. Roman gave a light nod, and he climbed up into his lap.

"Remember what we talked about?" Roman questioned.

"Um...about how I should tell you how I feel so that we can make co..comp-compromises?" he stumbled over the last word, and Roman nodded.

'That's right, baby. You being playful and not wanting to sleep yet is understandable, but if you were to tell me that you just weren't tired yet, maybe I would've offered the bath before you snapped at me." Roman could tell Virgil was getting to that point where he felt overly guilty, he got the same way when he was little.

The difference was, Roman was bratty all the time, and usually it was direct acts of defiance, and it took him longer to get to that guilty stage. Virgil, however, rarely broke rules, and when he did, it was almost always him not knowing how to communicate his feelings or what he wanted. He'd snap, or stomp his foot, or just not listen because Roman wasn't understanding him, or he was mad and didn't know how else to show it. And for Virgil, that after-state of guilt and regret comes immediately.

"So next time what are you gonna try to do better?" Roman asked, looking at Virgil, who was in his lap. Roman has assumed Virgil was just trying to avoid going to bed to keep playing, but he did know that Virgil did have genuine issues sleeping well, and that sometimes he just wasn't tired. In those cases, he needed help getting sleepy. It was hard to tell the difference between Virgil just wanting to play, and him probably not being tired enough to actually sleep yet.

"Tell you that I'm not sleepy yet and that..and dat-" Virgil cut himself off, sniffling, obviously trying to choke back tears. He looked down. Roman wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed him into a soft hug. He kissed the side of Virgil's head.

"Oh, Vee. I love you so much, you know that, right?" he sighed, looking at him. If the boy felt so guilty over one little shout and a few bratty actions, then Roman probably didn't have to worry about much other behavioral issues in the future. Virgil nodded, rubbing beneath his eyes.

"Daddy mad?" he mumbled, looking down and putting his hands on top of Roman's. The soft innocence in his voice had Roman feel bad for even trying to push bedtime so much in the first place.

"Daddy isn't mad at you, Baby Bat. I promise," Roman let Virgil take his hand into his and start fiddling with it. He would take one finger at a time and lightly squeeze it, or tap it, or rub a pattern. It was something for him to do to help calm down anxiety. Logan had mentioned multiple times that this probably meant that Little Virgil needed some sort of stimming toy, or just something he was able to fiddle with when he got nervous. Roman knew he was probably right, especially when Janus spoke up too, but Big Virgil always insisted that it wasn't needed.

"Pwomise?" Virgil's voice was very much littler. He looked up with glossy eyes at Roman.

"I'm not even upset, Little Angel." Roman felt Virgil melt into his touch more.

"I in trouble?" he asked, looking down at Roman's hands again and continuing to fiddle with his fingers.

Roman looked at him, "No, baby. Remember your rule list?"

Virgil nodded a bit. "Your only two punishments are timeouts and talking to me about what you did, which we've already done. You're not in trouble anymore, baby."

Virgil seemed relieved at that, leaning into Roman's touch more. "Now, how does that bath sound?" Roman questioned. Virgil giggled as Roman lifted him up and put him on his feet.

Roman was right, a quick bubble bath, with kids strawberry scented body wash, was enough to make Virgil sleepy. He played in the bubbles, and giggled a lot when Roman told him not to splash to much. And before either of them knew it, Virgil was cuddled up next to Roman, fast asleep..

And neither of them would wish for anything more.

#ts agere #ts agere au #little virgil #virgil agere #cg roman #cgroman #littlevirgil #sanderssidesagere #sanders sides agere

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vindicatedvirgil · 4 years

Text

only fools rush in / part two: a botanical garden and deep conversations

hi there! this is part two of my college au, if you haven’t read part one you can click here to do so!

spotify playlist here

this chapter is centered around Remus and Patton, the other characters are very minimal here. so, don’t get mad about the lack of Virgil or Roman or anything (i miss them too, it’s okay).

read until the very end for a teaser and the title of part three!

TW: mentions of bad things happening to Roman during high school (no specifics... yet)

next update will be on Sunday, July 26.

---

“I don’t think that I can do this,” Remus was pacing in the living room, Virgil and Janus were sitting on the couch; they shared a look, and both of them rolled their eyes. “I mean, he’s so soft, and so cute, and he’s Roman’s roommate!” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “What if I mess this up and Roman gets hurt or Patton gets hurt, fuck fuck fuck!”

“Remus,” Janus started, his voice flat. “I don’t think that you’re going to fuck this up. Patton’s not like the other guys you’ve dated, he’s special, and I think you know that.” Remus groaned, glancing out the window. It was so late on Friday night that it had bled into Saturday, and he had been panicking for the majority of the night, which frustrated the other two who were trying to watch a movie. Eventually the TV had been shut off and their attention focused on their friend, who grew more disheveled as the night wore on.

“He’s right,” Virgil said quietly. “In the time we’ve known you, which is what, like, three years or something? Every person you’ve dated has been a total asshole. Kind of like you, but… worse,�� Remus whined, and Virgil just shook his head. “That was a compliment, idiot.”

“I think what our emo friend is trying to say is that Patton isn’t like those other guys you’ve dated,” Janus continued, giving a dirty look to Virgil. “I’ve never seen you so panicked over a first date, so I think that means that this is… real for you. You’re going to take this one seriously.” Remus sighed then moved to lay on his back on the floor, eyes fluttering shut.

"Do I dress nice for my date? Or do I look the same as usual?”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Patton was laying down, his head hanging off of the foot of his bed. Roman was sitting cross-legged on the floor and Logan was sitting on the desk chair, a yawn escaping as he rubbed his eyes. “What if I’m not what he wants me to be?” He hugged his stuffed animal frog closer to his chest. “What if it turns out that he doesn’t actually like me?”

“Ugh, I told you, Patton, he’s never acted this way around anybody, at least not that I’ve seen,” Roman said, annoyance coming through in his tone of voice. He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to make sure that Patton went on the date with Remus, but he did want to see his friend happy; and, as much as he hated it, he’d like to see his brother be happy, too. “He always dates these jerks who sell drugs or wear all leather and ride motorcycles. They treat him like trash and then throw him out onto the streets when they’re done.”

“Well, that doesn’t help!” Patton whined, curling up into a ball. “What if he wants me to be something that I’m not? Do you think he only wants to go out with me because I’m so different from the others he’s dated? How many people has he actually dated?” Patton’s tone was growing more high-pitched with every question. Logan adjusted his glasses, sighing.

“Patton, these are all illogical questions,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve spent a little bit of time with Remus since he tends to be around when I’m with Janus, and I do not think that he would ask you to be his metaphorical crutch to figure out if he wants a softer partner. Additionally, why does it matter how many people he has dated?” Logan’s question was pointed, “What should matter is how you portray yourself to him on your date tomorrow so he sees the kind of person that you are. You want him to see the real you, right? Then that’s what you need to do.”

“But what if he doesn’t like the real me?” Patton asked. Of course Logan knew Patton’s intricacies, they’d been friends for so long, but the small man was always unsure if his overly logical friend meant it when he said they were best friends or if he was Patton’s friend out of convenience or just… circumstance.

“Why wouldn’t anyone like the real you, Pat? You’re awesome! And if he doesn’t see that I can knock some sense into him, lord knows I had to do that enough as a kid,” Roman scoffed, stretching his arms out. “I think that the more important question is… what are you going to wear tomorrow?”

Patton was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Standing near the entrance to the botanical gardens, he tried to stand on the tips of his toes to see if Remus was walking towards him, but he hadn’t yet caught sight of the biomed major. Patton had, of course, arrived half an hour earlier than they had agreed upon, but he thought that maybe Remus would show up early, too.

He hadn’t, but Patton didn’t mind. He kept fidgeting with the sleeves on his jean jacket and hoped it wouldn’t get too warm; he was wearing a floral shorts romper underneath but hated carrying around his jacket when it got hot out. As he continued to wait, he dug through his messenger bag, hoping Remus wouldn’t judge him for his polaroid camera. Patton loved taking photos with it; he hung all of them with clothespins on his fairy lights in his bedroom, so he was always surrounded by the people and things that he loved.

As he was leaning down to pull his knee-high socks back up since they were drooping, he heard some familiar footsteps. He looked up and saw Remus, dressed in his usual attire, smiling down at him. “Hey there, little flower,” Remus cooed, and Patton turned red immediately, returning the smile.

“Hi, Remus!” His voice came out a little more high-pitched than usual, but he was just so darn excited to see Remus. He wasn’t sure if he should hug the taller man, and hesitated for a moment. Remus gave him an intrigued look, and then Patton flung himself into his arms gently. Remus wrapped his arms around him softly, humming happily. “You’re softer than I expected.”

“Oh? Well, I can get hard if you’d like,” Remus teased, making Patton blush harder. The small man backed up, looking at Remus’ face and realizing it was a joke, so he smiled sheepishly. “So, have you ever been to this botanical garden before?”

“No, I didn’t even know it existed!” Patton responded, the two turning towards the entrance. It was a free walk-through, so they walked in, and noticed how few people were in attendance. Patton was surprised at how few people were there on a Saturday afternoon. He had so many questions for the other man, he wanted to talk about so many things, but never knew how to start conversations like that.

“How did you meet Roman?” Remus broke the silence as the two rounded a corner into an area filled with rose bushes. He leaned down to smell one of them and Patton did the same, smiling as he stood back up.

“We were in a general education class together last year. I think it was our public speaking class. And we were put together in a group,” Patton explained, walking close to Remus. “I was kind of pushy and we became friends since we have a lot in common. And then I introduced him to Logan, who I’ve known since elementary school!” Remus nodded, looking down.

“You have a lot in common with him, but…” his voice trailed off and he leaned against one of the fences, looking into the koi pond below. “Roman and I are very different. So… you and I might not have a lot in common, little flower.” Patton frowned, standing next to him.

“Roman’s not exactly my type, Remus. Yes, he’s become one of my best friends, but…” Patton paused, thinking of the right way to phrase what he wanted to say. “He’s loud, and animated, and theatrical and… it’s not what I would want in someone that I date.”

“And what is it that you want in someone you date, Patton?” Remus tilted his head, looking at Patton very carefully. The small man’s face contorted in deep thought, and he bit his lips, looking down.

“I… well, someone who is going to expose me to new adventures. I might look soft, Remus, but… I love doing things that make my heart beat fast,” he paused again so Remus could absorb this information. “I want someone who understands how special I can be… but also someone who I can pamper and love with all of my heart.” Remus didn’t say anything, and the two continued their walk through the gardens. Patton stopped him in front of a blooming tree and told him to pose, taking out his polaroid camera.

“Patton, I–”

“Please?” Patton asked, eyes sparkling towards the other man. Remus sighed, then leaned against the tree, giving a small smile to Patton as he crossed his arms. Patton took the photo, then held it between two fingers as it developed. “I have a whole wall of photos in my bedroom. Lots from high school with Lo, but some more recent with Roman, too. And… I wanted to add you, too.” Remus looked down at his feet, smiling softly. The two kept walking after Patton put his camera back in his bag, and Remus brushed his fingers against those of the other. They let their fingers intertwine, and Patton hoped that his hand wasn’t too sweaty. “Can I ask you something?” Patton asked hesitantly. Remus nodded, and the two sat down on a bench, their fingers still intertwined. “Why did you ask me out on a date?”

“Oh. Um…” Remus chuckled awkwardly, running his spare hand through his hair, tousling it up a little bit. “I see something really… unique in you. You’re this puff of pastel, but you’ve got these amazing tattoos,” he expressed this by running his fingers along the exposed tattoos on Patton’s arm. “And… you’re so kind. Everything I’ve heard about you from Ro and Jan… I’d always wanted to meet you. But Ro… he’s protective.”

“Of you?” Patton asked, and Remus laughed, more heartily this time, and shook his head.

“No. He’s protective of his friends,” Remus answered, and a flash of sadness crossed his eyes. “He was always the golden child. Our parents, our teachers, they always… preferred him. He could do no wrong.” Patton frowned, but said nothing as Remus continued to recall these moments. “I was a bit of a reckless one. I couldn’t sit still, I just wanted to crack jokes, and I played these hilarious pranks on Roman and our other classmates.

“When we got to high school, I… went off the deep end. I was hanging around the wrong kind of crowd, you know? And… they hurt Ro. Badly.” Remus looked down at his feet, shame crossing his face. Patton took his hands gently, waiting for the story to finish. “We kind of… broke after that. He never looked at me the same. He hated me, and I did too. So… yeah. He always wants to protect his friends; that’s why you and I hadn’t met until a few weeks ago. I had to prove to him that I was hanging out with better people, that I had become a better person.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton’s voice came out weak, and he was struggling to keep the tears from leaving his eyes. Sometimes he hated how sensitive he could get. “I’m glad that you’re… better… now.”

“Me, too,” Remus still hadn’t looked up. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of birds chirping and the babbling brooks keeping it from being completely quiet around them. “Tell me about why you got your tattoos,” he said finally, fingers still tracing the outlines of sunflowers and daisies.

“My mom is a florist,” Patton responded. He was looking off into the distance at the flowers in front of them. “So, I grew up in our backyard full of flowers, and I spent my summers in high school helping run the shop. When I thought about getting my first tattoo, I knew it had to be flowers.” He pointed to the large sunflower on his wrist. “Once I started with this one, I couldn’t stop. The flowers are bright, and remind me of sunshine and taking care of others.”

“And… that’s why you’re a child development major, isn’t it?” Remus asked. His eyes were focused on the intricate vines connecting all of the tattoos.

“Yeah… my mom took care of me and her garden, and… I want to take care of others, too,” Patton was smiling, and Remus resisted the urge to kiss him right there. But he didn’t want things to move too quickly, and he wanted to make sure that he had Patton’s consent before doing anything like that, so he didn’t say anything, and just kept his eyes on the small man. “Why did you choose biomed and medieval history?” The question brought Remus out of his own mind, and he blinked a few times before registering it.

“Oh. Well… I always liked the dissection labs in my science classes. One of my teachers noticed and… told me about biomed. I’d love to research new treatments, figure out what works and what doesn’t work, work in a lab…” he trailed off, and Patton just watched him with awe. “The medieval history was actually inspired by Roman. He doesn’t know that, though. But… he did this play in high school that was set during the medieval ages, and it just… piqued my interest. So I kept researching, and I want to learn more. Maybe I can do research into the intersections of biomed and medieval history someday.”

“I love how passionate you are about the things you’re studying,” Patton mused, his fingers holding tighter to Remus’. “Like… Roman and Logan are passionate about their areas of study, too, but… in a way that’s almost exhausting. The way you talk about your path is…” Patton’s voice faded out, the words failing him. He wished that he could express his words more clearly, or in a way that sort of made sense, but he wasn’t the best with conversations, he never had been.

“Should we continue our walk around here?” Remus said, breaking the silence again. He didn’t like the silence that kept coming back, but they had covered some really heavy topics, probably things that were too intense for a first date. He didn’t hate that they were talking about those things; he loved hearing what Patton had to say and how things were going, but… he wanted to do something to make his date laugh.

The two stood up from their spot on the bench and walked under an archway towards where there was a display of succulent plants. Remus wanted to hug and hold Patton so badly, but he resigned himself to just holding his hand, watching as Patton named each and every plant they passed as they kept going throughout the gardens.

They had eventually gone around in a full circle, most of their conversation lingering on the types of plants they saw around them, and had arrived back at the koi pond. Patton was leaning over the fence again, watching the colorful fish weave in and out of the way of each other. Remus stood next to him, watching, and when Patton looked up at him with that glimmer of adoration and just… hope.

“Patton, I…” he looked down at his feet, his face heating up. “I would really, um… like to kiss you. I-If that’s okay. I just, I don’t want to mess things up and–” Remus was interrupted by two hands holding onto his face, and before he knew it, he was leaning down, and kissing the softest lips he had ever touched.

“Goodbye, Remus,” Patton said softly, leaning up to kiss Remus’ cheek. “I had a really nice time today.” He smiled, hand on the doorknob to the apartment, and Remus gave him one last, lingering kiss.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, little flower,” the taller man said, and then Patton entered the apartment, closing the door behind him. His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard for the last few hours, the feeling of Remus’ hand in his and his lips on his own ingrained in his mind. They went to a cafe after the botanical gardens and indulged in iced tea and sandwiches and pastries, laughing and smiling and always touching in some way, even if it was just their feet brushing against each other under the table.

Remus wasn’t anything like what Patton had expected. He was still surprised at the choice of date locations, but Remus’ softness and openness towards Patton was a welcome revelation. But Patton had meant it when he said that he had a good time; it was the best first date he had ever been on. And he wished desperately for more.

