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gothighunicorntolerance · 3 years

Text

Baited

Logan is kidnapped by the Dragon Witch, a notorious super villain.

AO3

Putting his laptop in his bag, Logan stood from behind the librarian’s desk.

“Bye, Logan!” His coworker Patton said. “Have a nice day!” “Goodbye, Patton. You as well,” Logan slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking to where his car was parked, behind the public library where he worked. Stopping to fish his car keys out of his pocket, his thoughts briefly wandered to his boyfriend, Roman, who would probably be finishing up his shift at the restaurant he worked at. When Logan got home to their apartment, they would change and then go out to dinner- they had been planning tonight for a few weeks now, and though Logan wouldn't admit it to anyone except Roman, he was quite honestly very excited.

Right as Logan found his keys after checking all his pockets, he heard footsteps behind him. It was likely Patton, though he new Patton didn’t normally leave until later-

Before he could turn around, a pair of hands clapped over Logan’s mouth, muffling the shriek that escaped his lips.

He struggled, trying to shake off his attacker, but they were too strong. Logan was kicked to the ground from behind, someone still holding him. His head hit the asphalt and his vision became blurry- he was now just dimly aware of his hands being bound together.

He now lay helpless on the ground, his cheek and glasses pressing into the concrete, a knee on his back.

“Get him to the boss,” someone said before a cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. His vision blackened as hands grabbed him around the waist and started dragging him away from his car, away from tonight’s dinner plans.

Roman sat on the couch, looking at his phone and waiting for Logan’s text that he was heading home. As the hours ticked by, Roman became increasingly worried. If Logan was staying late, wouldn’t he text? It wasn’t like Logan to miss or forget plans, so what was the hold up? He and Logan had been planning this dinner for weeks, and their reservation was in half an hour!

Roman bit his thumb, a nervous habit that Logan was trying to get him to stop, and decided to call his boyfriend. Even though Logan was very strict about his rule that he had his phone on silent while working, surely he would pick up, right?

Roman took a deep breath and pressed the call button. It rang once, twice, and Roman mouthed “please answer, please answer, please answer…”

He answered!

“Logan! Hey, I was getting worried! Are you staying late?”

“If you want to see him again, you’ll come to number 7 Sanders Street. Be there in an hour or he goes. You will not tell anyone you have received this message, and you will come alone.”

The voice that replied wasn’t Logan’s, but it was a familiar one nonetheless.

“You! Dragon Witch! What did you do with him!?” Roman shouted into the phone, already jumping off the couch.

“You’ll have to find out,” she crooned. “Be there. I’m waiting.”

She hung up the phone and Roman let out a grunt of anger. How could he have been so stupid? He should have protected Logan better, he should have never made so many enemies!

Logan blinked his eyes, and for a moment thought he was still asleep. He sat alone in a pitch black room. He tried to stand, but found himself tied to a chair, handcuffs on his ankles and hands, the other end attached to the metal chair. He tried to shout for help, but all that came out was a pathetic “mhph!”, the duct tape digging into his lips.

And to make it truly impossible for him to escape, a rope was wrapped around his torso, tying him to the back of the chair.

Suddenly a ray of light fell on his face as a door opened and someone walked in.

Though he had never seen them in person, he knew exactly who just walked in.

She stepped closer to Logan, dragging a talon across his forehead. When she pulled away, something dripped down the claw- blood.

She smirked and, without warning, ripped off the tape that served as Logan’s gag.

“Dragon Witch,” Logan spat through his stinging, swollen lips.

A grin spread across her face. “Oh, you recognize me! I was sure I had to do some introduction!” “Why am I here?” Logan snarled. “Let me go.”

“Let you go? No, I don’t think I can do that. And as for why you’re here? Well, from what I hear, you’re very smart. So you should be able to figure it out.”

“Wha-” Logan was cut off by her hand covering his mouth- something he was getting very tired of people doing to him.

Another piece of tape covered his mouth, this one much larger than the last, almost covering his ears that he now realized were not supporting his glasses.

The Dragon Witch turned around, her cape flourishing behind her. Before she closed the door and left Logan in the dark, she looked over her shoulder and looked at him. “Oh, and for your sake, I hope you boytoy comes for you.”

As the door locked with a click, suddenly everything came into place.

The odd bruises Roman came back home with. The odd scars Logan saw on Roman’s back. And Logan knew who he was here.

He was bait for The Prince, the superhero who was also his boyfriend.

Roman drove, his heart pounding. The only thing he could think of was Logan- how afraid he must be, how angry Logan would be if he found out that Roman, of all people, was a superhero! Roman had planned on telling Logan, honestly! He just… was afraid of what Logan would say! But now Roman drove to 7 Sanders Street with his only fear being that Logan would be hurt.

He parked the car a block away and climbed up a fire escape. He would enter the building from above, find Logan, and get out, hopefully without confronting her. His cape dragged behind him and his mask was already sweaty from his anxiety for his boyfriend- oh, if he ever saw that damn Dragon Witch, he wouldn’t go easy on her!

Sparks flew out of Roman’s clenched fist, and he took a deep breath. What was Logan always saying?

Be calm, or else things can go wrong. Anger can figuratively cloud your judgement.

Right, Roman had to be calm. “Logan, I’m coming,” he whispered. “Just hang on, my love.”

Roman leapt across buildings, illuminated only by the moonlight, until he was on the roof of number seven. He opened the door that led to the rooftop and began his descent, his only light source a spark of electricity held between his fingers.

He silently trod through the warehouse, looking for any sign that Logan was here.

If he was the Dragon Witch, where would he keep his prisoners? He shuddered to think that Logan was a prisoner, but thought where he would be anyways.

Of course! The most central room at the top story- it would be the most secure room, and surely she would be expecting him to charge in from the front door!

Roman made his way toward the middle, and listened for any signs of struggle.

There- a faint noise behind one of the doors!

Roman closed his hand around the door handle and searched for a sign of life- he was able to find heartbeats after he learned from Logan that every human being gives off a small amount of electricity!

And there it was! A heartbeat!

Roman slowly opened the door, his other hand ready to blast electricity at anyone who wasn’t Logan.

But there, in the center of the room, tied to a metal chair, was Logan, his head slumped to his chest.

Roman rushed in and knelt beside him.

“Lo?” He whispered, touching Logan’s cheek. “Lo, it’s me, please look at me!” Roman said tearfully.

Logan’s eyes fluttered open and then widened in surprise.

“Lo, I’m going to get you out of here. Nod if you understand. Logan nodded.

“Okay. Okay, this is going to hurt a bit. I love you so much,” Roman said, peeling the tape off Logan’s mouth and cringing as he saw the extent of Logan’s injuries: a bloody lip, a black eye, and a cut on his forehead as well as a multitude of bruises on his arms and neck.

“R-Roman, I-”

“Logan, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner-” “It's okay, love. We’re going to talk later,” Logan said hoarsely.

Roman nodded and began untying the rope around Logan’s torso. With the rope gone, Roman saw the next problem. Everything else was metal- the chair, the handcuffs that held Logan down still, and even the floor.

It was as if the room had been designed to keep Roman from using his powers. And, knowing the Dragon Witch, it probably had.

Logan noticed his hesitation, because he said, “Roman, what’s wrong?” Roman could hear the twinge of fear in his voice.

“I- I don’t want to hurt you,” Roman hesitated.

“What can you do?” Roman looked away. “I’ve said too much already, and you probably figured out the rest… but I generate electricity, and- and everything here is metal.”

“Oh.” Was all Logan said. “Well, that explains the static.”

“Logan! I’m going to hurt you if I use my power, and you’re going to get even more hurt if I leave you here!” Roman was close to full tears now- he couldn’t see a good solution!

Logan thought for a minute. “Take my shoes off.” “W-what?” That was not what Roman was expecting to hear.

“Take my shoes off,” Logan repeated. “My socks, too. Then I need to put my feet on the floor, and then any electricity you use will be conducted by the metal and away from me.”

“Okay. Okay, Lo, I swear I am going to get you out of here. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Roman. Now stop wasting time and do it.”

Roman did as instructed and looked to Logan.

“Don’t tell me when you do it, I need to be relaxed. Now come on, Ro,” Logan closed his eyes as Roman put his hands on the cuffs, ready to spark.

Concentrating on the cuffs, Roman pictured electricity running through the chains to the locking mechanism, forcing the pins to open. And with a click, the locks around Logan’s wrists sprung open.

Logan stood from the chair, though his ankles were still bound.

“One more, Lo,” Roman crouched, putting his hands on the other set of cuffs, and with another click, the cuffs fell off.

“Can you stand?” Roman asked, holding out a hand.

“I think so-“ Logan got to his feet but collapsed with a quiet shriek.

“What’s wrong?”

“My- my knee-“

“That’s okay, I’ll carry you out of here if I have to,” Roman said.

“Ro-” Logan was cut off by a shriek.

“You!” Roman turned around to face the Dragon Witch. “You did this to him!”

Logan, his knee still injured, stumbled back into the chair as he watched the confrontation with a mixture of fear and awe. How could he be so lucky to be in love with someone who was so fearless? Who would face injury or death to protect him?

The Dragon Witch unfurled her leathery black wings as Roman’s hands crackled with electricity.

Roman took a step backwards and put himself in front of Logan, ready to Leo in front of anything aimed at his boyfriend, his love, at the nerdy librarian he was so lucky to have seen that night….

Her wings flapped, a gust of wind blowing Logan’s hair in his eyes. Her taloned fingers began to move in a circle, black mist sprouting from around her.

Then, before Logan could react to the burst of light shooting from the Dragon Witch, he was being thrown over Roman’s shoulder.

Roman sprinted out of the small room, the Dragon Witch right behind them. Roman ran up the stairs the way he had come, but all too late he realized the flaw in his plan.

He wouldn’t be able to jump around the rooftops and carry Logan at the same time.

Logan saw his hesitation, and, as Logan was prone to do, came up with a plan. “Roman. The authorities, while utterly useless, always come to the fights they think are going to cause collateral or infrastructural damage, right?” “Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with getting you out of here!” Roman shouted back, still running.

“It means you need to put me down and fight her! Then the police will come and take me to the hospital or something! I’ll say I got in the way of her plan or something, so she took me to this warehouse and then you saved me!”

Roman realized that Logan was right, as he usually was.

“You might get hurt!” Roman had reached the rooftop, the Dragon Witch still thundering after them.

“I know. But that’s a risk we have to take if we want to get out of here,” Logan explained, cupping Roman’s cheek as he was set down by some discarded wooden pallets.

Roman turned to face the witch as she climbed up to meet them.

“Dragon Witch,” Roman said with more anger than Logan had ever heard. “You hurt him. You will pay for this!”

“Will I, now?” She lunged at Roman, the black mist gathering again. A bolt of electricity shot out of Roman’s palm, striking her in the wing. She howled in pain, forcing Logan to clamp his hands over his ears. He watched with a morbid fascination as flurries of blows were exchanged, each landing hits on the other.

Roman’s fist connected with her shoulder while her talons scratched his arm, blood dripping onto the concrete roof. Angling himself into a sitting position behind the pallets, he clenched his jaw as he heard sirens approaching from below.

“Hey! Up here! Help!” Logan shouted, peering over the edge and waving his hands. A firefighter looked up in horror and began to run inside while another started to set up a ladder. The Dragon Witch looked over and let out a yell of fury. As Roman, unaware, readied another bolt, the witch dove in front of Logan just as Roman let the bolt go.

Logan couldn’t move, only seeing it come towards him. The white hot energy crackled through the air as it pummeled toward Logan.

It hit him square in the chest, the electricity spreading out through his arms and legs. The tingling sensation spread until he was numb all over and his eyes closed, but not before seeing Roman’s screaming face.

***

Logan woke in a hospital bed, IV tubes and heart monitors and other medical equipment in and on him.

The first thing he registered was the beeping, and not a moment later a group of nurses came in. The next hour was a blur of activity, of being asked questions like what did he remember (he was on the rooftop, watching the fight), who’s the president (that orange asshole, but not for long!), and who he wanted to see.

The last question was the only one he truly paid attention to.

“Roman,” he said. “I want to see Roman.”

A minute- or perhaps an hour- later, a nurse came in, followed by Roman, red eyed and disheveled looking.

Roman gasped and ran to his side.

“Logan, I-”

“Ro. Roman, I love you so much. C’mere,” Logan put his hand over Roman’s.

“Logan, Logan! I thought I lost you, and I couldn’t live with myself if I had. It would have been my fault, and I love you too much to ever be able to let go. Starshine, I love you so, so much. I love you more than there are stars in the sky.” Roman began crying again, and Logan put a hand on his face to wipe away the tears.

“It’s not your fault, Love. Please don’t blame yourself.”

“But Logan, I hurt you!”

“No, no you didn’t. You saved me, Roman. If you hadn’t come, I would still be tied up in that dark room, and I wouldn’t know where you are. But I’m here with you, and that’s what matters to me. Now stand up and kiss me, you sap.”

Roman knelt over the hospital bed and met Logan’s chapped lips. Never had he been so glad that he was kissing his boyfriend, his Starshine, the love of his life.

And in that moment, Roman resolved that nothing, nothing would ever lay a hand to hurt Logan ever again.

And in that moment, Logan knew that Roman would do anything for him, and he would do anything for Roman.

“I love you so much,” they murmured against each others’ lips.

#logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan x roman #tss logan #tss roman #tss fic #tw kidnapping

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snowdice · 4 years

Text

Folds in Paper (Chapter 6: You Try to Cut Her Wires)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Chapter Summary:

You try to cut her wires but you're way too late.

-from the song “Time Bomb” by Iration

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“Really, Khalid,” Janus said, storming into his boss’s office before even sitting down at his desk that morning. “A yellow?” It had been about a week since the 1920s incident, and his incident report had finally been cleared. Sure, it wasn’t a red or a black and he wasn’t facing any reprimand, but it should have been a green.

She looked up at him, clearly unconcerned. “There was an incident,” she said. “You handled it well, but there was one. Therefore, yellow.”

“It wasn’t a time period incident! It was a rouge time traveler.”

“Janus, you helped me make these rules,” she said impatiently.

“Which is why I know this is bullshit,” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes. “If it was anyone else, you would agree with me. While you didn’t go against protocol and had no time related incidents, the fact of the matter is, you were still distracted by this ‘rouge time traveler,’ didn’t complete your mission, and were arrested.”

“He was good,” Janus said. “You can’t fault me for that. He also could be dangerous and you’re busy handing out yellows instead of working to track him down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We are working on tracking him down,” she said. “We have done an analysis on the mask and found fibers dating to the 2010s and some DNA. Though it isn’t exactly a high priority.”

“We have no idea who he is or what he’s planning to do. Why is that not a high priority?”

“At the moment?” she asked. “Because we have reports of a time bomb being activated.”

“What?” Janus asked straightening up. “When?”

“New Years Eve going into the year 3,000 in Brazil,” she said. “Which you’d know about if you’d bothered to check your integration port this morning before storming into my office.”

“It’s my mission?” Janus asked.

“The incident investigation is over and your active again despite the dreaded yellow,” she said, clearly making fun of him a bit. “So, yes, and it’s a high priority mission, so it is our mission. I’m leading it.”

“Who all is going?” he asked.

“Other than the two of us, Remus, Lena, and Fred,” she told him. “We leave in three hours, so, you might want to run off to Rhi before Fred gets to her and ties her up for an hour on details.”