“Hey, how did it go?” Roman was lounging on the couch, a script in hand, and Logan was sitting at the kitchen counter, working on his laptop. Patton tried to hold back his blush, but he smiled at the other two. “My brother was good to you, right?” Roman’s face was etched with concern.

“It was… absolutely amazing, Ro,” Patton felt his emotions gushing out of him as he set his bag down next to the entrance table. He went over to sit on the couch at Roman’s feet, and the other two followed him with their eyes, waiting for more information. “Remus is so sweet to me. I… I really do like him.” Roman said nothing, instead he just flipped the page in his script, and Logan sighed from the table.

“Roman believes you need to know a few things about Remus’ past before you go further in your relationship. I, however, believe that it should be up to Remus to tell you,” he explained, adjusting his glasses. Patton’s smile instantly turned upside down, but he nodded.

“Remus did tell me. About his past. About what happened. And…” Patton sighed, twisting his fingers together. “I’m sorry that all of that happened, Ro, but… it doesn’t matter to me. Who he is now is who I want to be with.”

“So… you’re going to go out with him again?” Roman asked hesitantly, peeking over his script. Patton nodded, and couldn’t help the small smile that he felt resurface on his face. “Well, I… I’m glad you’re happy, Patton.”

Remus opened the door to the apartment quietly. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, but Janus was in the kitchen, standing over the stove, presumably making dinner. Remus tried to be quiet, tried to just head straight (gAy) for his room, but Janus cleared his throat. When Remus turned to look at him, he was raising an eyebrow, arms crossed, leaning against the archway that led into the kitchen.

“How did it go?” He asked, and Remus looked down, smiling brightly. How could he put into words how amazing the day was? How many butterflies he felt when he was next to Patton, how no one had ever made him feel that way before. Remus looked back up at Janus, realizing that he hadn’t said anything, and shrugged.

“It was…” he still couldn’t find the words, but a string of what he figured to be incoherent sentences began to spill out. “Oh, Jan, you have no idea. He’s so… and I just… it was… I really like him.” Janus nodded, a small smile settling on his face.

“I’ve never seen you act this way, Remus,” he mused. “I’m… glad to see you this way.” Remus smiled at him, then retreated to his room. He glanced at the mess that was always prevalent, setting his backpack down next to the desk.

From his back jeans pocket he took out one of the many polaroid pictures that Patton had taken that day, one of them trying to take a selfie with the camera, Remus’ lips pressed to Patton’s cheek, a goofy smile pasted on the smaller man’s face. He found himself staring at it for a while, then he took his phone out of the pocket and sent a quick text to Patton: want to come over tomorrow?

---

teaser for part three: a dance, some shoes, and an audition

“Sorry. I got, um, a little carried away,” he explained, rolling and twisting the script in his hands.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, returning the smile. “Wouldn’t want you falling head over heels now would we?”

---

---

taglist (send an ask, reblog, or reply if you want to be added)

@winterrose42

@are-you-even–real

@shaded14space

@lallyphant

@deceits-left-glove

@aricana8

@pixelated-pineapple

[masterlist]

#amanda's sanders sides college au #amanda writes sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides college #sanders sides college au #intruality #ts patton #patton sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #ts intruality #prinxiety #loceit

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starshineandbooks · 3 years

Text

Delia sanders and the case of having family

Chapter one, what's sixteen years between family? A disaster.

Word count - 1,613

Pairing - LAMPD

Warnings - implied/referenced child abuse, cursing, threats. Tell me if I missed any

Patton messes up in this one. A lot.

Patton stands beside his partners and children, eyes wide and searching as he looks about the airport for his boyfriend’s brother- Patton’s pseudo brother and unofficial brother-in-law- and someone who’s supposed to be his daughter.

He’s shaky, worried, and of course scared.

What will their daughter think of them? What will she think of her siblings? What if she hates them?

What if-

“Roman! Boys!” Thomas smiles kindly, “You’re here! I sent Remus and Delia to the hotel, I know you wanted to see them here but- They needed to get out of the airport.”

“Same.” Virgil grunts, “Meet you there?”

“Of course! See you soon, oh- I’m so glad you get to see her.”

Time seems frozen and simultaneously fast as they drive to the hotel, Roman and Patton talk, to fill the silence, trying to guess what Remus has been up to, what their daughter likes, if she likes poems and such.

Janus, Logan, and Virgil listen to a murder podcast or other using headphone splitter, Janus and Logan sharing a set of earbuds.

The boys talk happily, excited to meet their sister, the girl in the pictures.

Nico greets them when they arrive, going to Thomas and Nico’s room first, and as if fate does not want them to see Remus and Delia again, the duo have disappeared to get dinner.

Patton wants to scream.

Thomas sits leaning against his husband, Nico’s, side, he speaks of Remus and Cordelia, though he’s said he’ll let them hear most of everything from them, “Remus is okay, he’s protective, of course, he always was. But- this is different. And Delia, she’s charming, but she gets the same look Janus does when she meet people, watch her.”

Logan snorts, “I doubt we wouldn’t.”

Patton feels rather numb to the world, but then the hotel door is opened- Nico answered it- and all heads turn to look.

Remus, tall, wild as ever, and mustached like old times, stands beside a teenage girl. His hair has streaks of grey, Patton suspects that they aren’t dye like they used to be, and his clothes are paint splattered, manic grin in place.

The girl looks foreign, Patton wants so badly to feel some parental tug to her, but he just doesn't, this isn’t his baby. His baby was taken when she was three, here is this strange teenager.

Her brows knit slightly, barely noticeable, then she tilts her head, “Thomas, Nico?”

“Delia!” Thomas grins, “Come on, these are your parents, and brothers I told you about.”

Delia turns her gaze to her parents and brothers, “Nice to meet you,” She looks at her siblings lips quirking upwards, “You three are adorable, you know that?”

“YEs!” Harley and Brian declare together, Pryce giggles outright in lue of response.

“Cordy?” Janus asks, eyes meeting hers.

“I prefer Delia,” She says, “If you don’t mind?”

“Of course, yes! Delia!” PAtton says, and even he winces internally at the jarring peppiness to his voice, “We’re so glad to meet you- I mean- See you again!”

She chuckles, soft, polite- Patton can’t help but think it’s an act, a dirty dirty trick- and she smiles sweetly, eyes almost sparkling, “It’s been a long time, I hate to upset you but I don’t remember you, so it is like a first meeting.”

A dirty trick indeed, Patton thinks to himself. She would make an excellent actor, too bad she has the same tell Janus does, the slight over blinking, though she seems to have learned how to hide even that fairly well.

No one seems particularly inclined to speak, they all stare at her and Remus.

Delia stands fairly tall for a woman, Patton would put money that she is about six foot tall, hair that’s not wavy but not quite curly either in a dark shade, and startlingly gold eyes.

Remus stands about a head taller than Delia, watching over his shoulder, he never used to do that. It’s starling to see him so jumpy after knowing him to be the reason other people are jumpy.

“I’m Logan,” Logan says, finally shifting a little, “It’s very good to see you home again.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Delia smiles.

Patton just can’t say that this- woman is his daughter. It can’t be the same person. His Cordy had been a vibrant, wild, cheery little toddler with big blue eyes like Logan’s and blonde hair like Janus’. She had been a gleeful singing monster, she’d called her parents variations of dad, not by first name.

This Delia- this teenager was not his daughter, surly the others knew it too. He wouldn’t kick her out, he would try to love her, but this woman is not the same person his daughter is, they can’t be the same.

Remus growls lowly, and everyone stares at Patton in varying states of shock, Patton realizes weakly and too late he had said that out loud.

How on god’s earth did he manage to say that outloud.

“Kiddo I-”

“It’s okay,” Delia says, though the way her tone is falsely happy really dosen’t assure Patton, she stares him down, charming on the outside but her gaze is as cold as he’s ever seen, “I didn’t recognize you as my father either.”

Even if Patton doesn't feel a parental pull towards Delia, the words still hurt.

“Patton,” Logan says sternly, “You owe Delia an apology.”

“I’m so sorry kiddo! I didn’t mean to say that I just- It’s so much and- goodness, you must be overwhelmed too.”

Delai looks at PAtton, then “It’s fine, Patton.”

The others must have done interactions while he zoned out.

“Patt,” Logan gentles, “I know it’s hard, and you’re entitled to being upset but this is a scared child, she needs adults.”

Patton misses the way Delia bristles at the words, but Janus sees the way she does, the settles serenely.

“Patt,” Virgil sighs, “I get that, okay? But you need to do better.”

“Delia,” Remus says finally, “Let’s go shower, I know you’re tired.”

“But,” Logan protests, “We just-

“Good night, I’ll talk to you later.” Remus says firmly, placing food down for them before stalking out, Delia at his side.

Nico and Thomas sigh, sharing a look.

Delia and Remus shower in relative silence then Remus asks finally, “So, what do you think?”

Delia shrugs, “The boys are cute, they seem like good kids.”

“Yeah.”

“Logan and Patton seem- pretentious and I don’t like them at all.” Delia says after a moment, knowing Remus will always be there, he’s proven it time and time again, “I can’t believe Patton was rude enough to say that. I mean- I know I’m not what they wanted.”

“That’s not true, they just wanted you, you’re you!”

“They wanted me when I was three, which fine, I don’t mind that. But then Logan backs Patton up?!”

“Oh little trash baby,” Remus coles gently, “It’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Good. Now, little mistake, get some sleep.”

“Go talk to them,” Delia says.

“What?”

She sighs then, “I know you missed them, go talk to them, they’re your family.”

“But-”

“You’ll be next door. I can protect myself for a few hours, even if I hate them, I want you to be happy. Go on.”

“I’ll check on you every half hour.”

“I know.”

Remus sighs, moving to his niece and ruffling her hair, “We’ll be alright kid.”

“Good night, cephy.”

“Good night, kitty.”

Remus slips out of the hotel room, and Delia is left alone to reflect. An awful decision, really.

She stares ta the ceiling, and her mind wanders over her day, focusing on the set of boys that supposedly are her brothers.

Her uncle always told her that most people are useless and should be used for her own gain, to keep her ahead of the game.

But he also said she should never ever use children, or those she cares for.

Remus also told her that there are good people, and she should protect them, not use or harm them.

Her brothers, she thinks they're adorable, she'd like to try to be there for them at least, like only Remus was for her. Those three boys deserve better than Logan and God forbid Patton.

Delia hums letting her eyes slip closed, letting the silence soothe her troubled mind.

---

Remus sits himself by his parents, glare leveled on Patton, "How dare you, how fuxking- I'll rip your fucking tounge-"

"Remus!" Virgil hisses looking completely scandalized.

"Screw off," Remus snaps, "You heard what he said to my sweet little trash baby!"

Everyone pauses at the endearment, a weird and very Remus sentiment.

"We're not saying he's right," Roman sighs.

"You weren't saying he was wrong!" Remus snaps.

"Remus," Thomas soothes gently, "we are all very glad to see you and Delia safe and alive. But it was a shock for us, imagine being her parent-"

"I am!" Remus snaps, "I raised her as best I could! I am he dad, even if she calls me uncle or cephy, I bandaged her wounds, I tied her tourniquet, hell I preformed half of her abortions!"

He freezes, realizing the others are quiet.

"Abortions?" Janus asks.

Remus scoffs, "Nothing. If you ask her i will destroy you."

"Remus, I-" Patton winces then, "I didn't-"

"You're not her father, you were right, Delia isn't your daughter." Remus sneers, a growl rumbling from his chest.

"Remus," Nico soothes, "Please."

Remus scoffs, "You don't know what this pike bag did to Delia. I ought to-"

"Remus," Roman says gently, "Patton was out of line, but please, can't we just have a calmer conversation? For the boys? They're next door with Logan, just please don't wake them."

Remus scoffs, but he resigns to crossing his arms and glaring at Patton.

Just like old times.

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @fanficloverinthesun

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #ssb writes #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic! remus #remus sanders #SSB writes #Delia Danders #angst #Delia and family corp #Prince (Thomas sanders shorts)#Brain (Thomas Sanders shorts)#Heart (Thomas Sanders shorts)#original character #character!thomas #Character! Nico

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bella-in-a-bag · 4 years

Text

Not mine

Ao3

Masterpost

- Next

Words: 2446

Day 5 - Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience

Maybe that was worse, because he was just broken and no one was to blame, just himself. Maybe he had repressed his feelings to the limit and they were retaliating, unlike, but he wasn't human after all. Maybe he deserves this and there is no reason, it just is and he has to accept that.

Where Logan gets someone elses feelings.

Tags and triggers under cut

Hurt/Comfort, Unsympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, more or less, he's just mean and never actually in the story, just mentioned, it's implied that he's just stressed, mention of violence, Swearing, Remus doesn't get gross, , tw panic attacks implied

Logan didn't know how his chest had suddenly gotten so tight, his eyes watery and his gut twisted in a way that made him want to throw up. Feeling such an intense array of emotions left him unable to think, let alone reason his way out of something he didn't know the cause for. Just a minute ago, he was fixing Thomas's schedule to include his meeting with Joan, an action that he deemed deeply satisfactory, when a wave crashed into his train of thought. Anger for something he didn't know the motive but knew was wrong, as well as many other things he could only identify as a mixture of pride, guilt, grief and sadness.

Well, no use in trying to get something done now.

Logan was used to these impulses, as he liked to call them, but every time he suffered them he felt like the world was figuratively trying to crush him into a pile of dust, so maybe the appropriate term should be awareness of the situation. He didn't freak out when they happened, which was good, but the unpleasantness still stuck all the way through the episodes. Surprising no one, he hated them more than he hated Thomas pursuing theater and YouTube instead of a stable career, but unlike the latter, these problems only affected him. Maybe that was worse, because he was just broken and no one was to blame, just himself. Maybe he had repressed his feelings to the limit and they were retaliating, unlike, but he wasn't human after all. Maybe he deserves this and there is no reason, it just is and he has to accept that.

Logan realized that if Janus heard that he was going to get lectured, but he didn't really mind, not when his brain was spiraling back and forth between a decision he wasn't sure he was making himself. The pros and cons, the possible outcomes, the whole problem laid out to him in a way he could only watch someone from afar look at a map he couldn't see. It reminded him of the courtroom scenario, but at the same time the problem felt more trivial and more important. The stakes were high, he guessed while trying to assume the best decision based on the pieces he could get, but then a choice was made and anxiety filled his mind to the brim.

He almost didn't answer when he heard a knock on the door, too many things happening at once, but he pushed himself up his chair and answered with the loudest voice he could manage. "Who is it?" It still sounded too emotionally charged, or maybe it didn't and his ears were playing tricks on him. "Can I come in?" Still no answer to his question, but if he ignored them maybe they would go away. The three seconds he stood in the middle of his room waiting for an answer felt like an eternity, but to his dismay, that someone finally decided to reveal their identity.

"I'm Remus, Logan" he sounded far too broken for the Duke, and Logan deduced that wasn't good. "Can I come in?" The desperation in the voice pushed Logan to open the door and let him in, trying to look collected.

"How may I assist you?" He wanted to add that he couldn't even assist himself, but the thought remained in his head.

"I need you to coach me through Virgil's breathing exercises" it still felt wrong the way his voice broke when he said Virgil and why would he need them in the first place? Remus was becoming a decent distraction from his own problems, he realized as he tried to make sense of the situation. Logan gestured at the foot of his bed before beginning to speak.

"Ok, I want you to breathe in for four, hold for seven and exhale for eight" Remus simply nodded and Logan began the exercise, counting with his fingers when he saw the creative side struggling to follow his instructions. After 15 minutes and 23 seconds, Remus seemed to look more like himself and Logan stopped counting, finding comfort in the way his mind had started to function as well. Remus was looking at the ground while biting his nail and it didn't look like he was going to speak any time soon, but Logan needed to know what happened in order to help Remus. He might be also teeny tiny bit interested, but that is besides the point.

"If you are not comfortable you do not have to answer" Remus's finger was out of his mouth, good. "But may I ask what is bothering you, you seemed troubled. And by previous experiences, I assume you do not get easily troubled." Remus snorted, Logan wasn't sure why but that is a problem for another day.

"I might have fought with good ol' Virgin again, which might not have ended so good ol' ok" That usually didn't end up well, Logan remembered trying to comfort Virgil with Patton making cookies and Roman swearing revenge on the background.

"If you were in his room that would explain your distress"

"We were on common territory, so my bullshit comes exclusively from me."

"I wouldn't consider your stress fake, but did anything he said upset you into this state or was it the whole situation in general."

"Well, there were some things said." He paused for a moment, looking down weighting if it was worth it or not. Logan was beginning to think he would just get up and leave when he resumed talking, startling him just enough to make him flinch but improbable that the other side had noticed.