Janus nodded and got to his feet. He turned back at the door. “I still don’t deserve the yellow,” he hissed.

She waved him off. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Picani.”

He ground his teeth a bit about the dismissal of his worries, but his resentment was slightly soothed by the fact that she’d assigned him to go on such a high priority mission and with only other senior agents.

He took the advice and grabbed Remus from the office, noting Lena hadn’t been able to wrangle Fred yet as she was still at her desk, and they both headed off to see Rhi.

A few hours later, they were all in decontamination together, decked out in truly god-awful costumes. The turn of the third millennia had been a wild event, and the best way to fit in was to look like you’d grabbed something from every century in recorded human history, dyed it in neon paint, and rolled around in a vat of glitter.

Remus had opted to stick his head in a vat of thick glow in the dark green paint that costuming had offered them. It was so caked on that Janus couldn’t even recognize him on sight, and it wasn’t even going to be slightly disruptive to their covertness. In fact, costuming had frowned when Janus had insisted he not get his hair dyed and instead wore a bowler hat. They had required him to have flowers made out of glitter on it.

There were five people waiting for them when they landed 6 hours before the turn of the millennia. Three were touchdown agents, including Remy, and two were on location tech support. Usually it would be overkill to have that many people there just for support even with five agents in the field, but today the TPI needed to be cautious because they were planning on instituting a time lock.

Time bombs were dangerous things that would ripple through time if not contained. They were nests of anywhere between 10 and 50 bombs that were set off by one core explosion. This core explosion would punch through space-time and spew the multitude of bombs across different places and times. Beyond just causing huge explosions where they landed, they would also pose a danger to any time travelers that accidently traveled through them and they could cause disruptions in the timelines around the source and where each one ended up. Once they went off in their source time, there was very little one could do to stop the damage. Thus, the time lock. The time lock would make sure that even if it did end up going off (killing everyone in its reach), the damage wouldn’t extend outside of the city and, more importantly, the year it was planted.

Janus had only been in two time locks before, and he was one of the most senior agents in the TPI, outranked only by the founder: Lia Khalid. Time locks were designed to keep all time linear in a certain fixed time and geographical area as well as prevent any time travel in and out. Once it was engaged, all forms of time travel would not work for the duration, bar the pin device. Khalid was already switching out her regular timepiece with the slightly bigger one that was designed to support the time lock.

There was a failsafe back at the TPI that could be engaged in an emergency, which was why tech support was here, but other than that, the only thing that could break the time lock was that timepiece, and said timepiece would break the moment the time lock ended, making it impossible to return to the inside of the timelock.

As soon as it was on Khalid’s wrist, she looked up at them all. “Our information says the time bomb was planted in the costume of one of the ‘Millennium Birds’ who are the organizers of the different events,” she said. Janus had seen a photo of the identical costumes in the mission details. They were all robe like garments with giant fans of feathers coming from the neck that coalesced in a peak a foot above their head to hold a fake bird egg. At least they’d be easy to find. “There are 25 of them throughout the city. We need to find each of them. So we don’t double count, you’ll need to subtly,” her eyes touched on Remus, “scan each one you find for the bomb and tag them with a tracker if it’s not on them. You can view the already tagged ones, as well as the rest of us on your timepiece even once the time lock is engaged. When you find the bomb, call it in.”

They all nodded, and Khalid looked over at one of the techies. She nodded at her and then the techie flipped a couple of switches. “Three, two, one,” the techie said. There was a slight shift in the air that most people would disregard, but Janus, as a seasoned time traveler, could feel the change even before his wrist buzzed. He glanced at his timepiece to see it had a big red ‘X’ across its display. He tapped it and was still able to bring up the map of the city with 10 green dots on it all clustered together in their current location.

After that, he tested the scanner on his timepiece that he would use to search for the bomb, just to make sure the time lock hadn’t messed anything up with his equipment. He glanced up to see everyone else was doing the same.

“Keep in contact,” Khalid said before everyone split up. Janus and Remus started by going North while Fredrick and Darlene were to go South. Khalid was a floater who would tag any Birds she saw but was mostly there for backup and orders.

Janus and Remus stepped into the chaos of New Years Eve before the turn of the third millennia. The streets were already swamped with people and it would only be getting worse the later it got.

“Where should we start?” Remus asked.

“Let’s go all the way North to the games area,” Janus said. “We can work our way back here.”

“Okay!” Remus said. “I wonder if they have those fun little genetically modified goldfish as prizes. I’ve always wanted to eat one and see if I end up getting whatever design was on the fish on my body.”

Janus gave him a disgusted look.

“What?! People eat fish all the time!”

Janus shook his head. “We’re not playing the games anyway. We have work to do. Important work.”

“Boo,” Remus replied. Janus chose to ignore him.

A few minutes later, he spotted one of the Millenia Birds letting people into the gaming area.

They walked over towards the entrance. Janus got in range first and moved to subtly scan the Millenia Bird, Remus doing the same the next moment. After a second, Janus’s timepiece buzzed and lit up red, meaning the bomb was within range. “Well, that was easy,” he said. “It was on the first one we found.”

“Uh…” Remus said. “Jan.” When Janus looked, he was holding up his wrist to show his green lit time piece.

“What?” Janus asked. He quickly moved to rescan the Millenia Bird, and his timepiece came up green as well. Which, meant the bomb was not in range, even though the Millenia Bird had not moved. “But…” He and Remus’s eyes met, and they quickly both started turning in a circle to look at the crowd around him. No one looked like they’d just stolen a time bomb off the Millennial Bird, but then Janus’s eyes caught on a man.

He blended in perfectly to his surroundings. He was wearing the disgusting garb of the times, a large light blue piece that bubbled near his hips, and he had most of his skin covered in rainbow neon paints. Yet, something about him, the curl of his hair or the way he moved, drew Janus’s eyes to him. He recognized the man immediately even in a completely different dressing style. Yet, what cinched it was the moment Janus’s eyes met his, and they seemed to sparkle slightly in the afternoon sun. The next moment, the person Janus knew as Pat, turned to disappear into the crowd.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #moceit #time travel #adriana writes #folds in paper #folds in time universe #bomb mentioned #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #roman sanders #creativitwins

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hydra-collector · 4 years

Text

Whole: Chapter One

AO3

Fic Page (all chapters listed here)

Second Fic in the Series

Chapters Finished: 6/6

Ship: Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders (minor)

TW: self-harm, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, food, sex mention

Words: 3,630

Summary:

Logan can't feel.

Because every time he does, someone gets hurt. His emotions have no place in the world. He vows to squash them down until finally, maybe they'll be gone. But it's not a good idea to suppress such an important part of yourself, to tear your sadness, happiness, anger, until you're left dry and empty.

And Logan doesn't understand that until he meets someone. Someone very, very special.

Note: I actually have this finished, it will be updating daily. I’m likely going to write some extra works, later in Remus and Logan’s lives.

Why are you yelling? Stop yelling, stop.

Logan didn’t know what else to do. He had to tell them why this was happening, they were wrong, he couldn’t control this. It was awful, this awful feeling that made him completely unable to focus while incredibly worried about how he wasn’t focusing. He was just trying to tell them why.

But he didn’t have to yell.

He had no reason to be angry at them. They did nothing wrong. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to scream and cry and hug his mom. He wanted her to understand what this was like. The fuzzy mold that dug into his brain and gave him fears that he didn’t want. The bricks that crawled into his chest and weighed him down and he couldn’t get up. But she didn’t understand them and he couldn’t explain, so he yelled.

He hated yelling. It hurt, it scratched, he knew it was bad and he should stop, but he couldn’t. He needed to cry and he did cry, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to destroy something, he was angry, he wanted to punch someone.

He couldn’t.