"I had this extremely good idea, you see. It was good, so good I was going to show it to Thomas. Not an intrusive thought, you don't need to worry legged dictionary, but an actual real plot for an episode." Logan nodded along, listening carefully to the side's words. "I made the mistake of telling Virgil, cause he was the only one around and I needed to tell somebody. He's still pissed that jay-nus got sort of accepted, hypocrite coming from him," Logan bit the urge to correct him, shifting a bit on the spot." so he didn't take well the idea of me making something useful. Or he was afraid that I wasn't going to make anything and kill Thomathy on the spot, but hey, same difference. He also called me something a bit ugly." Remus's voice shifted into Virgil's like second nature, which would make sense given Janus's history. "Yeah, well maybe you are better off trapped in the subconscious, no one wants you around anyway. I'm sure your brother won't miss you."

This time Remus didn't continue speaking and Logan understood that he wasn't getting more info right now.

"I am sorry Remus, Virgil has been a little over the edge lately with Janus up in the primary mindscape." Bad wording Logic, now he looks more sad. "I am in no way trying to excuse his actions, perhaps I could talk to him later. Make him see the error in his thinking, possibly getting him to apologize."

"Thanks Logan." Satisfactory, he isn't even using a nickname.

"If I’m not intruding too much, why didn't you go to Janus for help?"

"Intruding is my thing logical meat bag" That one's creative "but he's busy and you seemed good at comforting V-movie, so I guessed you could comfort me too. Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, I sound like Roman."

"I guess you do not want anything to do with chainsaws, but I appreciate that you would come to me for help. I am not in any way qualified in dealing with emotions, but I am suitable for providing physical help, techniques do not depend in whether you are very sad or mad at someone eating your last crofter jar." Remus smiled, which was good.

"Well that was fun." Remus stretched and half laid on the bed, his legs dangling on the edge. "But you seemed pretty out of it Wikipedia, when I came in" So much for looking collected, then.

"I was not doing well, but I am fine now"

"You can't just not tell me what bothered you, I need to know what to hit." That was nice, in its own way.

"I am afraid you cannot hit my problems, Remus"

"If you don't tell me I'll have to disagree, Logan”

"Well, why would I lie to you if it doesn't benefit me?" A short idea dashed through Logan's head, and he followed it. "Remus"

"Janus lies without reason, Logan"

"I am sure he has his reasons, Remus"

"You don't know that, Logan"

"You don't know that either, Remus"

"Logan?"

"Remus?"

"You're good at avoiding issues, glasses." Maybe Logan laughed a bit, not that he would admit it.

"I like you, but if you don't tell me I won't leave your room till eternity." Logan did not appreciate the idea of Remus in his room for an eternity, whatever that meant given that Thomas, and per se his sides, won't live an eternity.

"It is difficult to explain, but let's just say that nothing caused my distress." Remus launched himself forward to sit down properly, one of his hands playing with his mustache.

"I belive I am feeling and experiencing things that haven't happened to me. I am unsure of the cause but I know for certain that it is not an emotional response to something that happened to my person."

"Do you know when it started?" Serious Remus voice, that is definitely scary.

"I do not remember"

"So you had a crisis but you didn't know why it happened."

"Yes and I did not tell you anything about a crisis, how do you- nmg" A hand pressed his lips together, making him unable to speak.

"I think I figured out and I am not smarter than you, probably." The hands off now, that's good.

"Well then, what is it?"

"I do not know how this happens, but I know why it does. Still no clue?"

"No, I am afraid I do not know. Emotions are not my expertise."

"I don't think this has anything to do with emotions. Ok, I'm going to give you the data and see if you can complete the puzzle, live up to your title Sherlock." That nickname made Logic all warm inside, not because he was being called Sherlock but because Remus meant it as a compliment and not an insult.

"You were feeling bad emotions but they weren't yours. I was feeling bad emotions. At the same time." Logan could almost physically feel the click his brain made while connected the dots, every time he had seen Remus sad or angry after he had had an episode, but as they have also happened without seeing him, there was no need to make a connection before. But it was obvious, of course it was. Obvious as it was, it still left option for a lot of questions, like for example, why?

“Ah, well.” Logan had to stop talking, the realization dawning on him. If this is what Remus was feeling, maybe that wasn’t so good. Because he knew what he had gone through, and if he had a reason, it had probably been worse. “Well, that is a lot to take in. Remus, you have gone through a lot.” A pause for air, so he wouldn’t drown in all the weird feelings he was having now. It was probably Remus, or him, or both. “You don’t need to deal with this alone anymore.”

“I wouldn’t want to drag you more into hell with me.” Sadness, and this time Logan knew it wasn’t his, even if Remus’s smile tried to convince him otherwise.

“You are not dragging me anywhere, because we are sitting on my bed and you did not choose your feelings to go to me.” Another beat of silence, this time less dense.

“I think it happens both ways.”

“Oh. That would make sense.” Logan did not want to think of what that implied, had the other side felt the anger he couldn’t control when it escaped its grasp and flooded his senses, or was he safe. No, he probably knows now, think clearly Logic.

“Don't worry dicktective, I’m not going to judge you. I don’t do that, not even kink shaming! Unless that is your kink, then maybe I’d make an exception for you.” Logan figured he tried to sound suggestive, but in all honesty he just sounded tired. He was tired too, so tired he could jawn. So he did, at the same time as Remus. Remus smiled afterwards, less maniacal, more soft. Logan smiled back.

“We are soulmates, Logan.” The logical side was taken aback. He barely knew Remus and he was sure that soulmates meant a declaration of love so good it was as if it was chosen by the universe.

“No?” Yes, appropriate response Logan, five stars would recommend.

“I mean, that’s the drill right?. We share emotions, we share a soul. Isn’t that soulmate 101.”

“Soulmates aren’t real, those are just fairy tales.”

“Maybe Thomas wanted them to be real, so he made them real in his messed up mind.”

“That, that actually makes sense.”

“Look, it’s even making me intelligent. I should hang around your room more often.” An offer perhaps, to see where this goes. Logan is very dense right now, but he nods unsure of everything.

“Why me? I’m the least emotional side.”

“That might be what you think, but you don’t know everything.”

“It’s terrifying.”

“Not knowing or soulmates?”

“Both.”

“I figured. I am pretty scary.” A feeling of discomfort, but this time is his own.

“Not you, emotions. I would react the same way if it was any other side. Maybe not Patton, as he insists on calling me his kiddo and that would be uncomfortable.”

“I’m morally depraved and it would still feel weird.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.” Silence, this time they are just lost in thought. A minute passes, maybe ten. Logan isn’t keeping track of time. It doesn’t matter anymore, not when his world just tilted a bit to the side.

“Logan?”

“Remus?”

“How the fuck are we going to tell the others?”

“We'll figure it out, let's worry about ourselves now.”

"Thanks Lolo."

"You're welcome Remus."

He wasn’t really sure of anything. But with Remus by his side, sounding so confident and yet so scared, maybe things would turn out ok. He was greeted with happiness, a feeling that wasn’t his but still belonged, somehow. And somehow, he knew Remus was receiving happiness as well.

@tsshipmonth2020

#logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical #virgil sanders #sanders sides #soulmate september #bella's soulmate september #tsshipmonth2020 #bella writes

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let-me-be-a-fander-in-peace · 3 years

Text

Outsider.

———————————

My versions of demons are technically not Christian demons, but it’s a bit more complex than that, so VERY information about the demon race at the end of the fic. Here is the prompt I used.

————————————

Relationships: Virgil & Thomas, Remus & Janus & Virgil.

Word count: 3,100.

Description: it was bound to happen eventually, doesn’t mean that Virgil, a human, is happy about being put in a school for demons.

Tw: Joking about skinning someone alive and comparing their organs, and joking about hostages. (Yes, Remus is mostly the one joking about it)

————————————

Of course, Virgil thinks, only my parents could mange to make this big of a mistake.

Standing in the hall you enter once you walk through the frount door of the school. Virgil sees all of the baige lockers lined up, most of the few gaps in between the lockers against the wall are wood doors that enter into classrooms.

Virgil sees students walking down the hall, talking with friends or walking alone. There also students standing by the lockers grabbing thing they need for there first class or putting their supplies away. There are also groups of people just standing by the lockers taking with each other. this would normally not surprise, except for one key detail;

They were all demons.

Everyone had horns and some color from the rainbow skin tone mixed with unique features every demon have, like wings, tails, multiple eyes, plants growing in select areas, and more.

Virgil felt anxiety pounding in his gut as he walked to the councilors office. He could feel eyes burning his skin and he can see the double takes some of demons are doing.

Virgil stops in frount of a door and pulls out his crinkled postet note with the councilers door number on it from his pocket. He glances down at his postet note to confirm that he is at the right door. yep, Virgil thinks, this is the right door, and he hesitantly walks in.

Virgil enters the Councilers office and walks towards the accountant, He glances down at the name tag, Mrs Qucei to ask for his schedule.

“..Hello? Um, I’m Virgil Angst and I’m here for my schedule?”

Mrs. Qucei without looking up from typing on her computer says “Go to the door behind you to enter Mr. Sanders Office for you schedule.”

Virgil stands in that place for a second before quickly turning around and speed walking to the door behind him and knocking.

“Oh? Come in!”

Virgil hesitantly turns the door handle and pushes the door open, just enough for his body to fit through.

When Virgil closes the door he looks a around the room. The room has beige walls and dark wood flooring, on the left wall there is a giant picture frame with a bunch of mini lgbtq+ flags with the corresponding meaning for each flag.

In the left hand counter there is a bedside table with small figet toys on it and a lamp. There is a bin under the table with more figet toys, and next to the bedside table there are different types of chairs, there is a beanbag, a spiny chair, a stool, and a two person couch.

Across in the back right corner facing the right there is a wooden desk and a big computer screen in the middle of the desk. The desk seems to be kinda messy, there is a messy stack of papers on the side and a buch of pens and pencils littered the desk, when they look like they should be in the cups with pens and pencils, (some with animal erasers and fluff balls on the top).

But typing on the computer in your typical office chair there is a demon, he looks to be an short demon, (so around six foot four) and his skin is a warm gray. This horns go up and then swoop down, kind of like a crooked upside down L. He has a slim-ish nose and small lips. His eyes have no whites in them (most demons don’t) and his eyes are a dark brown. His hands have webbing in between them, and he has sharp and long nails. he is wearing a warm brown leather jacket and a dark blue top, he’s wearing jeans and brown loafers.

He looks up from where he was sitting and smiles at Virgil, ushering over to the many chairs. Virgil drops his backpack right against to the tall stool so it’s leaning against it, and Virgil sits on the tall stool where he can hang is legs off. Virgil pulls on this sleeves and bunches the extra fabric that goes past his hands into his sleeve covers hands, and he keeps doing that to have something to do with his hands.

Mr. Sanders smiles at him before talking, “Hi, I’m Mr. Sanders he/him, what’s your name and pronouns?”

Virgil figures that Mr. Sanders already knows his name, seeing as he is the new human student, but goes along with it anyways, “Um, Hi? I’m Virgil Angst.. uh- he/him.”

Virgil mentally cringes at how he spoke, why did I have to be so bad at social interaction.

Luckily for Virgil, Mr. Sanders didn’t seem to mind, and keeps talking, “obviously your the new student, I have your schedule right... here!”

As Mr. Sanders shuffled around his desk for Virgils schedule, he let out a small ‘ah ha!” As he found it. He quickly stood up and walks over to Virgil, handing him his schedule. Then goes back to sit at his desk.

Virgil looks at the schedule handed to him, it has his locker number and combination, and it has his six classes in this order: Biology, Algebra, World history, English, Lunch, German, P.E.

Virgil looked back up at Mr. Sanders. There was still one question in his mind, why was he, a human, doing in a demon school?

As if Mr Sanders could read his mind, he starts the talking, “Now I’m pretty sure your woundering why you’re in a school full of demons, and I would be wondering the same thing if I were you. The reason for this is that the school was informed of your parents, er, work schedule,”— I know that parents keep getting relocated and moving for the new job—“and sense this is the easiest place for your parents, we let you enroll!”

Oh. Oh...

my parents were to lazy to get me into a human school...

...So they signed me up for a school for demons.

...Eh, it was going to happen eventually, I guess.

“Now that I’ve given you your schedule go to your first class! You don’t want to be late!”

Virgil pushes himself off of the tall stool and swings his backpack over his sholder before saying goodbye to Mr. Sanders and walking out of the Room.

Virgil entered the hallway and looked at all of the locker numbers and counts until he hid his own locker.

A-124.

A-125.

A-126.

A-127 .

And... A-128!

My locker.

Virgil looked at his looker and back at this schedule a few more times confirm that he was actually at the right locker. Once he wasn’t so anxious that this wasn’t the right locker the looks at the locker combination and puts his hand on the lock to try.

17.

Virgil put it to number 17.

45.

Virgil twisted the lock in the other direction to get to 45.

31.

Virgil twisted the lock in the opposite direction all the way around before putting it on 31.

Finally Virgil pushed up the black peace that opens the locker, and the locker opened with a small squeek.

Virgil suddenly felt a wave of relieve that he hadn’t been assigned the wrong locker, and then he put this backpack in his locker and took out his binder and a book Virgil is currently reading. Then Virgil took a picture of his schedule and set it to his background screen. Then was on his way to biology class.

As Virgil walks down the hall he saw a bunch a demons looking at him. He understands why they’re looking at him, doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Virgil steps infrount of a open door and checks his phone to see if this was the right class.

He checks his phone and thinks, yep, this is the right class.

Virgil walks through the door and sees a seating chart being protected on those roll up white screens. Virgil looks around at the seating chart before in the corner of his eye he catches his name. Virgil’s name is in a box that represents the back corner table, with two other people, A Remus Creatività and A Janus Dolus.

Virgil walks over to where his name corresponds to and sits down, putting his binder and book in the table corner. Virgil grabs his book and opens it up to his paper bookmark. Pulls the bookmark out and sets it to the side, and continues reading where he left off.

Not even a page in, Virgil feels his book get suddenly ripped out of his hands. He looks up at the bitch who ripped his book out of his hands, and see’s a tall demon around six foot nine with light green skin, he has a pointy nose, and big eyes with a white eye color, around his eyes there is purple eyeshadow, and (really good) winged eyeliner. He also shaved his eyebrow ends. He has a crazed smile with a lot of sharp teeth. He has a dark green curly muttet with a buch of small white streaks in his hair and one prominent white streak in the frount. In his hair there are dark green horns that fade into black at the top, the horns zigzag to the back of his head.

He has two pairs of tentacles, they’re a dark brown, lighter on the bottom where the suckers are. and crossed like you would cross your arms if you didn’t have bones.

He is wearing a black T-shirt with the red anarchy symbol, and a bunch of Bracelets on his wrist, some are your average homemade friendship bracelet, some are rubber bands with stuff on them, and there are also hair ties and those animal shaped rubber bands. He’s wearing gray ripped shorts and purple tights with a bunch of holes in them. And finally he’s wereing doc Martins with purple lace.

I think that’s lace code Virgil thinks, err... if that is lace code, which I think it is, purple means gay pride... I think.

Virgil is snapped out of his head by the demon talking,“Oooo! What’s this!”

The boy exclaims, closing the book with a finger in the book to hold the placement, and reads the summary on the back.

Then another demon, around six foot three, walks up to the other demon and pulls Virgils book out of his hands. This demon has a golden skin tone and a long nose. His face is half regular and half snake. On his regular side he has dark brown eyes, just like most demons, you can’t see the white in his eyes. On his snake side there are yellow-green scales, the scales start right next to his nose and go to his ear. His lips look totally normal except for that where the human lips end on this snake half there is a snake mouth, (stretchy skin that Virgil can’t see connects his snake mouth together), and it extends to his ear. his eye on his name half is fully yellow and he has a split pupil. under his name eye is what looks to be a giant pink eye bag.

His clothing is very causal, his black hair is slicked back and in a black Beene, so Virgil can’t see his horns.He is wearing a black long sleeve shirt with thin yellow strips on the sleeves, he has three pairs of arms, (so six arms total) that all have the same sleeve pattern. He has black fingerless gloves, his nails are painted white with a glossy topcoat, and you can see scales on some of his fingers. he is in black leather pants with a brown belt. His shoes are black high tops with white accents.

“Remus, Why are you harassing the new student?”

The tall demon, who’s name is apparently Remus, pouts, “Jannyyyyyy—“ Remus gets a death glare from... Janny? “Janusss! I wasn’t harassing him! He’s at our table and I want to know if he’s juicy or not!”

“You could do that without harassing him.”

“But that’s no fun!”