He was nine, he shouldn’t be doing this to his mother. She was good and kind, and all he did was hurt her. He was awful to her, and she tried to help, but he couldn’t stop from getting annoyed, or angry, or sad. He couldn’t help but wail when the bricks got too heavy, he wanted them to be lighter. He had to move, had to hit something when the fears wouldn’t go away. He was scared his mother hated him, that she would abandon him with his brother. It didn’t make any sense, but he knew what he was doing to her and he didn’t stop. He was too much work for her.

Two years later, he was the same. Still loud, still full of emotions. His throat hurt all the time, his mother kept getting fed up (she’d tried to take him to a therapist and that didn’t work), his brother Patton was scared for his health, and his dog wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. He’d developed ways to stop bothering them, though. Hold his hand to his mouth and bury his head in the pillow until the frustration went away. Bite his arm so he couldn’t keep screaming. Hit his head again and again and again until he couldn’t be angry anymore. It hurt. It was calming.

He’d managed to become a bit less of a nuisance, at least. He’d tried to stop explaining the bricks and the mold and just let them be. They always fade after a while to something manageable. His tears were his own now. His emotions were his, and no one else needed them.

He tried to be happier for his mom. He spent more time with Patton, trying to make him happy. Patton was concerned for him, and he appreciated that, but he knew asking for help would only make them suffer, and they weren’t allowed to suffer. Only he could suffer.

He vowed to become a robot someday. Where he didn’t want to scream or hurt people. Someday it would be gone, everything would be okay. Maybe he’d have a wife and kids that he didn’t hurt like the people he loved now. They would love him and he would deserve it.

Another two years and it had a name.

Depression. Anxiety. Mental illness. They told him what he was and he hated himself even more. He was a thirteen year old being told that he’d been sick since he was a child. He was given ways to cope. He’d never tried to bleed.

He did the day he learned he could.

It was freeing. Hitting and biting was hard, but slicing his skin was so easy and so pretty. The blood that rose from within told him that he was a person, and an awful one. If anyone ever saw, it would be the end of this.

He didn’t yell anymore. Most of the time he was absolutely silent. Yes, he participated in class so he didn’t get a bad grade, but only the bare minimum. He never raised his voice, never allowed himself to laugh too loud. His brother was scared for him, but he didn’t know the half of it. He had few friends, only one other anxious teen named Virgil. He felt more comfortable talking about fear and self-hate, but only in a joking way. He had to close himself off from everyone. He couldn’t hurt anyone.

His mother had, again, tried to get him to go to therapy. She said it would help his anxiety. God, she didn’t even know. He stopped cutting his arms pretty early on, since his mother got concerned that he always wore long sleeves. His legs got all the more blood on them.

How could he have this with people who care? How could he hate himself this much when nothing had ever happened to him? Why had this ever happened?

He didn’t know.

Fifteen was his worst year yet.

He’d made so many friends this year, yet it all got worse. He felt like he couldn’t breathe most days, like every day he was dying. He wanted that, he wanted this feeling gone. How could he heal after eight god damn years?

It was a warm October morning today. The sun shone on his back, glittering across the autumn leaves. The normally boring school looked orange and majestic. Students laughed and chatted as he passed by.

It had been a bad month. He was sure that he’d only been happy for a couple hours in the past thirty days. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t killed himself yet.

Patton was talking to him about something, probably about another cute kid. Ever since he’d come out as pan, he’d endlessly talked about the people he found attractive. It was exhausting for Logan to hear his brother point out girls he might like. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to come out.

He wanted to date. It might be nice to have someone to kiss and cuddle, to offer comfort when the days got bad. To have more comfort than cold, sharp blades. He couldn’t do that, though. He’d hurt enough people already.

Still, he couldn’t help but fantasize about some guy that would share his interest in science, talk to him about space and chemistry and biology. He wasn’t good enough for someone like that. Someone that would never date him.

He waved to Roman and Virgil as they passed. They were probably scheming some new way to get out of doing classwork. Logan sped up, realizing it was nearly time for him to organize Ms. Kachinsky’s books. He had to finish before she left her room in the morning to teach. There was supposed to be another kid, too, so he couldn’t be late.

“Hey, Lo, where’re you going?”

“Kachinsky, remember?”

“Ohhh, yeah.”

The building was cold inside. He headed into his teacher’s room, decorated blandly with supposedly motivational posters. He’d volunteered to do this job, no one else was going to organize encyclopedias for a 70-year-old woman. He didn’t know why she even had so many.

As he walked into the half-renovated closet, he was presented with many emotions.

One, this man was munching on a sheet of paper.

Two, he was not adhering to the dress code.

Three, Logan was glad he wasn’t because a crop top and booty shorts looked damn good on him.

“Um. Hello.”

The teenager looked up, paper in hand. He stood up and tossed it in the trash, swallowing. Logan pointed slightly to the trash can.

“You were eating a piece of paper.”

“Yeah?”

“That doesn’t seem like it should be healthy.”

“I looked it up, it’s pretty much fine. Are you here to start on the books?”

Logan nodded and the two of them got to work in silence. The boy was pretty, he had a slight mustache that doesn’t work for many people, but it did for him. He looked a little like Roman, but with a broader build and stronger jaw. He was exactly the type of person that Logan would have designed as the most attractive, in his opinion, if he would have ever designed an attractive man.

“How’d you get roped into this?”

The boy turned his brown eyes to look at Logan expectantly, who wasn’t expecting any kind of interaction with him.

“I volunteered.”

“Oh, teacher’s pet?”

“She’s 70. No one else was going to help.”

“Fair. This is my substitute for detention ‘cause I have to work after school. I’m Remus.”

He stuck out his hand, which Logan took.

“Logan.”

“Oh, really? I was kinda looking into that name. One of my friends stole it, though.”

A look of confusion crossed over Logan’s face, but it disappeared as Remus held out the trans pin on his jacket. He noticed now how many pins there really were. There was the trans one, he/him, a weed symbol (however he got away with that), a skull one, an atom one, a chemistry tube, a gay flag, and various other little ones. They offered quite a bit of insight onto his personality, which seemed more and more attractive as their interaction went on.

Remus kept talking to him, which he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t have much of a personality, and what he did have, he didn’t really show. Most of his personality was just extreme emotions. He didn’t show those, either.

They did get to talking, though. Remus somehow pried out Logan’s interest in science and his plans for the future. They talked about how they’d do anything in STEM if they could. They talked about how annoying humanities majors were, and how annoying they were to humanities majors.

They finished the books, and Remus’s conversational skills got Logan to stay a tiny bit longer. Too much longer.

Before they even knew, there was a click at the door. The closet was big, so it wasn’t like they were right next to the door.

“What was that?”

Logan headed cautiously to the door and turned the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

“We’re locked in.”

Remus whispered “shit” under his breath before running to the door and banging loudly. The sound was fast and loud. They were locked in, they wouldn’t make it to class, they’d get in trouble, he’d be awful all over again-

He couldn’t breathe. He was a failure all over again. He needed to get to class, his nails dug into his skin, his razor could help now, but he was shaking now and everything was wrong and this was supposed to be a simple morning thing and he shouldn’t have stayed and he shouldn’t have liked Remus and he shouldn’t feel anything, not anger, not fear, not sadness, not love-

“Hey, hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

This is the first time you meet him and he’ll already know you’re fucked up.

Logan dodged away from him, tripping over a chair and falling on the floor. He could barely control his movements, his arms and hands wouldn’t listen to him, and he was already seeing this, he was never going to get a boyfriend or make another friend and he was dumb for thinking that. He grasped his upper arms with his hands, digging his nails into them, hoping it would help enough to stay fucking still.

“Logan, can you take my hands? If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I know we don’t know each other, I just wanna help.”

Logan tentatively reached out his hand, well aware of the indents on his arm. Remus’s hand was warm and strong, so he reached out his other hand as well. He rocked slightly, trying to steady his breathing.