The short demon, Janus? glares at Remus, crossing his multiple arms, he still has Virgils book in his hand.

“...Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He sighs giving in to Janus’ stare.

Virgil feel kinda awkward, and interrupts, “Uh, hi, this is fun and all, but can I have my book back.”

They both turn to him. they look at each other and back back at Virgil, “Sweet Satain, I forgot you were even here.” Remus bluntly responds.

“Ah, I’m terribly sorry, here is you book back.” Janus says and he hands Virgils book back to him. Virgil hesitatly takes his book back, and puts his book mark on the last page he was at before shutting his book.

“So! Your the new kid! And your human, of course I was curious!” Remus exclaims, “So, how did you get into this school? Last time I checked humans went to that other school a town over, so what are you doing here?”

During that speech Remus went to sit across from Virgil, and Janus went to sit next to Remus. Remus is leaning over the table with his fists against the table looking at Virgil with wide eye curiously.

“Ummm..”

I really dont what to say to to demons, who are basically strangers, that my parents where so busy that they convinced the leaders to let me go to school here because I can comfortably walk here.

Suddenly the teacher starts calling for everyone’s attention, signaling that class has started.

Virgil silently sighs in relief. Saved by the teacher.

Class is pretty boring, seeing as it’s the first day of school and all classes are just going over rules and stuff like that.

Virgil is reading the class syllabus when suddenly a paper is sild over to Virgil. Virgil looks up from the class syllabus to see Remus wink at him, so Virgil hesitately unfolds the paper and reads their writing in it.

Did you know that skin is the largest organ?

Virgil feels confused, why is Remus asking if I know if skin is the largest organ?

...no, I didn’t.

Virgil slides the paper back to Remus, he writes something down and slides it back.

Well it is! If you skinned someone alive and separated all of there organs, all of their skin clumped together would be bigger than all of the other organs, even the big intestine!

Virgil writes something down and slides it back to Remus, Why is them being alive while you skin then important?

Before Remus could write something down Janus slides the paper to himself and looks between Remus and Virgil with a ‘seriously?’ Expression. Remus quickly nods and Virgil hides his face in his hoodie out of embarrassment.

Janus writes something and slides it over to Remus, who writes something down and slides it to Virgil.

Virgil unfolds the paper and reads it.

Why must you always have the most gruesome conversation starters. Is written in nice cursive with a black pen.

After that is, Because you always gotta start out conversations with your true self!

Next to that Virgil writes, So,,, your true self is skinning a person alive to compare there organs?

Yes! Inside my soul is skinning someone alive and comparing their organs. There is a picture of a ghost, inside the ghost there is one stick figure with exed out eyes and with red pen scribbled all over the stick figures torso. Next to the stick figure is another stick figure nellinf next to it with a knife and the end of what is supposed to be the arm.

I can attest to that, is written next to it.

Now we know what is inside Remus’ (that’s your name right?) soul, what’s inside your soul?

The paper was eventually sild back into Virgils area and he read what was new in it.

Yes! My name is Remus, you also spelled it correctly, an what is inside your soul, Janus?

Below that Janus had written, ...Hmmm, inside my soul is a very rich fancy old lady who killed her husband for his money, and she is covered in jewelry drinking wine in a finch wine glass. what about you, Virgil. (if that is your name.)

The paper slides to Virgil, he reads the paper and thinks for a second, before writeing something down. Yes, Virgil is my name, In my soul there is a 2000’s emo kid writing decent poetry about how ‘no one understands me’ while blasting The Black Parade.

Virgil sides the paper over to Janus, who does one of those nose laughs where instead of making noise you choppily exhail. He writes and slides the paper over to Remus, who slides the paper back to Virgil.

You couldn’t come up with anything more creative than The black Parade?

Yeah! Is written in his chicken scratch handwriting, what about the screams of hostages?

Virgil rolls his eyes and slides the paper back. You couldn’t come up with anything more creative with just ‘the screaming of hostages’?

The paper is slid back to Virgil, oh-ho! Do not test me! I don’t want to scare you, too much, you feel me?

You say that as your convertation started was about organs. Is written in Janus’ fancy handwritten

Yeah, why did you try to start a conversation with that?

The paper is slid back to Virgil, and Remus has a weirdly smug face on as Virgil opens the folded paper. because only juicy people actually respond to that! Congrats Virgil! You passed the juicy test!

With his micanical pencil Virgil writes, I don’t know if I should be relived or scared that I passed the ‘juicy test’, and slides it over to Remus and Janus’ side of the table.

The paper slides back to Virgil. I’ll leave that up to you! But just know now that you have passed the test you are our friend. You cant escape. Below that in Janus’ black pen is, good luck.

Just as Virgil finishes reading Remus’ and Janus’ nots the bell goes off, making Virgil jump in his seat.

The bell is so loud, he thinks while packing up. Once he has all of his stuff ready to go he gets up to leave class when he hears Remus yell, “SEE YOU LATER!” And Virgil waves back at him.

Virgil walks out of the classroom and looks at his phone to see what his next class is, it turns out his next class is algebra.

———————————

Heyyy everyone... I have so many other things planned out, but I saw this prompt and all of my modivation for all my other wips left my body... so have this!

There is going to be more than one part! it should be out soon, now information on the demon race!

——————————-

I do not mean to disrespect Christians! This universe’s version of christainly is just that, a fantasy version that represents the worst version of Christianity. so please don’t come for me.

The demon race and the Human race met in the 500’s, the reason I say demons are technically not the Christian demons is because they were labeled as the devils followers, they were said to be devils from hell. That is where the image of Satan was created. There where lots of hate agents demons back in the old days. but demon and Humans have been collaborating for so long that most of the hate and suspicion for demons has died out with time.

In this universe Demons are taller and stronger than humans, but there senses are dulled down compared to humans, (which was why the bell was louder to Virgil.) Demons where also considered to be Dumber than humans (there not), because they were hunters and gathers, and they spoke a different language. So in this universe that was how the image of the devil was created. in the modern day (when this story takes place) most Christians consider the big, red, horned version of Satan bullshit, (especially demon followers) but it kinda rude to call demon’s devil’s.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #deciet sanders #character thomas #ts fanfic #my writing #tw gore mention #this was supposed to be a one shot #but oh well.#ts remus #ts deceit #ts virgil

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intruality-overlord · 4 years

Text

Why Are We (Best) Friends?

Warnings: excessive swearing, alcoholism, mentions of drugs, drug use, suggestive humor, implied sexual content (no smut), some gore descriptions. Generally, Remus stuff.

Taglist: @blogging-time @veraisnotfine @littlestr @jessibbb @broken-pens @hi-its-tutty @idkanameatall @moxiety--sanders101 @theyluna-womoon

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! Updates every Wednesday/Thursday. Get ready for fighting...

Chapter Five: Fuck You

The Present.

“How much do you remember?” Remus nagged the next morning as Patton bustled around his room getting dressed.

“I wasn’t black out drunk!” Patton retaliated, “I remember everything.” Patton wasn’t, and he’ll say it again, not a lightweight. No. Not that the thought offended him in any way shape or form. “I mean, it’s fuzzy, but still,” he mumbled into his shirt as he pulled it off over his head.

“So… Logan knows and now probably the others…” Remus clutched the rumpled bed sheets, his eyes stretched wide to accommodate all his stress. Waiting for the floorboards to open their jaws and swallow him, chew and spit him out again, he stared at it expectantly. He’d rather bleed to death from splintery teeth than deal with this right now, and he wouldn’t have to if he resembled mashed potatoes. This fucking stress. This guilt.

“I’m over thirty years old! It’s normal, having a drink with a friend!” Patton dismissed with a wave of his hand, swatting Remus’s very real, very valid concerns away. Not entirely unusual. That is, if they were talking about something as trivial as why Mother Nature created hyenas the way she did. Poor things, childbirth was already messy enough.

“They shouldn’t be so shocked. Now where’s my—” Patton whisked around the room looking for a change of clothes, and Jesus, he needed to clean his room. He found his one clean polo wedged behind his wardrobe. Remus thought he was entirely too concerned about clothes when everything had been fundamentally fucked up yesterday. Clothes were overrated, anyway.

“Why did you…?” Remus couldn’t help but ask. Trying to make sense of things was a new hobby of his. He was still an amateur. Patton pulled his fresh polo on, and Remus tried to ask again hoping he’d succeed with one less distraction.

“Why did you admit we’re friends to Logan?”

Patton just looked at him like he was crazy. Crazier than he thought. “Because we are? I had just been talking about how I need to stop pretending we're not friends. Do you really think I’d go back on my word so quickly?” He said incredulously. “Hey, I think I left my hoodie under the bed again. Could you pass it?”

Remus did retrieve the garment from beneath the bed, checking there were no cobwebs or spiders on it. Then he held it, frozen. Remus rivalled Virgil when it came to thinking of worst case scenarios, only Remus wasn’t normally scared by them. Now… Remus knew he’d someday ruin everything for Patton. Ruin it like he ruins everything. That’s what happens when you’re the embodiment of bad ideas. It’s not fun anymore when he’s ruining something, someone, he actually cares about.

He just wanted Patton to be happy…

Hands rested on his shoulders, comforting and solid. “Look at me,” Patton hushed. Remus did.

Since when did his eyes twinkle like that?

“I don’t regret it, Remus,” Patton said sternly. “I can’t afford to spend every sober moment regretting everything.” Patton smiled. “I want good memories, however few.” His eyes crinkled in that simple, rare way you’d hope to see well worn into his skin one day. That private smile was for Remus.

Patton gently took the hoodie and wrapped it around his shoulders like a cape. “I’m gonna need some tequila for this.”

Oh god.

(}ï{)

Now how was Patton supposed to break the news? He chickened out at breakfast, and he chickened out at lunch, now it was dinner. There was chicken on the table and no room for more than one. God, it felt like coming out of the closet all over again. Think, what would Remus do?

“I’m not a virgin,” Patton blurted.

Oh yes, very subtle.

Cutlery clattered and clanged combined with collective choked coughing.

That didn’t quite come across how he had wanted it to. Perhaps Patton was drunker than he thought and he didn’t need that extra liquid courage right before dinner after all. He had been aiming for tipsy, like usual, when he had taken a few shots this morning.

(He didn’t know how to get through a whole day entirely sober anymore. Wake up, get dressed, have a couple shots, brush your teeth, have breakfast— it was routine. When sober, he hardly had the energy to maintain his act, but when tipsy, he was just delirious enough for his insanity to come across as jovial joy.

Yes, that did mean Patton was living with a constant hangover.

And no, he could not find the strength to care.)

Perhaps he had overshot it with his nerves making him lose count.

All well, it served the same purpose.

Last time, anyway, Patton had just blurted that he thought guys were attractive, and it turned out fine. (Which went something along the lines of:

“Boys are hot.”

“Duh.”

“They are indeed glorious creatures.”

“I can confirm that that is a factual statement.”)

Why should it work any different this time?

Wait, why is no one saying anything?

Patton looked around at his fellow sides, and they all looked like they saw a creepy crawly death dealer sitting comfortably on his head.

“Did you hear me?”

As their brains caught up, Virgil and Roman both spluttered, “What?!” There was another brief silence before the information caught up to Logan, and he too followed with a small, “What?”

Bewildered, Virgil and Roman’s heads snapped around at Logan. “You mean— you didn’t…?”

“No,” Logan said, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought I dreamt what I saw yesterday,” Logan eventually said. All of the colour was drained from him. “Yeah, I know, so surprising how articulate I can be when I’m drunk,” Patton half joked defensively.

“Do you know what virgin even means, Patton?” Roman asked slowly, hoping this was one of Patton’s hilarious misunderstandings. Patton sighed. “It means someone who hasn’t had sex before. And I have. So I’m not,” he said, beginning to curl in on himself. He felt trapped like an insect enveloped in a water droplet, not strong enough to break the surface tension.

“With you always expecting me to be honest I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so surprised when I actually am,” Patton observed bitterly. Something about the mention of truthfulness struck a nerve in Virgil, resulting in a false epiphany. “Deceit?” Virgil said sceptically. The glare pressing on Patton made him feel like he nearly lost his footing despite not moving an inch.

“Wha— no, I'm not Janus!” Patton said incredulously. “Not that being Janus is a bad thing,” he added under his breath. Patton wouldn’t be offended to be compared to Janus under normal circumstances. However in this situation, he was put off by the negative connotations Virgil was associating with Janus.

“That sounds like something Deceit would say,” Roman mused.

“Oh, you want proof? Fine! Janus!” Patton summoned. A very discombobulated Janus appeared, much to the others’ surprise. “I know exactly what’s going on,” he lied.

“You are Janus, I am Patton, correct?” Patton snapped. “...No?” Janus said, utterly confused. Slightly scared too.

“See?” Patton pleaded. Meanwhile, Janus glanced around at everyone else’s faces screwed up in confusion and some other indecipherable glob of emotions Janus deemed safe to assume as anger. “Jesus, good luck,” he muttered to Patton, and he promptly sank out.

“We just never thought— you always were so pure—”

“Because that’s what was expected from me!” Patton heaved a breath, pushing back his tears. “I committed adultery! There! I said it— and no, I don’t mean adulthood,” he announced. Those words felt like screaming in a claustrophobic space. Stretching, stuffed into a suitcase, and feeling the unforgiving, unrelenting walls. It felt like breathing in the vacuum of space.

“I knew as soon as I broke that perfect, innocent image of me you have, you wouldn’t react well. And guess what? You’re acting exactly like I expected you to!” He screamed. With another sharp, trembly breath, he vented all his frustrations out to people other than Remus for the first time.

He lost it.

“You’ve always treated me like a fucking child even though I’m the oldest. Telling me to shut up and let the adults talk, and this is a grown up conversation, or oh, you wouldn’t get it Patton even. Always sheltering, patronising me as if I’m not over thirty fucking years old,” a lump formed in his throat. “I’m Thomas’s heart. Where do you think his feelings of lust come from?!” Miserable strings of choked back words wound up like a ball of yarn into an incomprehensible howl that tumbled out of Patton.

“When I learnt what repression means, it sounded like something that perhaps wasn’t the best thing for me to keep doing, an-and I thought you’d want me to stop. That you’d be happy for me if I did,” he whimpered.

“W-we did! We are!” Roman quickly jumped in. “It’s just… just not— you… um, listen Padre, uh we,” he faltered. Looking to Logan for guidance, they just found him lost in his head, eyebrows scrunched, grimacing.

“Hold on, if it wasn’t us then it had to have been a dark side,” Virgil finally realised. Roman gasped, and Logan grimaced harder.

“I’m also an alcoholic?” Patton said in an attempt to quickly distract. It distracted them alright, only their reactions were just as bad or worse. It sent them all into a senseless squabble.

“So there was no consent then?” Virgil spoke up, mildly horrified.

What the fuck did he just hear?

Jaw slacked, breath fumbling, all Patton could hear for a moment was his thudding heart before a feeble, “Of course there was,” escaped him. “I can think for myself I-I-I’m not a child I…” And he looked like he'd just been stabbed, they saw. Between his ribs, the knife twisted, locking the blade in and exuding pressure. Because no, they’re not letting his blood spill. Can’t have carpet stains now, can they?

“He must have been manipulating you. Making you valuable with— with drinking and taking advantage of you,” Virgil said, seeming almost concerned for him. “He’s a dark side, he can’t genuinely care about you. It’s the only explanation,” Roman agreed rather bluntly.

His ears must be broken.

Patton’s eyes glistened. “How could you say that?” The watery wimper scraped his throat. “He’s my friend.” Patton wouldn’t let a tear fall; he refused. Only his true friends were allowed to see him that valuable.

“This— this isn’t— please just listen, please! I just wanted to be more honest with you all, an-and I was hoping yo-you’d accept our friendship…” Patton finished lamely.

“He is a dark side, Patton,” they said. “We are your friends,” they said. “We are the ones who really care about you,” they said. Lying was wrong, they had said. Hypocrites.

Mouth helplessly clamped shut, his thoughts ricketed around his skull like a brick in a washing machine. He wouldn’t have had to resort to alcoholism if they hadn’t made him bottle his feelings. Remus would never hurt him, he’s a good friend! Patton has been by his side when Remus was so fucking high, he didn’t even recognise him, and not for one moment did he even consider hurting him in any way! Remus cares. Maybe this whole thing was one big mistake. Patton always belonged with the others, not Virgil. And if Virgil had already made the switch over, then it was his turn. Patton had thought, hey, maybe I’m wrong. They’re my friends; they love me. But he was wrong. Stupid, nieve Patton being wrong, who knew.

Remus wouldn’t treat him like this.

Reverting to his last resort, Patton pleaded, “How can Thomas love himself if he can’t accept himself? If you can’t accept us?”

Completely unmoved, they held up their hands to address him as a scared, dumb animal. Their voice tweaked into a tone used for gently scorning a toddler, “It’s okay, Patton. It’s not your fault he’s manipulated you. We can help. He doesn’t have to use you anymore, we can do this together—”

“F-fuck you. Fuck. You. Bastards.”

As he sunk down, Patton called back one last thing, “By the way, Roman.

I fucked your brother.”

(}ï{)

Why? Why, why, why, why, why— It’s all Logan could think the whole time. It just didn’t compute, no matter how valiantly he tried to understand. Why why why why why?!

Next Chapter:

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thecatprince · 4 years

Text

Luckier Than Most

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Read on AO3

Summary: Patton deals with his depression and grief as he gets ready for the funeral. (First half of the chapter is a memory/past event)

Warnings: Mentions of death and fear of dying, in depth exploration of depression and grief.

Authors Notes: Patton’s depression is based off of my own struggles with depression but everyone is different! I hope you enjoy!

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---

Chapter Six - Before the Funeral

A gentle knock on the door roused Patton from his light sleep. The sun shone bright through the gap in the curtains, and the clock on his bedside table read 11:00 am. A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Hey Patton! Can I come in?”

Patton gave a half-hearted reply, knowing that the caller would come in anyway, just like he always did. Sure enough, the door opened and Virgil walked in. He gave a smile upon seeing Patton, although Patton knew he must look a mess. He had barely gotten out of bed in days, and when he did it was only to sit someplace else. Virgil came over and sat on the bed, looking down at his friend with a gentle smile.

“C’mon, Pat, let’s get out of bed. Your dad made some avocado and bacon toast for you to have, so the only thing you need to do is get out bed. You got this!” Virgil mimed cheerleading, moving his hands with imaginary pompoms on them and whisper-cheering encouraging chants, something he would never do for anyone but Patton. “Let’s go, Patton, let’s go!”

Patton gave a small smile and sat up. Virgil passed him his dressing gown off the floor, and Patton stood up and put it on. It was surprising how much it helped having Virgil there. Normally that task alone took at least an hour. Virgil and Patton made their way down the hall, where the delicious smell of cooked bacon filled their noses. They sat down, and Patton’s dad placed a plate in front of them both.

“You got out of bed in only 10 minutes kiddo! I’m proud of you,” his dad said, a huge smile on his face. He mouthed a thank you to Virgil over Patton’s head. Virgil smiled back, and watched as his friend made his way through breakfast, while eating a slice of toast of his own.

This wasn’t exactly ordinary behaviour for Patton, but it wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary either. Patton had suffered from depression for most of his teenage years, and although there were periods of time where he seemed normal, he was prone to depressive episodes, like the one he was going through now. During those times, generally Logan or Virgil would come over to help, with varying successes. Some days, all it took was a little bit more extra help for Patton to get up and start the day, and other days the most either of them could do was to spend time with Patton next to the bed.

Patton hated his depression. He hated how disgusting he felt when he couldn’t find the energy to shower or get dressed or even brush his teeth. He hated the feeling of emptiness, of numbness, of this dull kind of apathy, that dimmed all the brightness and colour in life. He hated the complete lack of energy, of motivation that accompanied the greyness, and how it always felt like some invisible weight was pressing down on him like a blanket. He also hated the fact that it had taken years to find a type of antidepressant that worked, of having to spend years with no relief, and even with the antidepressants sometimes he still felt the emptiness and numbness of depression, and on those days it made it so much harder.

But with Virgil and Logan by his side, it made things a little easier. Not exactly sunshine and rainbows, but the sharp dullness of depression was eased a little, tasks became just that little bit easier and the days seemed just a little bit brighter. It was never easy, but having his friends beside gave him a small little beacon of hope to hold onto. Maybe it won’t always be this way. Maybe the future will be just a little bit better. Maybe, with his friends and family beside him, he could cope.

Virgil was there for the entirety of that particular day. He and Patton lounged around for most of it, talking about deep things like how shitty depression and anxiety were to deal with, and also trivial fun things like the potential existence of Mothman. They spent some of the day outside, lying on the grass in Patton’s backyard or sitting under the large oak tree, looking at shapes in the clouds or blowing dandelion fluff at each other. Patton always loved spending days with Virgil, just hanging out with him. He was one of Patton’s closest friends, from the moment they met they had clicked, and he remained one of the only friends who Patton had the energy for on days like these. Logan was the other, for the studious nerd had a quiet and calm demeanour that Patton found very soothing and pleasant. As much as he loved Roman, Remus and Janus, they tended to require quite a lot of energy to keep up with them mentally, and the loud nature of the twins made them really difficult to be around on days like this, when calm and quiet were mostly preferred.

“Does the concept of death ever scare you?” Virgil asked as they lay on the grass under the oak tree. He picked the yellow dandelion flower growing next to him and rolled the stem in-between his fingers. Patton sighed as he sat up and started to pick at the grass in front of him.

“Not really? I guess I have kind of accepted that we all die eventually, and it’s difficult, but also a natural part of life. I like to think that none who die ever truly leave us, because they are still in the hearts of the people who loved them, and that comforts me, you know?”

“I’m scared of death,” Virgil said, picking the petals one by one off the dandelion. “I am scared of the finality of it. I don’t really have a clear idea of any kind of afterlife, and so for me, you sort of just die and that’s it. It’s pretty scary to just stop…”

Patton shrugged. “That’s valid,” he said, a typical Patton response to conversations like these. The topic moved on to dogs, as it was prone to in Patton’s presence. The two of them talked about the types of dogs they would love to get when they were older, then what each of their friend’s would be if they were dogs, then they circled back to mental health, another common topic of conversation between the two of them.

“You know, sometimes I feel like giving up. Not killing myself, but just like giving up. Not fighting it, not struggling to get up every day, just lying there and just let it run its course. But I know can’t because the moment I stop fighting, stop doing everything I can to just get out of bed each morning, I don’t think I would be able to get back up again…. But I am so tired of fighting…” Patton kind of trailed off, directing his attention to the grass in front of him. Virgil put a hand on Patton’s arm.

“I know. I feel like sometimes fighting my anxiety is an impossible feat and I just don’t have the energy. But I also know I am not alone, and neither are you. You have me, and L, and Roman, Remus and Janus, and your dads, and your therapist, who will all try and help you however we can. I’m not going anywhere, Patton, ever, and I will continue to be here for you through everything, I promise.”

Patton gave a sad smile, and hugged Virgil. “You got this Pat, just one foot in front of the other,” Virgil said, returning the hug.

“Thanks kiddo,” Patton murmured. He let go of Virgil, and soon the conversation moved on to the latest music artist Virgil was interested in. Patton couldn’t help but wonder how lucky he was to get a friend like Virgil, or any of his friends for that matter. It was comforting to know that Virgil was there for him, and that he would never leave him. No matter what, they were in this together!

Patton awoke to a gentle knock on his door and the voice of his papa telling him to wake up. The sun was streaming through the gap in his curtains, and he felt disgusting and empty. He sat up in his bed and was hit with the daily reminder of the absence of his friend in the form of a black suit hanging in his closet. Patton looked away, not wanting to think about the funeral he was attending later that day.

The weeks leading up to the funeral had been a blur of intense sadness, longing and emptiness. He felt like he had no energy, and he kept fluctuating between grief so deep it felt like his heart was about to burst and an emptiness so vast he felt like he was just a void of nothingness. He would go from staring out the window, not feeling or thinking anything, to crying so much he felt sick in a matter of seconds. Virgil had always been there for him, he had promised he would always be there for him, and even though Patton knew Virgil’s death was an accident, a small part of him felt betrayed and more alone than ever. Logan had come over as much as he could, and although Patton loved his friends company, there was no replacing Virgil, nor would there ever be.

Patton got up out of bed after an hour. The funeral was in about an hour, and even though he felt depression and grief pulling him down like suffocating ropes, he wanted to give as much respect to his friend as best he could. Patton didn’t have the energy to stand in the shower, so he ran himself a bath. He washed as much as he could, trying to make the icky gross feeling that had been caused by weeks of not washing go away. He lay in the bath longer than necessary, letting himself soak in the water, not wanting to get out. He did eventually though, drying himself and draining the tub.

He put a dressing gown on after he was dry, not wanting to get fully dressed, because to get fully dressed was to put on the black suit, and that would mean acknowledging once again that Virgil was dead. Patton went into the kitchen with the intention of eating, but just ended up walking out again, for none of the food seemed appealing and he wasn’t hungry. He went back into the bathroom, brushed his teeth and hair, trying to do everything he could before he faced the inevitable. Eventually, after brushing his hair for the tenth time, he went back into his room, gently took the suit out of his closet and laid it on his bed.

It was weird for Patton to own such a black outfit. Normally he wore bright colours and fun patterns, things that brought a smile to his face. For him, wearing black always made him feel a bit sadder and less like himself.

He reached to start putting the suit on, but he hesitated. To put it on would mean to finally admit Virgil was gone… and that he wasn’t going back. Patton knew logically that Virgil was gone, but part of him thought he could hear Virgil talking to his papa in the kitchen before he came into Patton’s room. Part of him thought he would turn around and see Virgil there, listening to music or laughing or just sitting there. He kept thinking he would look at his phone and see a new meme he had sent or a message from him in his notifications, but every single time the screen was blank and Patton’s heart broke a little more.

Patton took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. A small part of him wished Logan was there, because Logan had been his rock throughout all of this. Almost every day Logan would come over, for as long or as short a time as Patton wished, and every single time he managed to make Patton feel better. It was a different to Virgil’s support, because Virgil’s support was rooted in similar experiences, giving each other advice that they had gotten in therapy and relating to each other’s feelings, because both of them had struggled with mental illness. Logan hadn’t had that same experience. His mental state wasn’t exactly healthy, but it wasn’t the same as a lifetime of dealing with a mental issue like depression or anxiety. Logan’s support felt sturdy and solid, like a rock, acting like a branch to hold onto when you are falling off a cliff. Virgil would just fall with him, giving him comfort as they fell, but not being able to stop the falling. Logan gave him something to hold onto to try and pull himself up. Sometimes he fell anyway, but sometimes Logan’s branch gave him enough strength and hope to start to climb back up.

Logan was his rock, a firm solid structure that Patton could anchor himself on. Nothing could replace Virgil, but then again nothing was ever meant to. But it didn’t help the fact that Virgil was gone… fully gone.

Patton put on the suit slowly, then looked at himself in the mirror. It felt wrong, so wrong, to wear this suit, to wear those colours, to go to celebrate and mourn the life of one of his closest friends. Patton could feel tears threatening to spill over, but he tried his hardest to keep calm. For Virgil.

“One foot in front of the other,” Patton murmured, pressing a hand over his heart. “I miss you kiddo.”

----

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asoftervirge · 3 years

Text

Of “Love” & Murder - (12/13)

CHAPTER TITLE: Revenge, Like Chocolate, Can Be Both Bitter and Sweet

RATING: M PAIRINGS: P. Sanders/V. Sanders (main/one-sided); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/L. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/D. Sanders (former); Remy/E. Picani (side); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINKS: Remus Sanders, mentions of Satanic symbolism, Ted Bundy/Jeffrey Dahmer/serial killer references, Rocky Horror Picture Show reference, Poison, Swearing, mentions of Janus Sanders, referenced Smut, Smutty Thoughts, mentions of Sex Toys, Thanatophobia (fear of dying), mentions of Previous Deaths, various Methods of Murder, mentions of Violence, Descriptions of Murder, brief mention of Prison Rape, Dumpster Diving, Eating/Eating Gross Food, talks of Grey Morality, Morally Grey Patton, Baking/Food mentions CHAPTER SUMMARY: Patton meets with Remus.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here we are! We’re now at the second to last chapter! Despite the low reception of this fic, I’m very happy with it and it’s been so much fun posting it and seeing everyone’s reactions to it. Fun fact: I’m not real sure what rating this chapter would be under. Obviously it has mature stuff because of Remus, but it’s not too extreme to where no body can read it. It’s not a murder chapter, but he does talk about murder, so maybe it’s best to leave it M rated. lol Happy All Hallow’s Eve, everyone! Have fun reading! xx Virge

INSPIRATION: This post by @phantomofthesanderssides

AO3 || Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

To say Patton was nervous was an extreme understatement.

He was pacing back and forth in an alleyway— the location where Remus wanted to meet— going between fiddling with the hem of his sweater, and twirling a stray curl of hair. Blue eyes frantically scanned the dingy place he was in, not wanting to suddenly be jumped by a dangerous stranger.

Brick walls were stained with something the confectioner didn’t want to know what. Droplets of water from the gutters above dropped down onto the cobblestone. Garbage cans were tipped over, rotting food and other things made the air smell putrid.

A black cat scurried from behind one and past his feet, meowing loudly.

Patton squeaked and flinched as it went by. After collecting himself, he started to fidget more.

He hoped Remus would be here soon. With every minute he was in this alley, he was growing more and more frightened.

Despite this, he tells himself that this is worth it.

For Roman.

For Logan.

For Dorian.

For himself.

In the midst of his self-panic and self-reassurances, Patton didn’t catch the sounds of the metal fence behind him being scaled upon.

“So, you’re Patton Hart, hmm?” A high-pitched, slightly screechy voice said.

Patton yelped and spun around, instantly being greeting with the sight of Remus.

The man looked completely different from Roman, it was almost hard to believe that they were brothers, let alone twins. While the former thespian was composed, elegant, and beautiful, Remus…was anything but.

He looked like a rebellious punk, to put it simply.

Remus’ hair was oily-looking, very unkempt and scrappy; dark brown, almost black in color with touches of green hair dye in it and a single streak of silver. He was clad in a leather biker vest, various patches decorating it, and a fishnet shirt underneath which displayed all of his bruises, cuts, and scabs. His pants almost reminded him of Virgil’s jeans: ripped yet his were baggy as opposed to tight-fitting. His ankle boots were spiked, decorated with an upside down cross and a symbol that looked to be very satanic.

As a matter of fact, all of his jewelry appeared to be just that: skulls and satanic symbols. They were predominantly pieces that littered his neck, but he was also studded with a lot of piercings: a labret plus a lip, multiple ear and eyebrow ones, a chained nose, and a belly button. And all of them were silver as opposed to the gold Roman used to wear.

Looking at him twice over, Remus seemed to be a combination of Roman, Remy, and Toby.

Patton quickly straightened himself up, not wanting the other man to see just how scared he was.

“And you must be Remus Duke,” he responded back. His voice shook a little as he spoke. “I have to say, and I hope you don’t think me rude, but you looking nothing like your brother.”

Remus snorts. “That’s a compliment.” He tells him. “I’d rather not be a goody-goody Abel like my brother was.” He looked Patton up and down, giving him a quirked expression, “Ain’t you a bit saccharine to get help from me? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for beddy-bye time?”

“No!” Patton yells stubbornly. He recoils and tries again. “I-I mean, no. I really, really need your help, Remus. This is the only way I can truly stop Virgil.”

“Ha ha! So you’re also Virgil’s newest boy toy!” Remus grinned manically. Patton squealed and shivered in disgust at that. “I swear he goes through boy toys faster than either Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer did with their victims. Well, not as fast, but—”

“C-Cut it out!” Patton shrieked, stomping his foot in childish anger. He grew sickened at the thought of a monstrous killer like Bundy or a twisted cannibal like Dahmer, and comparing Virgil to them just made it worse.

(It was in that moment when the confectioner remembered the words Dorian told him before he divulged into how he was murdered. While Virgil was a horrible individual, he was nothing like how those men were. They were all criminals, yes, but the widower was somehow of a lesser evil.)

Trying to relax his shoulders, Patton asked again. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Still grinning, Remus jumped off the fence and onto the cobblestone. It wasn’t pleasant sounding as he fell flat on his ass. But he appeared to be okay as he shot straight into the air and began fishing through his pockets, humming Touch-a , Touch-a, Touch-a Touch Me under his breath while he searched.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed when he finally found what it was he was looking for. He pulled out a vial of sinister-looking liquid, skull and crossbones marked on the front of it.

Poison.

Cyanide, to be more specific.

“This should be the very thing that’ll fuck Virgy-poo up!” Remus exclaimed happily. Then he pouted. “Lucky bastard,” he mumbled. “Just put this in whatever it is you’re gonna give him and watch with glee as he chokes and dies! Ooh, that sounds fun! Can I come and watch too?!”

“No!”

Remus pouted more, actually looking sad.

Patton was about to walk over and grab the vial but Remus stopped him.