“If you’re worried about getting in trouble, they can’t exactly blame us for getting trapped in a closet. It’s only one day, I’m sure it won’t hurt to miss a class or two. You can make up work and you can talk to your teachers if you’re concerned about missing important stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I’m sorry for wasting your time with that.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay.”

Logan leaned against the wall now, holding his knees. Remus slid down beside him.

Why do you feel comfortable with him?

Even from their distance, Logan could feel his presence there.

You just met him.

“Whaddya wanna do?”

“...I think I have travel checkers.”

“...Sure.”

Logan searched through his bag, pulling out a tiny box and opened it. The little magnetic pieces had to be pried off of the board and rearranged. They played probably over ten times before the game couldn’t sustain their attention any longer. Logan started trying to stack them, knowing it wouldn’t work, but hey, he was bored. Remus took the ones Logan wasn’t using to form the shape of male genitals.

“Hey, could I borrow some of yours?”

Logan wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. He pushed his pieces over to Remus and leaned back on the wall. He checked his watch. It was already an hour past the time they were supposed to be in class, and no one had come by yet. They probably weren’t going to until Ms. Kachinsky came back to get her lunch. Since her room was being renovated, she was teaching health either in other classrooms or outside if they got desperate.

Remus looked rather proud of himself when he finished his creation.

“So we’re stuck in here for another few hours, with nothing to occupy us but encyclopedias, whatever we have in our bags, and each other.”

“The things you could do to someone in here… With someone. That’s not better.”

“Who cares what anything implies at this point?”

Remus joined Logan against the wall, staring blankly with him.

“You got your phone?”

“Didn’t think I’d need it. How about you?”

“Broken. Like it usually is. At least I have a job. And a brother.”

Remus paused for a moment before speaking again.

“I suppose we’re kinda obligated to become friends. After spending so much time alone in a closet.”

“We could play a game. You do that with friends, right?”

“Never have I ever been stuck in a closet before.”

Logan held up his fingers and put one down.

“If we’re talking metaphorical closets, yeah.”

He took a moment to realize what he’d just said. He’d half-outed himself to a practical stranger. He hadn’t come out to anyone yet.

“Oh, I guess I told a lie then.”

Remus put one of his own fingers down.

“...I’ve literally never come out before. You’re the first person and I barely know you. Heh, maybe I should actually tell my brother so he starts pointing out cute guys instead of girls.”

“I’m honored. Your turn.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll go for the boring one. Never have I ever been in a relationship. Not surprised, though.”

“Can I be excused ‘cause it was a girl?”

“Fair. You go.”

“Mm… Never have I ever had a dog.”

“Really? You seem like a dog person.”

Logan put his second finger down, shifting slightly.

“Nah. My dad’s allergic. I keep trying to sneak one in anyway, but my brother always catches me. Didn’t think it’d be that hard to get him on board. He loves dogs. Side effect of being the perfect child, I guess. You don’t let yourself do what you want. My parents are good parents, they just… trust him a bit more.”

“It’s not so bad to be independent. No trans kid with transphobic parents ever chopped off their hair, or binded for the first time, or wore a wig or a dress with their parents’ permission.”

“No one ever found their passion from someone who tried to choose their path.”

“Very insightful.”

“Thank you. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

“Never have I ever worn a crop top.”

“Hey, that’s cheating. You should, though, you’d look good.”

“Would I?” Logan’s cheeks dusted slightly pink.

“Would it be weird to offer you to try mine on?”

“Probably, but I don’t think either of us are very normal. Plus, you develop a certain kind of relationship with someone you’re locked in the closet with.”

Logan’s small blush only darkened as they turned away from each other and he heard fabric moving about. Remus tossed the shirt over his shoulder, and probably blushed as Logan took his own shirt off.

Remus had buttoned his jacket to cover his chest. It didn’t completely cover it, but it didn’t matter to him all that much (Logan, however, turned red when he saw it). The shirt fit reasonably well, a little loose but it looked good nonetheless. Logan was hesitant, but Remus might have thought it looked very good according to the color of his cheeks.

“Didn’t think you could get much hotter. I was very wrong.”

Well that confirmed it.

Logan didn’t usually get flustered so much that other people could tell, but this had triggered the darkest shade of pink to cross his cheeks. Remus giggled at that, which only made them darker.

“Hah, made you blush.”

“Was that your only intention?”

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I meant it.”

“We barely even know each other.”

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to flirt?”

“Do what you want, I guess. Sure. Flirt. All laws are broken, we’re locked in a closet.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Now it’s enough.”

“Fine. Got any more ideas?”

“Search for a morsel of food in my bag, maybe.”

“I might have chips in my bag. If not, I may have to resort to cannibalism.”

“Then you wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. And didn’t you say I was hot? Pretty sure a half-eaten body won’t be as nice to look at.”

“You never know.”

Remus found a small bag of chips in his bag, opening it and handing Logan some chips. They both munched quietly until it was done, then returned to their placement on the wall.

“Oh, do you want your shirt back?”

“Not really, but I should take it. Someday when we’re not trapped in a closet I’m gonna buy you a crop top.”

They changed back into their original clothes, Remus nearly stealing a glance at Logan’s shirtless body.

“How much time do you think we’ve got left?” Remus turned his head lazily towards the other boy.

“Probably another hour or so.”

“We never finished the game, did we?”

“No. Your turn, I believe.”

“Except now we both have to put a finger down ‘cause you wore the crop top.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Hey, I put a finger down for metaphorical closets. Plus I let you wear my crop top, it’s only fair.”

“Well… I guess I have two left now.”

“Hah, three. I’m winning. Never have I ever,” Remus began, “eaten pie. It’s the one sweet thing I’ve never had. My mom tries to make it sometimes, but it always gets burnt. I’ve tried to convince them to let me eat it anyway.”

“Hm. Me neither.”

“Seriously? Hasn’t basically everyone eaten pie?”

“Too much sugar.”

“At least it’s fruit, though. I mean, you accepted the chips, those aren’t exactly healthy.”

“That’s an exception. We don’t have any other food.”

“Well, fair. Your turn.”

“Never have I ever… heh, never have I ever been happy. Shit, no, didn’t mean to say that.”

It’s not that inaccurate, though.

“Guess we’d both have to put a finger down. You’re smiling.”

“Hey, doesn’t mean I’m happy.”

“I know how smiling works. If it’s real, your eyes squint at least a little bit. Your eyes are squinting a lot. It’s cute.”

Logan accepted this and put another finger down. He hated feeling because he knew what it did to people when he did. When he was happy, he wasn’t on guard. He had to be careful about what he was doing, else he could end up being insensitive.

“Okay. If I can get one more, I win. Never have I ever been on a plane.”

“God, I wish.”

“Oh, come on. If you end up beating me, I’ll eat your homework.”

“Never have I ever had to copy someone’s homework.”

“Well I guess you managed to get both of us to one. My threat still stands. Never have I ever played piano.”

“Nope.”

“I’m gonna change that at somepoint. You’d be hot playing piano.”

Logan leaned in closer.

“Never have I ever been as pretty as you.”

“We both lose.”

“That- doesn’t even work.”

“Sure it does.”

“God, I barely know you and I’m flirting with you.”

“Like we’ve both said, locked in a closet. Who cares what we do? Honestly I’d be down to fuck if we weren’t in school.”

“We’re teenagers.”

“So? Heh, we’ve already taken our clothes off in front of each other.”

“We weren’t looking at each other.”

They heard footsteps from outside. Remus got up immediately and started knocking on the door as loudly as he could. They thankfully got closer, and they were both relieved when the doorknob turned and the classroom’s light poured in and it wasn’t just a dim lamp lighting the room. Logan felt as if he’d lost something, despite the return to class supposedly being a good thing. He felt just a little bit emptier.

“Ms. Kachinsky! I apologize, it seems as if we were accidentally locked in.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry, boys. I mean, I’m the one who locked you in here, I’m guessing. Well, you’d better get to class. I’ll send you both with a note.”

She wrote them both a note and they went on their way, no way of knowing what she’d just created.

#intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #ts remus #ts logan #sanders sides #intrulogical fic #tw self harm #tw suicidal thoughts #tw food #tw sex mention #fanfiction #ts fic #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #grays fics #whole

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Like a House of Cards Ch. 11: Opposites React

Summary: The heroes go looking for Dark and Logan’s group.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

As they stood on the street, the Anomaly that would appear in a bank vault gone from the Host’s hands, they had to recover from the power of the Anomaly coursing through them for a second time.

Chase collapsed onto his knees, feeling just a soul-deep sorrow. He was crying from memories and loss he couldn’t remember. “Fook.”[1]

“Chase?” Jackie dragged his feet over, he was feeling sluggish but it was thankfully easing from his body quickly.

“I’m fine,” Chase wiped his face with his arm. “I’m fine.”

“We can stop fer[2] a bit,” Jackie promised, helping Chase up.

“I’m grand,”[3] Chase promised.

“The Host and Chase will form one group, and Silver, Ethan, and Jackie will form the other as they try to find Dark’s group. “He asks that the heroes get their outfits back on, and for Silver and Jackie to try not to get themselves into trouble.”

“Ehh, we should be fine,” Jackie promised. “So long as Chase is gonna be okay.”

“We gotta talk anyways,” Chase nodded at the Host. “Try not ta[4] fight a hoard ‘a[5] bears.”

“No promises,” Mark smiled, and then the three of them left.

Silver, Crank, and Jackie waited in the alley for almost five minutes, getting bored. Ethan’s ADHD kicked him in the teeth before Mark’s did. Then a shootout started next to them. Several people were screaming and someone that the heroes thought looked a lot like Dark when he was pretending to be Damien. Except he wasn’t in his typical outfit, his hair was wild, and there was a streak of blue in his hair.

Ethan immediately cloaked them with his invisibility. They began to approach.

Two guys jumped on him and dragged him away. And then someone who looked almost exactly like Chase passed by the mouth of the alley.

“Don’t fookin’[6] let that arsehole[7] escape again!” Chase shouted.

The heroes got closer as the men used magic to tie “Damien” up.

He looked down at the bonds and then smiled at “Chase” which made the other man groan, “Dames, Don’t.”

“Kinky,” Dames smiled, his smile huge, leaning forward as much as the bonds would let him. “Chase. How’s life, doll?”

Chase glared at his captive before leaning in to get close to his face. “What the fook is wrong wit’ yeh?”[8]

The bound man just smiled, shrugging, “You’re going to have to be specific?”

“I meant Marvin, yeh mad fook, are yeh tryin’ ta kill my kid?”[9] Chase spat.

Dames’ only answer was, “If you wanted to get rough in bed, we’d need a bed for that.”

Chase grabbed him by the front of his shirt, “Keep yer[10] brat away from my kid, I don’t want the General killin’[11] him.”

“What’s with all this “killing” business,” Dames chuckled. “You and Gen are worried so much for your little games. They’re old enough to make all kinds of decisions.”

“Yeh taking the boys ta’a whorehouse isn’t a good choice, ya nutter,”[12] Chase spat.

“True,” Dames agreed, “they really had more fun with each other.”

“Fook this,” Jackie finally decided, as his whole body began to shake.

Silver grabbed Ethan and flew up, Ethan keeping them invisible as Jackie punched one of the thugs and then grabbed Dames, racing off with him. Silver flying in to keep up.

“What are you doing?” Silver demanded. “We’re supposed to be laying low.”

“I don’t know, I’m makin’[13] this up as I go along,” Jackie yelled, tugging Dames with them as they ran.

“What are we doing?” Dames asked. “Are we playing tag?”

“Yes!” Jackie yelled before anyone else could speak. “An’[14] Brody back there’s it.”

“Oh,” Dames said with a soft realization, then he smiled and grabbed them. “Well, we won’t win like this.”

Then they suddenly found themselves being slammed into the concrete wall of an alley, Jackie taking an especially hard hit because of his momentum.

Dames was looking them up and down as the heroes regained their composure, the corner of Dames’s mouth twitching a little bit. “You three aren’t from around here.”

“How’d yah[15] guess?” Jackie smiled as he got up, Silver floating before he was able to stand.

“Silly cheaters,” Dames laughed. “Couldn’t win your own game so you jumped to a new board.”

“It is so weird seeing you like this” Silver set his feet on the ground.

Dames shrugged, and then a portal began to twist open. It wasn’t quite like Dark’s dark purple-black Void magic. It was a deep red-magenta that felt more like hands ripping their way free.

Ethan tried to shield them but Dames couldn’t be cloned and excitedly stepped free to meet the man who stepped out of the portal. He had a sharp black suit and a bushy black mustache. A red and magenta aura coming off of him like Dark’s red and blue aura. He had dark red and magenta after images that echoed and stuttered off of him.

“Gen,” Dames smiled excitedly, holding his arms out.

“Where’s Junior?” Gen asked.

“I don’t know,” Dames denied, his good mood quickly starting to evaporate. “Ask your little trackers you put on them.”

General glared at Dames, “What were you two doing?”

“Nothing,” Dames almost giggled.

Dark’s glare became more baleful and he grabbed Dames by the front of his jacket, Dames giggling in response. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dames. Did you let Bim go off with that hooligan?”

“Mayhaps,” Dames’s smile became almost giddy.

“Dames!” the General pinned him against the closest wall. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did,” Gen spat. “You can waste your time at brothels and clubs all you want, but you leave Junior out of it.”

Dames began giggling, “You have to admit, yours and Chase’s faces when you saw they were gone was pretty hilarious.”

“This isn’t funny!” the Entity snarled. “Bim is impressionable, no thanks to you. It burned down with them still in it!”

“At least I show him how to have a good time,” Dames dared. “You’d have him at a desk working papers until he died. He’s a kid.”

“Not anymore,” the General warned. “He stopped being a child when he turned sixteen. They all did.”

Dames rolled his eyes, “Ughh.”

The General stepped closer, “You cannot insist on treating them all like children, they are not.”

“Only because you wanted them to grow up, they never got to be children in the first place,” Dames argued back.

“You’re absolutely insufferable,” the Entity scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Why is being alive and safe so unfavorable to you.”

“You’d have him die in an office,” Dames spat.

“No I’d have him alive doing something,” the demon spat. “You insist on treating all of them like children. They are not, nor have they been for years.”

“I want my babies back,” Dames looked away, clearly upset. “What was so wrong with them being my babies? You said I could keep them.”

“They are safe, that should be enough. Do I make myself clear, Doomstrum?” Gen spat, his aura coiling just a hair too tight around the mad mayor.

Dames struggled in his hold for a bit before stopping, clearly refusing to look at or answer him.

Mark would have forced himself out of Ethan’s invisibility bubble, but the hero watched the demon’s expression soften for a couple seconds and then sighed before opening up a massive portal to show a relatively spartan office except for a very nice looking desk and a couch that looked extremely comfortable to sleep on. He let Dames go. “Let’s go Dames.”

The madman frowned and took a step before turning around, a smile spreading on his face again, “Oh, Gen, I have to introduce you to my new friends.”

“Your what?” The demon growled in frustration.

“Yeah they’re just,” Dames began, pointing to the three heroes at the end of the alley right before a portal ripped open behind them and a dark purple aura pulled them in and swiftly closed before the General or Dames could really react in more than surprise.

The three heroes landed on their backs around Dark’s feet in a dimly lit room.