“Not so fast, Mr. Fluffy Butthole.” Patton scrunched his nose. A serious look was in Remus's emerald green eyes. “Why do I have the stinky feeling this is for more than just my brother?”

The confectioner reeled back. “…What?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten my number from Toby and call me by saying ‘how would you feel about helping me avenge your brother’ without wanting to do more.” Remus narrowed his gaze. “You wanna avenge Virgil’s other husbands too, don’t you? Spouses or whatever they were.”

Patton opened his mouth to try and say something, but all he could do was sigh and nod. “You’re right,” he finally tells him. “It’s for more than just your brother. It’s also for Virgil’s second spouse, Logan Oxford—”

“That author who seemed so stubborn xe had a stick up xyr butt? Man, xe needed to get laid.”

“…xe were asexual…”

“…Emotionally laid, then.”

“You mean having a loving, supportive relationship?”

Remus gagged. “Don’t be lewd!”

“Xe were also aromantic.”

“I could’ve helped with that!” Remus grinned. “But if xe were also asexual, then it would’ve been no dice. Hehe, dick ice, hehe!”

Patton ignored him and continued on from before. “— and his third, Dorian Cain—”

“Ah! The serpent-y lawyer whose tongue was for more than lying!” Remus grinned more. Since he was a little closer to him, Patton could see the yellow of his teeth. “I’ve heard that he and Virgil were a lot alike. Plus, they were really able to get” – he wriggled his hips – “it” – he started thrusting “on!”

The confectioner blinked, then sighed deeply and tiredly. How exactly was he Roman’s twin brother? (He could practically hear Roman sighing along with him).

“I was in cahoots with him, you know!” Remus tells him, still thrusting for some silly reason.

“So I’ve heard,” Patton tells him, not wanting to delve into details about the supernatural encounters he had. He didn’t need to give this guy the time of day. “They said you called him about wanting him to find evidence on Virgil, but he said no.”

“Yep!” Remus stopped mid-thrust and emphasized on the p. “He accused me of wanting to slander a celebrity, like everybody else did. But it was also because he didn’t want to put his own husband on trial or some other bullshit.”

He blinked then continued thrusting. “I wonder what would’ve happened if I got to him first?” he mumbled to himself in curiosity. He turned to Patton with a grin. “You think Virgil is great in bed? I would’ve given that lawyer the time of his life! We would’ve fuck for days and weeks on end using all the neat kinky toys I have! Plus, all the crazy flexible sex positions?!” He bobbed his head from side-to-side, singing. “Anyone Virgil could do, I could do better~!”

Apparently, Virgil did that and then some, Patton couldn’t help but think to himself, suddenly being reminded of how explicit Virgil and Dorian were. (If the lawyer were here, he’d probably be flattered and chuckle in his ear).

“But it’s more than them too!” the confectioner exclaims, continuing on from where he left off previously. “It’s for any other potential victim of Virgil’s…and me too…”

“Oh?!” This intrigued Remus as he now had Patton’s full attention. “How so?” He could see the confectioner tugging and fiddling with his sweater. Remus actually saw him doing this when he was stalking the alleyway. It must be a grounding mechanism for him or something, kind of like how he plays with his fingers.

“Because—because I’m scared of dying.”

Remus blinked. “You are?”

“Yes— Of course, I am!” Patton didn’t know why the other man was acting like dying isn’t something to be feared. Because, to him, especially in this circumstance, it was. “If I don’t do anything to stop Virgil, I’m scared I’m gonna die. And I don’t wanna die.”

Tears came to his eyes, he rubbed them away with a fist.

“I don’t want to end up like the others. I don’t want a ribbon around my neck, or arsenic in my belly, or a bullet in my head. I don’t want to have my life cut short by someone who might actually want me dead!”

Now he had both fists rubbing harshly at his cheeks. “There’s so much of my life I want to live. There was so much of their lives that they had yet to live. And I want to be able to avenge that…I want my friends, and even you, to be at ease knowing they finally found peace.”

Remus watched awkwardly as Patton cried in front of him. He wasn’t all that good with the emotional, cutesy, kind-wordsy stuff like his brother was. But if Roman was in this situation, he would know what to do better than anyone else.

He knew the moments when his brother would need a hug, and this would be one of them.

So, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Patton, letting him sob into his shoulder.

Patton curled further into him, not caring that he smelled of body odor and garlic.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay. It’ll all be a-okay.”

The confectioner sniffled. “How do you know that?” he asked, voice thick with emotion.

“Because that mean, nasty Virgil’s gonna get what’s coming to him!” Remus tells him. He takes Patton’s tear-stained glasses and licked them clean. He then walked over to a garbage can and fished out a dirty napkin to wipe them with. “Here you go!”

Patton grimaced as he put his… ‘newly cleaned’ glasses back on.

“Even if Roman didn’t like me all that much, he was one of my favorite people,” Remus continues. “And I was incredibly upset when he was killed, or ‘committed suicide,’ as the police suspected.” He narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to bring Virgil to court, I really did, but there was no evidence left at the crime scene.”

Remus snarled; fists clenched together tightly. “When they told me that…I was thinking of contemplating murder myself.” He shook his head. “There were so many things I wanted to do to him.” He began counting on his fingers, “Disembowel him, let my pet rats feed on his body, flood my teeth with his spine, build a sandcastle out of his ashes. You name it, I wanted to do it.”

Patton got visibly sickened with each possible method of murder and violence.

“And yet I couldn’t do anything. I may be a wildcard, but Virgil is much more cunning. He’s slipperier than a bar of prison soap.” Patton dared not ask what he meant by that. “Plus, he might’ve expected that I would come and destroy him when I got the chance. So, there wasn’t anything I could do.”

“But you tried though,” the confectioner says. “Despite there not being evidence, you still went and contacted Dorian Cain to try and see what would happen.”

Remus nodded. “Well, yeah. I figured I might as well eat the bullet and chew until I’m forced to spit it out. And so, I called Dorian’s law firm and asked anyway. Even though I was told ‘no,’ something deep within my dick told me that he might try and do something in secret. When I saw in the papers that he had also killed himself, I thought my chances were ruined for good.”

“However,” he then held out the vial of poison for Patton to take. He could see just how dirty his fingers were: bruised, chewed-up fingernails, chipped black and green nail polish, and grime around the cuticles. “You can be the one to finish him off. Do what me and Dorian couldn’t, and put that murdering piece of shit in the ground where he belongs.”

At first, Patton seemed hesitant about taking it from him, but after everything he’s witnessed, everything he’s heard, everything he’s feared, his resolve was hardened.

He takes the vial and stuffs it in his pocket.

Standing closer to Remus, he can see the details he couldn’t see from afar: flakes of dandruff in his hair; messy, purple, smoky eyeshadow; black lipstick that was slightly smeared; a little bit of stubble growing above his lip; along with any other cuts, bruises, and scabs on his skin.

Not only that, he could see the various patches on his biker vest; only a small handful of them were satanic and anarchist symbols, while the rest were a mixture of things Remus must enjoy. A green sword with tentacles coming from it, a Morningstar, an anatomical heart, a bloodshot eyeball, a skeleton, a peach, a couple octopi and krakens, an alien, a peach, a hazardous symbol, some that involve cursing and parental advisory, some dark Disney ones, an opossum with he/him pronouns, the aromantic flag, and lastly, one that has ‘Duke’ on it in graffiti.

Despite his appearance, Patton might consider this gross man…not so much a friend, but an ally.

“…Remus?” Said man leans in closer, making Patton bend back. “…Thank you. Truly. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without your help.”

He waved nonchalantly. “Eh, don’t worry about it,” he tells him. He walks over to one of the garbage cans and starts rummaging through it once more. “It’s the least I can do. Being an assistant— heh, ass-istant— is better than being forced to sit back and do nothing.” He pulls out a rotting banana, unpeeling it and then taking a bit bite out of it.

Patton looked like he was going to throw up.

Mid-chew, he looked back at the confectioner. “You know,” he mumbled, browning banana flying out of his mouth. “For someone who looks all pure and morally righteous, you gotta little bit of grey in ya.”

“I’m only doing this for good.”

“Maybe,” Remus gulps loudly then takes another huge bite. “But you’re still planning on killing him. No matter how you justify it, redrum is redrum.”

“Redrum?”

“Murder. The Shining. Stephen King.”

Patton hummed.

“Seriously though, who am I to talk morals schmorals to you? Good and bad is all made up nonsense!” Another loud gulp, another big bite. “So! When are you gonna do the do?”

“You mean do the deed?”

“Same thing!”

“Tomorrow.”

“Ooh! On Halloween night too!” Remus grinned excitedly. Patton had honestly forgotten that it would be Halloween, having been so preoccupied with everything has was going on at 613 Rue Morgue. “Are you suuure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, Remus. Thank you.”

Remus pouts again, but he quickly shrugged it off.

“Ah well,” he drops the banana peel at his feet. Litter bug. He started to scale up the fence, allowing Patton to see the large green kraken that covered his back. “I guess I’ll leave the rest to you. Good luck, Patton!”

With a gleeful wave, Remus jumps over and disappears into the shadows from whence he came.

Patton stays in his spot for the longest time.

Maybe…he was a bit grayer than he realized. Through his entire life, he was never really challenged on his morals. He always played by the rules and laws of life, not wanting to face the punishments for having done something wrong.

But now, he was.

He was faced with someone who had a complete disregard for them and is walking a free man with three murders (maybe even more) stained on his hands.

And here he was, wanting to change all of that.

Like he said to Remus, it was for a good cause: to have their spirits be appeased and to have Virgil never commit any heinous crimes ever again. Even if the solution was a permanent one.

Maybe…the other man was right. Maybe…good and bad really is made up nonsense.

With the thoughts of his newly-placed morals in his head, Patton finally left the alleyway.

The alleyway that Remus chose was in the lower part of town, the shadier and troublemaking part to be specific. And even though Patton could have chosen to take his car, he walked since he lived close by in the lower regions of downtown.

It was a long but much needed walk for the confectioner to take.

While the air proved to be chilly, the autumn leaves dropped down onto the ground, creating a little ombre of colors on the sidewalk. The night sky was a trifecta of rich purples, deep blues, and cool blacks. Dots of white twinkled above, making the picturesque scene complete.

Patton looked around at all the holiday decorations that were on display. All of the ghosts, witches, scarecrows, and grim reapers all gave him a bit of a fright. The fake tombstones and giant rope spider webs made him squeak and turn his head for a split second. But he smiled at seeing the differently carved jack-o-lanterns— some more intricate than others— and the outdoor lights that glowed in various colors, like orange, purple, green, blue, red, white, and black. Though what really got a giggle out of him, were the inflatables that stood on each lawn; some were of pumpkins, others were black cats, and was the occasional spooky tree.

Many people love going all out on Halloween, and the confectioner was one of them, having spent so many hours throughout September and October transforming the interior of his shop.

He continued walking into downtown, fog hovering over the street lamps as the air grew a little denser and colder. The streets were slightly bustling as people were walking to and from various stores, all in last-minute preparation for tomorrow night. Many of them were families, with children bouncing up and down excitedly about their costumes while the parents held bags that were presumably filled with candy and other goodies.

It all made Patton smile, for he had that same childish whimsy.

The confectioner didn’t stop walking until he came to a very familiar brown building, the words Patty’s Sweet Confectionaries swirled in fancy but readable font on the window.

Patton took a minute to gently trace his fingers across the white lettering. He still remembers the first day he opened its doors, a young and bright-eyed man who simply wanted to spread the sugary joy that his grandmother used to give him.

With a deep breath, he walked into his confectionery shop, the jingle of the bell above the door made his heart swell up a little. Once inside, he gazed around, nostalgia and melancholy shone in his eyes as he flipped on the lights.

Golden chandeliers glowed from the cream-colored ceiling as the shop became illuminated, presenting the changes that Patton had made. The only other things that remained the same were the dark brown and white tile, and the wooden stands and tables dressed with dishes and bowls, but what filled them had changed since September.

Eyeball-shaped white chocolate truffles, and ghostly popcorn balls were now the specialty treats for the holiday; along with cookies in the shape of skeletons, and white chocolate bark with candy corn. In the display case were still the traditional chocolates, but there were also pumpkin spiced cakes and cupcakes, along with macaroons of varying monstrous design and Frankenstein cereal treats.

However, the two favorites were front and center: gooey marshmallow, and glistening candy apples. The best part about them? The marshmallow is dyed in accordance to the holiday, and the candy apples were also coated with white icing to make it look like Snow White’s poisoned one from the Disney movie.

Walking in further, he plugged in the decorative lights that hung from the walls. The miniature pumpkin luminary bags added another layer of festive spirit to the store, and they paired nicely with the cutout garlands Patton had made some-years back.

The confectioner tenses up as he feels vial of poison roll into his hands from inside his pocket.

A part of him still feels conflicted about doing something like this.

Obviously he knows what Virgil did was horrible and wrong, but on the other hand, he wished there was a much simpler way to see his downfall come to fruition. But as Remy and Toby said, if the police were working with him, then it was impossible to see lawful justice be served to him. (Dorian tried it, and look what happened.)

So this was the only option he had left.

Resolve slowly hardening, Patton made his way to the kitchen to begin work.

He began pulling out giant mixing bowls— both silver and copper, measuring cups, double boilers, spoons and forks, and a plethora of ingredients in order to create the perfect box of poisonous chocolates.

Patton didn’t need to think about which ones he would give to the widower, he knew the recipes for each one by memory.

The first recipe read:  “1 lb of dark chocolate 16 maraschino cherries with the stem 3 tablespoons softened butter 3 tablespoons light corn syrup 2 cups sifted confectioners’ sugar”

Parts of the second read:  “2/3 cups dark chocolate chips 1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons of heavy cream A dash of cinnamon”

The third read:  “7 oz. finely chopped dark chocolate 1/3 cup espresso ½ tablespoons unsalted butter ½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder”

And finally, the fourth read:  “1 cup melted cocoa butter 1 tablespoon cocoa powder 3 tablespoon dark chocolate ½ teaspoon almond extract”

Within each recipe, he made sure to add the cyanide poisoning into the mixtures, adding a bit more than necessary so that it wouldn’t be masked by any of the other ingredients. (He wore protective gear, of course. The same mask and gloves he wore whenever he dabbled in making anything featuring liquid nitrogen.)

Hours later, he had batches cooling on racks and baking sheets. And after checking that he had a perfect set of thirty-two, he began the decorating process. Glazes, icings, and sugars scattered about in the air and dusted his face, hair, and fingers.

Once everything was done up all nice and pretty, Patton placed them all in a box: a black one topped with a bow of dark violet ribbon.

Patton stood back and observed his craftsmanship. A deep frown slowly made its way to his face.

The first part of the deed was done…

…now? It was time for Virgil to have a taste of his own chocolatey medicine.

#Sanders Sides #Patton Sanders #Remus Sanders #Of Love & Murder

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

Text

Where the Crossroads Meet Ch 1

Summary: In a locked vault is a powerful magical artifact. It has the ability to tear cities apart and reform a new one with its pieces. Which is exactly why Remus, Wilford, and Anti find it.

A/N: This is (give or take) the 100th short I’ve made and I wanted to be a little special. It’s also way longer than I planned for it to be.

First chapter’s a little bit odd in that events are happening at the same time. Remus, Wilford, and Anti are all doing things simultaneously and when we get back to Remus and the other Sides, that’s a new set of events.

Chapter 1: Distortion

~::~ Twenty Years Earlier ~::~

In a locked bank vault in Gainesville, Florida a ripple in reality ripped its way through time and space and a box glitched itself all over the room until it rested in the center.

Right as it glitched into reality, an alarm rang out throughout the bank as reality slowly began ripping itself into pieces. The bank split itself into three different places, the same bank with a different staff servicing it.

In Florida, a group of three masked vigilantes were standing on top of a neighboring building, watching the chaos as the police were driving up.

“Hey, Specs,” Creativity, Roman, the hero in a red cape and a white mask with red and golden accents with large red feathers, “how much longer we gonna be standing here like glittery gargoyles? We’ve got people to save.”

“Patience,” Logic, Logan, the vigilante with a full face mask and visor, commented, “this isn’t a situation we can rush into.”

“This is so exciting,” Morality, Patton, the hero in a puppy mask and a light blue jumpsuit. Creativity brought them down to the police.

“We’ve arrived!” Roman announced in a sing-song voice.

“We were nearby, would you like us in a supportive or non-present capacity?” Logan asked. Roman frowned at him but didn’t argue his opinion.

“Normally we’d take you up on that,” one of the officers answered, “but the Duke texted eggplants and bank emojis at the police chief.”

“That scoundrel!” Roman responded. “Does he have no shame? He brings misfortune and shame on his entire family!”