“There we go, problem solved,” Dark announced.

“How does this solve our problems, you’ve led him straight to us!”

Jackie looked up in confusion, Virgil didn’t come with us?

When he looked up at Virgil however he was in a huge dark grey-black overcoat. His hair was different, but the eyeshadow still darkened his face.

Dark brought his aura up in time as a red-magenta magic tried to get into the room. He threw his aura against it and it was gone. “Nonsense, I can cloak areas to keep

magic from getting in.”

“Andy,” someone in a black beanie insisted, tugging on “Virgil’s” coat. The Side had some vitiligo marks on his face and hands, his eyes a deep golden yellow.

“Dee, not now,” Andy hissed.

“But they’re telling the—” Dee tried to report, before he was protectively pushed behind Andy.

“No,” Andy nudged his companions back and pointed to Dark. “I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t trust you,” he pointed to Wilford.

“And I sure as shit don’t trust you,” Andy spat at the Host. His voice was practically dripping with contempt.

“All we need to get to the next rift and we’re gone,” Dark scoffed. “We don’t need your trust.”

“So what’s the actual plan for getting home?” Silver asked the Host. “Seems like they’ve got a lot to deal with right now.”

“Simple we go into what is probably a horribly designed version of my office, and activate the Anomaly so it takes us home.” Dark dusted off his suit with his aura. “The plan’s already been made if you want to talk to the others.”

The Host dispelled an illusion and they saw the three Sides talking to Glitch Logan, and J.J peacefully napping in the corner. There was no sign of his double anywhere.

“I will have everything under control,” Logan spat at his doppelgänger.

“I don’t need to be reassured of anything,” Glitch Logan dismissed. “I have made redundancies and failsafes to ensure they do not die. If I was not certain, I would have raised my complaints. You will protect them, that is the only objective I need to give. If you work with the heroes, or with Google, I care not. Roman, Virgil, and Patton’s survival is all I care about. We spent a year’s worth of time working for it and I have come too far to fail now.”

“I will do so without needless killing” Logan promised.

Glitch Logan gave an inhuman smile, “We shall see, either way it’s inconsequential to me.”

The Anomaly glowed and it engulfed the two Logans completely before just Logan was standing there. He gave a shudder and a bunch of nanites fell to the ground around him, twitching once and then going offline, their components frying themselves so they couldn’t be used by anyone else.

Logan stiffened and Roman raced in to catch him.

“Lo, sweetheart?” Roman pleaded desperately as Logan blinked and coughed as air returned to his lungs.

The Host used a couple words from his narrations and the nanites were all gone from the floor.

Janus briefly checked on Logan before clearing his throat and drawing attention to himself, summoning his staff.

“The Host allowed us to speak with the other Sides, we got but a minute but we’ve come up with a plan,” Janus reported. “There is one fusion we have that enables us to make as much noise and commotion as possible, while showing that we are different people. I have spoken with this world’s Deceit and they cannot fuse—”

“Please don’t call me that, that’s not all I do,” Dee asked.

Janus paused, looking at Dee, “Of course do you have a preference?”

Andy was just watching Janus, staring at him.

“Dee,” Dee told him.

“Alright,” Janus agreed. “Anyways, I have spoken with Dee and they can’t fuse so it will be the easiest way to get the message across.”

“So we’re gonna use Remy?” Jackie asked.

“No,” Logan cut in. “Even before the merge I was not in the right emotional or mental mindset to fuse. My fusions are impossible without that mindset. My future self hinted the feeling would get worse and unfortunately he was right.”

“Okay, you’ve never exactly told us how fusion works,” Ethan reminded. “But I’m guessing that I’m gonna take a group in?”

“The heroes will not need to cause a distraction because the fusion will be enough to convince the General that they are different. Besides, the General will wish to speak to the Entity.”

“Will he?” Dark asked. “Last time he saw me he tried to take my head off.”

“Maybe we should talk to him,” Wilford smiled. “We never gave them a chance.”

“It is so weird seeing him in pink,” Andy commented.

“Why, what’s wrong with it?” Wil frowned. “Pink is a lovely color.”

“Nothing wrong with it, it’s just you’d rather set yourself on fire than wear pink,” Andy explained.

“No I wouldn’t, I’m wearing pink right now,” Wil gestured to himself.

Dark rubbed at the bridge of his nose, “This is going to take forever now.”

“No, I meant the other you, the douchebag in Armani,” Andy explained.

“Well then he should wear pink too,” Wil decided.

Andy let out a snorting chuckle, “Oh, trust me everyone in this city would love to see that.”

The group started to plan a bit so that Silver and Jackie knew what they were doing, and during that time, Janus leaned over to Roman.

“This means nothing, I’d rather Remus was here,” Janus told Roman.

“Well I'd rather Patton was here,” Roman agreed, emotions still running high from the mess with the doppelgängers.

“Good,” Janus spat.

“Good,” Roman glared at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. Fuck

2. for

3. I’m alright

4. to

5. of

6. fucking

7. asshole

8. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

9. I meant Marvin, you crazy fucker, are you trying to kill my kid?

10. your

11. killing

12. You taking the boys to a whorehouse isn’t a good choice, you nutter

13. making

14. And

15. you

2 notes · View notes

sagesparrow394 · 4 years

Text

Nerdiness

Fandoms: Sanders Sides, Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Logan, Patton, Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, Valentino

Relationship(s): Moxiety

Summary: Hazbin Hotel AU. Go here if you want a preface of who’s who and see the character designs

When there’s a surprise guest at the hotel, Patton gets all hands on deck to make sure the guest gets a proper welcome. However, things get put on pause after he heads to Logan’s room and finds something out about their spidery friend.

Trigger Warning: themes of sexual assault and abuse

—————

It had been a very normal, very quiet day at the hotel. Emile was running around the lobby, dusting and cleaning the cobwebs that had been woven by spiders overnight. Janus was drinking cheap wine behind the bar, though insisting, “It’s soup. It’s too early for alcohol.” Roman was wandering around absentmindedly, checking on things and occasionally picking on Virgil, who was in charge at the time as Patton was out, pinning up posters anywhere he could to advertise the hotel.

And, though it seemed to everyone else that these posters would be a lost cause, given how most demons had initially reacted to the idea of the hotel, they apparently weren’t.

For, at around midday, the front door opened. And in stepped a demon.

He was a bat demon, wings folded behind his back, and two black bat ears poking out of his hair. He wore a black jacket, white shirt, and black skinny jeans. He was texting on his phone as he stepped in, one of Patton’s posters in his other hand.

“Hey, babes, this is the ‘Happy Hotel’, right? I wasn’t too sure, since the sign says ‘Hazbin’. Might wanna update the flyers.”

Virgil looked up from where he had been sitting on the couch, eyes widening. He went to get to his feet and welcome the demon, but before he could, Roman was already welcoming them in

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I’m Roman, I run this fine establishment.”

The bat demon raised his eyebrow. “I thought that Lucifer’s son did?” He paused. “Wait, Roman? The Radio Demon?”

“I work with Patton! He owns it, but I’m helping him run it. And so is that boyfriend of his, I guess...”

Virgil rolled his eyes, going over to the bat demon. “Sorry about him. Just come on over to the reception and we can check you into a room, Mr...?”

“Just call me Remy, babes.”

Virgil led Remy over to the counter, where Janus pulled out the guest book, blowing the dust off of it. He opened it to the first page, where there was only a single line filled in: ‘Logan “Angel Dust”.’

“Angel Dust’s still living here, huh? Thought you’d have kicked him out after the whole turf war thing,” Remy said.

Virgil sighed. “Trust me, I wanted to. But Patton insisted he deserved another chance.”

“Yep, I did! And I think it was a good idea. I mean, he hasn’t joined any turf wars since then, has he?” Patton was standing in the doorway.