Logan was just staring at him during the outburst, then turned back to the officer, “Is the Duke the only one causing the situation?”

“I was expressing my intense displeasure with the Duke,” Roman reminded.

“Yes, but there are more pressing matters,” Logan corrected sternly. “You can bring your grievances to the Duke if you are so insulted.”

“You don’t understand, his existence besmirches my art,” Roman proclaimed.

Logan rolled his eyes, already thinking of entry strategies.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Inside of a nearly identical bank in the city of Egoton, Wilford was sitting at the branch manager’s desk, feet propped up as he was filing his nails. The desk phone rang and Wilford answered it.

“Bank offices, handsome man speaking,” Wilford answered smugly.

“Wil,” Dark seethed. “Why?”

Wil pined the landline between his shoulder and ear, continuing to trim and groom his nails. “Ahh, Darkling, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Can you believe the service at this place is terrible?”

The phone crackled with Dark’s static, a clear indicator at how furious he was that he could affect the phone with that distance. “Wilford M. Warfstache, you are robbing a bank, of course the service would be terrible. Why are you robbing a bank?”

“Eh,” Wil shrugged, blowing dust off his nails. “Figured I’d check it off the ol’ bucket list, you know?”

There was a bit of silence, the sound of wood snapping crackled over the line, “If you don’t find something to make this mess worth my while you can bail yourself out this time, you hapless fool!”

The line cut off suddenly and Wil frowned at the phone. “Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

He stood up and carefully walked over the branch manager, who Wil had helped take a nap. The man had looked so tired and so he and the rest of his staff was already taking a nap, Wil doing his best not to wake them up.

Wil had something worth Dark’s while to find. While Wil appreciated Dark when he was feisty, hell hath no fury like Dark scorned in Wil’s humble opinion and best to mitigate that at all costs.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“Get back here!” Marvin shouted, throwing magic down the bank’s hall at Anti who was jumping from wall to wall, cackling like a madman.

“Maybe yeh should get glasses ta help yeh aim better, kitty cat,” Anti teased.

Chase was shooting one of his modified NERF pistols. So far he was the only one who was managing to hit Anti at all. J.J was frantically trying to keep up, they’d been fighting Anti in the bank for almost a half-an-hour now with J.J having to rewind them back to the start of the fight twice. He was tired, and tipped over something on the ground.

Winded, J.J just lay there for a couple seconds, looking back towards his feet to see a body lying there . . . with a bullet wound right through her heart, the expression on her face twisted in fear.

J.J froze in horror and shock, usually someone called ahead when they found someone Anti had killed. The mute was about to use his communicator to send a signal, but he blinked and the body was suddenly gone.

As if the woman had never even been there.

Desperately, J.J patted the ground where the body had been, but his hand met linoleum and empty air.

“Jay?” Jackie dashed in. “There you are, you okay?”

The mute hero heaved himself onto his knees, frantic moving his hands while he asked if Jackie had found any bodies.

“No, J.J, we cleared the bank this time, remember? Are yah tired? Yeh need me ta call Hein in?” Jackie’s voice was instantly concerned. “Where’d yah find them?”

J.J stood up, “After the battle, we need to win.”

Jackie looked worried and uncertain, the speedster picked J.J up and they ran over to try and catch up with the fight.

Jackie’s tinnitus was flaring up, he couldn’t tell if it was Anti or the adrenaline. Overhead the loudspeakers were silently shaking, as if something loud was playing over them but now sound came out.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

In the surveillance room of the bank, Virgil was loudly singing Bad Romance at the top of his lungs. He had the music blaring over the loudspeakers, much to Janus’s dismay, but the deceitful Side had been outvoted two-to-one so Virgil kept his playlist privileges.

“I want your love, and I want your revenge! You and me could write a bad romance!” Virgil shouted, dancing with the song, not caring if he was out of key because no one was listening and the guard that had been in the room had been knocked out by Virgil’s fear powers a while ago. They’d taken the building without a fight, and without Virgil even lifting a finger.

“Oh~ oh~ oh~ oh~ oh!” Virgil shouted before hitting the blinking red light on the intercom, bringing the music down a bit. “Eh-lo?”

“Perfectly on key, Virge, don’t change a thing,” Janus told him sarcastically.

“Eh, why don’t you fuck off Janny, I’m having fun,” Virgil told him off.

Janus chuckled, his tone more relaxed, “I certainly wouldn’t know anything about that, just kick back.”

“Got it, got it, Mom,” Virgil smiled, rolling his eyes and flipping through the cameras. He looked at the back entrance and sat up. “We’ve got Helicopter Dad, and the Drama of the Opera at the back.”

“Thank you,” Janus told him. Then there was a heavy crash that seemed to shake the whole building. When the deceitful Side spoke again his tone was firm. “We’ll be out in five anyways.”

“Cool, got time to finish my song? Sweet!” Virgil grinned.

“Just be ready,” Janus warned and hung up.

Virgil began turning up the music again, because of the volume he missed the vent sliding open. “Hm~ hm~ hm~ hm~ Want your bad romance!”

Logic was carefully climbing down from the ceiling, braced for a fight but when he took in the full volume of the music and Virgil dancing he just stood there and sighed. The logical side waited for Virgil to notice him but when that didn’t happen, he just shut the music off remotely and Virgil startled.

“You apply yourself so poorly,” Logan chastised. “I shudder to think what would happen if you were competent in your ventures.”

“Hey!” Virgil glared at him, nervous at one of the Light Sides, especially an objective one — or at least one that wasn’t Princey — seeing his singing and dancing. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know that you should work on some decent pitch control,” Logan critiqued. “I advise a voice coach when you get to prison.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Roboto,” Virgil jabbed back and started to work his fear powers.

The logical side had to readjust his footing, but was clearly regaining his composure. Virgil grabbed his MP3 player and his bag and bolted for the door, trying to put as much distance between him and Logan as possible, throwing the door open and racing to where he knew Deceit and the Duke were.

In the background, he could hear someone following him and ran as fast as he could.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Wilford rolled his shoulders as he materialized into the main vault, not bothering with that monstrosity of a door. It was far larger than he expected it to be. Wil could hear music playing in his ears. He could hear distant, loud raucous music, the kind that Wil adored but Dark hated. He couldn’t remember putting music on, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

He’d planned on looking through some boxes, but he saw in the middle of the vault a rather ornate box floating in the air, practically begging to be stolen.

“Well,” Wilford smiled, flexing his suspenders and reaching up. “Don’t mind if I do.”

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Anti used his electricity to break through the actual vault door.

“Come on, shitebag, what are yeh gonna do with money anyways?” Marvin yelled, trying his best to freeze Anti in place.

“Burn it, ‘a fookin’ course,” Anti cackled, then he froze, which he only did half of his own volition when he saw the box floating in the middle of the room.

“Hello?” Anti tilted his head inhumanely, his form glitching out of any hold Marvin was trying to keep him in. Marvin himself was frozen by the sight of the clearly magical artifact in front of him and confused because that thing wasn’t there the last time they were in here.

“Da fook are you, sweetheart?” Anti told the box, Marvin shook his head to clear it, not wanting Anti to take the clearly magical and/or cursed box.

“I don’t fookin’ think so!” Marvin shouted as Anti darted forward to grab the box.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Virgil raced down the hall to the central vault. “Gotta go! Gotta go!”

Janus looked down the hall, “Anxiety! You were supposed to stay at your post!”

“Logic’s here!” Virgil called out. “Where’s Remus?”

The two Dark Side looked into the vault to find Remus not stuffing a bag with cash and other valuables, but he was staring at a box floating in the center of the room, as if transfixed by it.

“Duke!” Deceit called out. “Put it in the bag, time’s up!”

The Duke startled but reached up for the box, his hand touching it at the same time as two other similarly chaotic hands touched the box.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The box jolted and shuddered in their hands before reality began to slam itself together.

Three doors appeared at opposite sides of the room where each of them had entered from the vault door. Wilford, Anti, and Remus all had a hand on the box and were all staring at each other in surprise and confusion.

“Well, old chaps,” Wilford tugged the box free, the ornate box glitching the different ways, each echo of the box being tugged to either of them. “I’ll be taking that.”

“Hey, I saw it first!” Anti shouted angrily. Remus was busy looking at the walls cracking around them.

“Find your own, I need this,” Wil huffed, starting to try and open up a hole into the Void, but to his surprise he couldn’t. “Huh, that’s strange.”

“Hand me that, it’s mine!” Anti shouted.

Then the cracking and splitting began to get far louder and seemingly intentional.

All three of them stopped arguing to watch the ground beneath them and the walls above them crack and divide.

“Jan’s gonna kill me,” Remus laughed a little at the same time as Wil’s admission.

“Dark’s gonna kill me,” Wil held the box closer to his chest.

Then the ground split as Janus and Virgil appeared at the door to the vault. Before Janus could call out the world seemed to twist and bend, and everyone was pulled apart as reality collided with itself.

NEXT =>

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starstruck-xavier · 4 years

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It Will Only Hurt If You Let It

ao3 || wattpad || fanfic masterpost || main masterpost

words: 1925 ships: analogical (no romance implied but think of it however you want) warnings: injuries, angst

summary: "Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed, and I don't want to talk about it." - Logan and Virgil talk after the events of Putting Others First.

Logan materialised again in the mind palace, feeling a multitude of things; dejected, lightheaded and a pain in his side coming from that cane that pulled him away from the discussion. After being thrown around from within his text box, actively ignored and disregarded, he couldn’t come up with any words to describe his current mental state other than shitty.

The logical trait found himself in the kitchen of the mindscape, about to reach for the coffee machine yet again to keep himself coherent just in case he was actually needed. A seedling of doubt planted itself in that thought, making him hesitate, but he started the machine anyway. The sound drowned out the faint discourse and what sounded like laughter going on in the real world, allowing him to put his mind at ease for only a few blissful moments.

Logan knew that in order to perform his job at its highest efficiency he’d need less coffee and more actual sleep. However, it appeared obvious to him that Deceit had everything covered, seeing how he had easily replaced him without anyone else knowing. Heck, they only found out he’d been impersonated because Deceit decided to reveal himself! Logan sighed sadly. There was likely a mild bruise forming where the cane had snagged him, making him fixate on that lasting pain as he brought the fresh coffee mug up to his lips, fogging his glasses. The faint breeze of Roman entering the mindscape, directly to his room, touched his being in such a subtle way that, if he wasn’t already thinking about it, he wouldn’t have noticed at all.

It was only after a moment of thinking about that breeze that Logan also felt the feeling of being watched. The sound of someone clearing their throat made it to his ears in time for him to whirl around towards the countertop.

“Ah— Virgil, greetings.” Logan set his mug on a different counter before he could spill the beverage in his surprise. Virgil raised an eyebrow, looking equally as troubled as him. One foot had been pulled up to rest on the countertop too, which Logan would’ve pointed out was unhygienic if there wasn’t such a depressing feeling hanging thickly in the air.

“I've been here for, like, ten minutes and you didn’t notice? What’s up with you today?”

Logan hummed shortly. “It’s a lot to explain, or even think about, in regards to today’s discussion with Thomas.”

“Well, I don’t have anything else to do, so I’ll listen.” The logical trait sighed before taking a sip of his coffee and returning the mug to the counter.

“I thought I’d provide my usual studies, examples and facts to keep the conversation from going too off track. I took the less physical form of a video game character with a text box because we have learned in the past that serious topics can be discussed in different ways. It seemed that Roman and Patton were attempting to explain what they thought by using video game metaphors, so this seemed fitting. I had previously acknowledged that my philosophical and psychological examples are not always received well by the group, so I gave them the option to ignore me. I just suppose I didn’t expect to be… uh— to be actually ignored so blatantly.”

Virgil frowned, letting both of his legs dangle off the surface and rocking backwards and forwards just slightly. “I wish I could’ve been there to listen to you.”

Before Logan could say another word, the slightly muffled words of the real-world discussion drew their attention.

“Janus?”

“I’ll take care of him.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Oh. Whoa. Well.” The rocking increased a little as he let the words play through his head, as if confirming he actually heard the name. “He finally told him.”

“Deceit’s name is Janus?” Logan inquired, to which Virgil hummed in affirmation through a bitten lower lip. The familiar breeze of Patton returning to his own room ran its course too. Meanwhile, the two inferred a continued conversation between Thomas and Janus. Nevertheless, Logan picked up his original question again. “Why couldn’t you make it, Virge?”

“Janus got Remus to distract me so I couldn’t interrupt his plans, or whatever. I just kept asking Remus what he was doing and eventually he caved and told me that Janus didn’t want me in the way for when he went out to help everyone come to a conclusion. As much as I know that I would’ve definitely been in his way just because I can’t help badmouthing him, I think… what he’s told Thomas is going to help him restore his mental health, which does help me out, ‘cause right now I feel awful.” Virgil almost looked guilty in the way that he fiddled with his jacket whilst wearing such a downcast expression.

Before Logan could stop himself, he remarked, “You’re not the only one.”

Virgil glanced up again. “What do you mean, Lo? Are you okay?”

“I— I mean,” The logical trait took a seat on one of the stools in the room as he tried to assemble his words. “I’m… a little frustrated. Patton asked me what I thought and then when I tried to talk he seemingly changed his mind. De— Janus… he pulled me away with his cane and replaced me for a while.” Logan held his mug up to his glasses again, hoping the steam would hide the hurt in his eyes. “No one noticed.”

“Oh, Lo.” Virgil hopped off the counter and took a few steps closer. “Are you hurt at all? Don’t lie.”

Logan set his mug on the counter again before feeling the bruised area to check it was still hurting. “Just a little. Got a cane pulled into my ribs and all that, but I should be okay.” The added sentiment didn’t help Virgil’s anxious demeanour. He was silent for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. Finally, it seemed that Janus had returned to the mindscape too, the displaced air barely felt.

“Logan?” Virgil didn’t make eye contact, making a regular tapping sound with his knuckles next to Logan’s mug.

“Yes, Virge?”

“When Thomas first met Remus, and he injured you like that, you felt that too?” Logan saw the alarm creeping onto Virgil’s face, quickly conjuring the anxious trait’s favourite fidget cube and handing it over to him.

“Well, Remus on his own is quite easy to handle. Since we’re not real, if you tell yourself that it will only hurt if you let it, the pain can quickly go away. I had mentally prepared myself for Remus’ antics ever since Thomas began to feel troubled the previous night, therefore that didn’t really hurt me. This situation was a little different, though. I just can’t shake the thought that I wasn’t actually needed and that I got hurt for no reason. So, the pain seems to be running its course.”

Virgil pressed the buttons on his cube, attempting a deep breath as he did so. “Logan, you’re always needed. When you cooperate with Roman, you can help Thomas to focus on his smaller goals before taking unnecessary risks with bigger ones. You and Patton help Thomas to build life skills like cooking so that he can be a more functioning adult. You can ground me when I’m being too much. You can very quickly shut down Remus and… you have the facts to debunk Janus’ lies. Without you, every part of Thomas would go crazy.”

Logan smiled sadly. “I think everyone else can lose sight of that. It’s appreciated that you don’t, though. You’re my only hope sometimes.” He chuckled, feeling that heart-clenching feeling that always preceded tears. Virgil noticed how Logan turned his head to the side in an effort to force that feeling down.

“You’re allowed to cry, Lo. It’s only us. No one minds if you do, anyway.” The anxious trait took Logan’s hand for comfort, watching as his eyes began to redden with the salty solution. “Eventually people reach their limit for this kind of thing. You’ve been hurt a lot more than the rest of us. I will say I’ve never really been hurt by another side - it’s almost as if I’m out of bounds for slapstick - but I know that pain affects us. It’s alright to not want to get hurt.”

With each word, the feeling continued to rise until Logan couldn’t control the pool of tears spilling onto his cheeks. His eyes scrunched at the corners and he removed his glasses with his free hand, blurring his vision even more. Virgil let go of his hand for a moment; Logan could only hear the sound of another chair being moved to touch his, then Virgil sat close to him and secured an arm around the middle of his back, careful not to touch where it hurt. Logan let the sobs wrack his body softly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about his current state as he fidgeted with the glasses in his hands. Suddenly the pain felt so much worse, and he audibly winced as he leaned further into Virgil’s comforting touch.

“Is it hurting, Logan?” Virgil asked softly, tracing circles into Logan’s back with his thumb. Logan could only nod, one hand clamped over his mouth as if he was scared to cry louder. “Just remember,” Virgil echoed the logical trait’s words from earlier. “It will only hurt if you let it. You are needed and you should be listened to. You don’t deserve to hurt.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually, Logan was able to hang onto what Virgil had said. He was logic - they were all supposed to listen to him. The pain began to lessen, only pulsing quietly. Moving his hands to wipe his tears away, Logan managed a heavy sigh, his mind still on the bruising. Virgil continued the steady circle motion, using his other hand to take Logan’s.

“Are you okay?”

“Not fully, but better.” Logan’s voice sounded strained from the emotional outburst he had finally let out, and the pain still made itself known, but the worst was over. “Thank you, Virgil.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, dude.” The ghost of a smile traced Virgil’s face. “I know that I’m usually the side who needs constant reassurance, but I'm here if you ever want to vent.”

Logan nodded. “Likewise.”

The silence that fell over the two afterwards felt comfortable; Virgil continued his comforting motions and Logan finished his coffee, the bruising completely slipping his mind. It was nice. Only a few minutes passed before Patton’s footsteps could be heard padding over to them and he was apologising for disregarding Logan, and Logan said it was okay. The paternal trait began talking about the discussion, bringing the two up to speed on everything. Perhaps Virgil felt too worn out after a mentally taxing day for Thomas to care too much that Janus was being trusted, or maybe he was finally growing to accept it. The atmosphere in the mind palace thinned out to allow room for deep breaths, laughs and kind smiles. Even when Roman appeared from his room with puffy, regretful eyes, he was pulled into the fun and quickly cheered up.

Logan hadn’t wanted to talk about it before, but now he didn’t need to. Virgil remained by his side while the four of them chatted about miscellaneous things and sang whatever songs got stuck in Thomas’ head. At one point the two shared a look; maybe it was going to improve from here.

They were both ready to accept that.

#sanders sides #xavier's fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #analogical #virgil x logan #logan x virgil #svsr #selfishness v selflessness: redux #yvy #you v yourself #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #putting others first #pof

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not-safeforsanders · 4 years

Text

Be My Baby / Devil Like You

This fic is based on Bea Miller’s Be My Baby, and Gareth Dunlop’s Devil Like You. Yeah I know, that’s a bit of a whiplash between two songs.

Fic Synopsis: Roman knows how to dance, Patton knows how to pray, Remus knows how to use his mouth and Logan knows how to shut it. Meanwhile, Virgil and Janus think they’re all idiots and are begging for some healthy communication. (University!AU)

Warnings: Religious trauma, religious guilt, discussions of religion, let me know if more needs to be added. This chapter is smut free sorry to disappoint lads

Ships: Intrulogical, Royality, Anxceit.

Word Count: 3285

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Read on AO3

Roman has loved dance most of his life; sometimes he wonders when that had started, it was certainly no love incubated by his parents or indeed anyone in his life at all, it was simply a need to express everything that he couldn’t, in ways no-one but himself could understand. When he dances he feels like he’s speaking in his own language.

See, no-one in his life had ever really taught him how to cope, so the young man had taught himself his own mechanisms to stop an explosion occurring every-time he felt negatively. His parents' idea of emotional management is to have all the outward expression of a teaspoon, and his brother feels so much so fast that he barely pauses for a breath, Roman, in this regard, had been alone to his own devices.

So choosing performing arts as his path in life had seemed the natural progression once he understood how the human body can move. How it can feel, how sadness can be shown in fluid movements and not just tears.

Between classes he likes to spend time in the auditorium, just him and his movements and the music, it makes him feel as calm as a windless sea, or perhaps a summer breeze. It’s the only real peace and quiet he gets if he’s honest, in a room far too big for one person, and owning a stage that should take more than one body to fill it.

Roman is not used to being interrupted, either, which is probably why he doesn’t notice the door open and closed, and someone walk towards the stage, a look of awe set in a face used to expressing only anxiety. When he does notice, he pauses and jumps, clearly startled, and his hands fall by his sides as he steps towards the front of the stage. “Sorry,” Patton’s timid voice breaks the sound of music trailing off “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“I don’t own the auditorium,” the words come out much blunter, more chaste than he’d intended, there’s just a brunt force of discomfort with this person witnessing something that was personal to himself. Not that he doesn’t dance in front of thousands, but that is practised and controlled, what he’s doing alone is...experimental, personal. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, it’s...nothing,” the jitters return, and Roman wonders if this man will ever look him in the eyes “you’re a really good dancer.”

“I know,” The redhead grabs his bottle of water and sits down on the edge of the stage, wiping sweat off his forehead before he unscrews the cap and chugs. “Do you sing or something?” Patton shuffles his weight from one foot to another as though he’s being scrutinised, the nervousness written all over him is an easy one to read. “It’s all right you know, I don’t bite, and I won’t make fun of you.”

The smaller man sighs and nods “I like to sing, I don’t think I’m very good at it, though, it’s just something that makes me happy.” Roman nods and then gestures to the stage. “Oh no, I can’t I’ve not sung in front of anyone alone before,”

“Well if you don’t try it once then you never will, and if you’ve been coming here, I get the feeling you want to.” Patton stares up at him long and hard, before he sighs and puts his bag down on one of the seats. He’s shaking as he walks up the stairs, gripping the handrail firmly as the stage creaks just a little, its age showing under his weight. Roman pats the wood next to him and Patton sits down “Is there a particular song or…?”

“No, I just put my Spotify on shuffle,” Roman nods and crosses his legs as Patton pulls out his phone, his hands are still shaking, and the actor pities the nervousness; he used to feel like that all the time too. “Is it weird to feel this scared?”

“No, that’s pretty much par for the course with any type of performing, but I promise you no matter what I won’t laugh or lie to you, and once you start managing this, then maybe we could see about getting you in front of a larger audience if that’s what you want.” The other shrugs a little, looking down at his phone.

“It’s what I used to want,” he admits quietly, biting his lip “but it’s not exactly something my parents would approve of, and this is my first time breathing without them over my shoulder.” There’s a quiet understanding in this, that tells Roman that Patton is not everything he seems; he’d assumed the other would’ve blindly followed his elders anywhere, but now he’s not so sure.

“Start whenever you’d like,” the green-eyed man offers a tight smile of reassurance to his companion, leaning back on his hands as the music plays through the battered speaker of Patton’s phone.

The introduction is soft and longer than Roman had expected, but he waits patiently, enjoying the soft sounds of strings and something else that he thinks is artificial. He’s never heard the song before so when Patton opens his mouth to sing he isn’t expecting it. He isn’t expecting that either, that sound that comes from him, in Roman’s hyper brain that sound is more quieting than any drug Remus could ever have given him. His voice is so calm despite the way his hands shake, gentle despite the hard look in his eyes, and so much emotion shoots through the redhead as he listens, a cascade of feelings that for a moment he thinks he could be drowning and not know the difference.

He has always been uncomfortable around genuine emotion but even he can’t escape the lulled rhythm of his heart or the way the air gets knocked out of his body as he listens to Patton sing. He’d expected to feel more awkward, more uncomfortable, but mostly he wants to lie down and listen to what he assumed angels sound like all day.

He almost thinks he hears himself fall in love with that voice.

By the time Patton stops, minutes later, Roman doesn’t realise that there are tears in his eyes. The other man seems to panic, apologising, saying he didn’t mean to make him cry, but the green-eyed man smiles and shakes his head “No, thank you, I can’t remember the last time I actually cried, what…” he takes a deep breath to stop his voice from cracking “What song is that?”

“It’s called Sorrow, it’s by Sleeping at Last,” Patton holds up his phone to show the album art, in case Roman ever wants to find it. “Was it good?” Roman nods.

“Dude, you should be on my course with a voice like that, have you ever had any sort of training?” A short laugh comes from the blond’s lips, shaking his head with the smallest of shrugs, struggling to reply with that smile on Roman’s face. Not again, he thinks absently to himself, I really don’t want to do this again.

“No, I mean I was in my church choir but I’ve never had any formal training, in high school my teacher said my voice was a gift from God, and I think that’s the only time I’ve ever really...felt special, you know? But it’s just a voice, and there’s better, and I can’t handle crowds of people without shaking.”

“No offence but you can barely handle crowds of one person without shaking.” Roman doesn’t really think, he just takes Patton’s hand and holds it up as if to demonstrate a point. Patton doesn’t stop shaking, but his expression went sort of blank, and then he shivered a little; the redhead doesn’t miss the way colour flushed to the other man’s cheeks or the way he pulls his hand back being almost violent. “Sorry I didn’t...I wasn’t coming onto you or anything I was just…” He panics because the expression on Patton’s face is utterly unreadable, and for some reason the idea of the other thinking the situation was anything other than what it was, scares him.

“No...i-it’s okay,” Patton sighs “It’s not your fault, I’m just jumpy and unused to…” He trails off “...affection, especially from other men,” He looks down at his hands “It’s not something that I am supposed to enjoy, so I get a little intimidated by how everyone out here in the city just...touches each other, and…” his cheeks heat a little “...don’t have much reserve for such things, in both a platonic and romantic way.”

“If you’re referring to Logan and Remus I doubt there is much love there,” Roman chuckles and shakes his head “but I suppose you were raised to believe that sex and romance are intrinsic.” Patton looks a little confused, tucking a curl behind his ear as he looks up at the redhead, as though waiting for more explanation. “Well, Logan and Remus have only known each other a week and a bit, do you think that’s enough time to fall in love?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He asks, softly and confused, and Roman realises that he’s talking to the sort of person whose family would pawn him off to a pretty girl with a rich family, and he wouldn’t know the difference between that and true love.

“Love doesn’t just happen like that, Patton, first there is attraction, a crush, hormones...it takes months to really love someone, to get to know them and understand the parts you like and dislike and then working through the problems to find solutions, it’s learning how to be with them and also without them; one day Logan and Remus might love each other, but right now they’re just fucking around because one of them is finally free from the constraints of societal pressure and the other would fuck anything with a pulse.” The smaller man shifts uncomfortably where he sits, his hair falling into his eyes and he digests the information given to him. “Sex and romance don’t have to be the same thing, well it isn’t for us, I suppose for you they might be because of the way you were raised and that’s okay too, to want them to be the same thing...it’s just not okay to judge other people for that.”

“It’s not my place to judge anyone,” Patton shakes his head “It’s just all very new, you know?” Roman does know, so he nods and rests his own hands on his lap as the other takes a deep breath in. “Some part of me wants to say it’s wrong, but it wouldn’t make sense, really...would it?” He asks like he’s begging Roman to tell him it’s okay, an eagerness in his expression that is clouded only by his sadness. It takes the other man aback for a second as he registers something in the expression that makes his heart feel hollow.

“You’re raised to believe that God doesn’t make mistakes, that there is nothing and no-one that he doesn’t love, of course it doesn’t make sense for him to believe queer people are a sin,” he shrugs slightly “I was raised to believe that too, I just decided that they were wrong, I mean if there is a God, and I don’t know whether that is true or not, they wouldn’t make me like this just to hate me, surely? We’re raised to believe that God doesn’t make mistakes and that we must unequivocally trust the plans of our deity, but then insist that gay people are a mistake...it doesn’t make sense like that, I think that in truth a book was written in the social constraints of a society that just didn’t understand, and now hundreds of years later we can’t separate fact from fiction.” Roman meets Patton’s eyes for a heavy moment “In honest truth, how do we really know that the Bible is the word of God? How do we know that every sentence in it was written with the Holy Spirit, and how much of it was the opinions of men who like to control all that is different?”

Patton’s shoulders sag a little as he looks away, barely able to handle the intensity of his companion’s gaze, or the words coming from his mouth. “It’s hard to let go of what I was taught, I want to, believe me you have no idea how much I want to, but that is all I’ve had my entire life, my religion.”

“In other religions questioning their faith is almost imperative to their belief, would God want you to follow his word because you have been told over and over again, or because you have examined every angle and have chosen your own path, a path that according to christianity, he already chose for you?” The taller man sighs again “Put it this way, what is written in the bible was written by men, not God himself, nothing really stops these men writing down what they want others to believe, is there?”

“I think that’s blasphemy,”

“I think it’s common sense,” Roman snorts a little, sitting up a little and stretching his back. “Either way, Patton, you can either ask to swap flats with someone or deal with the fact you’re rooming with five gay men, it’s up to you...but you can’t go through your entire life scared of affection from other men, or affection in general.” He glances at the other, at his white button down and faded blue jeans, his sneakers are a little battered but it’s very clear he dresses to blend in. “I need to go get lunch, but...think about it Patton, you clearly don’t enjoy being homophobic, so maybe that’s something you should change.”

Patton sits in his silence as Roman stands up to leave, but he doesn’t say anything at all as he watches him walk away.

Logan does not feel quite like himself. He lies back in Remus’ bed, staring at the ceiling and making shapes out of the patterns of the cracks that adorn it; this is an old building, he’d realised that the moment he’d walked in, but as he stares at the cracks he understands that it’s not only old, but a little unkempt. His thoughts tangle for a moment, something he is unused to...these quiet little moments. Noticing the cracks in the ceiling.

He shivers and sits up, a heavy feeling starting in the pit of his stomach and soaking into his chest. Remus notices the disturbances and opens his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as his hand comes to rest on the other man’s bare back, his fingertips grazing some healing scratch marks from a frantic fit of passion. “Are you alright?” Logan opens his mouth, and then closes it again, bringing his hand to his cheek.

He’s crying.

“I...I don’t understand what’s wrong,” he whispers gently, closing his eyes and feeling his damp lashes graze his skin before he wipes them firmly. “I feel...bad.”

Remus sits up beside him, urging the other to shuffle back to lean against the headboard, Logan does as he is gestured to do so, his head resting back against the wall as it had earlier today for a whole new reason. “You have to think a little about why you feel bad, is there any problem that is coming to mind? Any trigger? What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” it’s a true enough statement. “We just lay down and suddenly I felt cold, as though all the energy just went out of my body and suddenly I felt like I needed to cry.” Remus nods and wraps his arm around Logan’s shoulder.

“That’s normal, all the adrenaline is leaving your system and this is the first bit of real peace and quiet you’ve had in a while, you’re always going from one thing to another and now you’re tired and have nothing to do, your big old brain is just adjusting to the lack of energy following a good fuck.” He presses a kiss to the side of his head firmly and playfully, and Logan smiles at the little comfort. “Besides, you went a long time knowing what sex was and having little interest in it, now you’ve started doing this every day and your body is a little confused, everyone’s first time can be a little anxiety inducing and yours was entirely unplanned, even if you didn’t consider it a big deal, it’s still a long time of having nobody else see or touch your body and suddenly for a week straight I can’t keep my hands off you,” his eyes flicker over the other’s bare chest “...or mouth for that matter.”

“That makes sense,” Logan admits quietly, nuzzling against Remus gently “I admit, I hadn’t considered the emotional effects, I have always considered sex to simply be a form of release, physical pleasure, but I have also never considered myself to be emotional in any degree, I have gone most of my life feeling neither happy nor sad.”

The ebony haired man’s smile slips and he recoils a little, looking down at the other carefully “Seriously?” His voice hitches between surprise and horror, looking down at the man still tucked under one of his arms with melancholy wonder. “How have you lived or survived this way?” Remus has never felt anything in small doses in his life, even now his mind is like the inside of a train station, with new routes being planned every minute by the drivers.

“It’s the way I was raised, men to be stoic and calm at all times, and at some point I just...stopped really feeling as well,” he frowns a little, his eyebrows drawn together as he shrugs “I suppose all this is quite a few bursts of euphoria that I’m not quite used to feeling, it’s addictive.” He looks at Remus, looks him in the eyes and inhales deeply when he sees the worry in them “Don’t...worry, I’m not going to become a sex addict or anything of the like, I simply feel as though eventually it will become normal to me, and right now it isn’t, so it’s a craving or hunger that can’t be satiated...always needing more.”

“I’ve noticed,” the dark-haired man leans up to capture Logan’s lips in his own, gently, with no promise of more; it’s the first time he’s kissed anyone like that in a long time, a simple need for the smallest admittance: ‘I am here, I am listening, I care’. Perhaps that is a wonderful thing, that Logan is changing, Remus just never saw himself as a rehabilitation centre for someone who didn’t know how to love, only a short-term fix like heroin in a needle. “Maybe we should slow down, stop for a little while, whilst you…” He’s cut off by a kiss, firmer than the one he’d just given, Logan’s teeth nip at his bottom lip and Remus shivers.

“No,” it’s mumbled against his lips after the heat has died, and Logan pulls away to smile at the dazed expression on the other’s face “I’m not quite in the mood for common sense and the right course of action when I’m with you, reasoning and logic and everything I’ve ever known just seems to disintegrate.” He kisses him again, just a peck, their foreheads resting together and breath ghosting each other’s lips. “It’s a very liberating feeling even if the aftermath is such chaos, the best way to adjust is to keep going.”

Remus is not going to argue with that, he trusts Logan to know himself.

#not safe for sanders #bmbdly

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