“He’s still an addict and offering his usual ‘services’. Remember he invited us to his strip show a week or so back? Still a sex worker,” Virgil shrugged.

“Come on, now, this is a sex worker positive environment!” Patton said, wandering over. “And the whole point of this hotel is to help people who are sinning, not kick them out for sinning. I’m sure, with our help, he’ll make progress and be clean from drugs in no time!”

Janus scoffed. “His stage name is literally the drug he’s addicted to. I doubt it’ll be that easy. Plus, just because you’re sex worker positive doesn’t mean those guys up in Heaven are.”

“Well... we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Anyway... who is this?!” Patton turned to Remy, grinning from ear to ear.

“Remy. Nice to meet ya, gurl.”

“You too! Oh, you’re going to love it here! Now, I’ll show you to your room-“

“Actually, think I wanna get a tour first, see what facilities and stuff you got here. Plus, I’d quite like to meet Angel, I’m a bit of a fan of his.”

“Oh, sure! In that case, I’ll go get him. Verge, Ro, while I’m gone, why don’t you show Remy around?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Um, I think it’s better I go with you, Pat-“

“Sounds wonderful!” Roman grinned. “Come on, we must get going, there’s so much to see!”

And with that, Virgil found himself being pulled away by Roman, Remy following behind. Patton smiled as he watched them go, before turning and heading to the elevators. He headed up to the floor Logan’s room was on, before heading down the corridor to the room.

When he arrived, he knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a response, immediately opening it.

“Logan, you’ll never believe this, but we have another guest! It’s so exciting! And they want to meet you, so let’s head down... stairs...” Patton trailed off, blinking in disbelief.

Logan was sat on his bed, Fat Nuggets curled up to his side. However, the thing that caused Patton to be surprised was what Logan was wearing and what he was doing.

He was wearing glasses, which wasn’t new. When he first moved into the hotel, he’d explained he mostly wore contacts, but would trade them for his glasses in the privacy of the hotel as they were more comfortable. Along with the glasses, though, he was wearing a baggy sweater and jeans - a far cry from his usual tight suit that showed off his body.

And he was reading. A very thick book, and by the looks of the cover, a scientific one. In fact, there was a cardboard box on the floor beside his bed that was filled with books and... academic papers?

Logan looked between Patton, and the book in his hands. “Uhh... It isn’t what it looks like. Books... get me hard? This is all for sexual purposes?”

“Logan...” Patton spoke slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Are you... a secret nerd?”

Logan sighed. “... I’m not gonna be able to get out of this am I? Fine. Yes. I admit it. I am a nerd. I like astronomy and science and math and all that shit. But you can’t tell anyone, okay? This stays between us, no one can know.”

Patton’s smile fell. “Why not?” He came over and sat on Logan’s bed. “You shouldn’t hide your passions and the things you enjoy. You should express yourself and embrace them!”

Logan scoffed, folding his arms. “In case you’re forgetting, I have a reputation to maintain. I’m seductive, alluring and sexy as all hell. ‘Nerd’ doesn’t exactly go along with that. People won’t exactly want to accept my services if they think I’m just gonna ramble about quantam mechanics for the whole time. And not just because they’d think I’m boring and lame. It’s what Val told me: I’m already hotter than others. People feel like shit if they think you’re both hotter and smarter than them. If it gets out I’m smarter than the average demon, people won’t pay to be around me because I make them feel bad about themselves. So, it’s much more profitable to just play dumb all the time, as then they think they have at least one thing up on me.”

“So... to get work... you need people to see you as lesser than them?”

Logan shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much. That’s how demons are.”

Patton frowned. “That isn’t fair at all! You shouldn’t have to be forced to hide part of yourself. And even if you weren’t smart, that fact shouldn’t make you lesser than others.”

“Eh, I do what I have to. And I still get to enjoy my nerd shit in private. It’s not too bad.”

“It is, Logan. It really is. You shouldn’t have to live a lie like that.”

“Well, I do, and there’s nothing you or I can do about it, okay?” Logan snapped. “If I were open with this shit and Val found out, he’d-!” He paused. He took a deep breath. “Just go, Patton. And don’t tell anyone about any of this.”

“But-“

“I said go.”

Patton sighed. He reached over and gave Logan a comforting pat on the shoulder, the other flinching. Then, he turned and headed to the door. He gave Logan a comforting smile, before gently closing the door behind him.

Logan sighed, gently hugging Fat Nuggets. His eyes drifted to the mirror. As he watched, someone appeared behind him in his reflection.

In the reflection, Valentino slipped one hand up Logan’s sweater and the other into his pants. Logan tensed, trying to remind himself this wasn’t real. Just a hallucination.

“Angel... what did I say about these kind of things?” Valentino smirked, looking down at the reflection of the box of books and papers.

Logan didn’t respond, just hugging Fat Nuggets closer in an effort to comfort himself.

In the reflection, Valentino slid his hand further up Logan’s sweater until it came out the other end and gripped around Logan’s neck. “I don’t like you thinking you’re better than me... Your intelligence doesn’t mean shit, especially in our industry. Give. It. Up.”

Logan shook his head, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his reflection was normal again. Valentino was absent from it.

Logan sighed again, leaning back on his pillow as Fat Nuggets licked his cheek. After a moment, he pulled out his phone.

Logan: Meet me at the drug vending machine outside the store. I need some fun to distract me.

Remus: You got it, Lo!

Remus: But won’t those hotel guys be mad at you? They weren’t exactly happy last time we went out and tore shit up together.

Logan: I really don’t care right now. I just need some fun. See you in ten?

Remus: Fuck yeah!!!

Logan pocketed his phone, before getting to his feet. He put the book he’d been reading back in the box, which he then took to his closet. Once it was hidden away, he took off his clothes and replaced them with his usual blue and white striped suit. Then he went over to his dresser, taking off his glasses and putting them away, and then placing in his contacts.

Once he was all changed, he picked up Fat Nuggets. “Let’s see if Janus will look after you again while I’m out.” And with that, he left the room, heading to the elevators and down to the lobby.

In the lobby, Roman and Virgil had just finished giving Remy the tour and returned. Patton happily welcomed them back.

“So, what do you think?”

Remy nodded. “Pretty nice place you got. Being ‘redeemed’ seems like a pretty good bargain to live here. Feels like I should be paying hundreds.”

Patton smiled. “I’m glad you like it! Now, um, about meeting Logan, that’ll probably have to wait. He’s, uh, dealing with some stuff right now.”

“Are you sure about that?” Roman asked. “He’s right over there!”

Patton turned around and, as Roman had said, Logan was there, stepping from the elevator.

“Oh, Logan! Why don’t you come and meet our new guest! Apparently they’re a fan of yours!”

“Sorry, but it’ll have to wait. I’ve got somewhere to be.” Logan headed over to the front desk. He leant against it, giving Janus a wink. “Think you can look after Nugs for me again?”

Janus groaned. “I’m not looking after that fucking pig agai-“

“You will? That’s great! Here you go, make sure he’s treated well. Daddy’ll see you later, Nugs.” Logan handed the pig over to Janus, before turning away and heading to the door.

“Where are you going?” Virgil asked, folding his arms.

“If you must know, I’m meeting up with Remus.”

“Remus?! The guy who dragged you into the turf war that ruined our reputation the last time you hung out?! No way in hell are you meeting up with him!”

Logan huffed, turning back to the others. “Two things. One: he didn’t drag me into it. I joined willingly to pay him back for helping me out. And two: that wasn’t the last time we hung out. Remember that time last week I invited you guys to my show and literally all of you no showed? Remus came round after, and he and I hung out for a bit. It was perfectly calm, no destruction.”

Patton raised an eyebrow. “He came here? How come none of us saw him come in?”

“He climbed through my window. Now, I’m not letting you guys stop me from seeing my best friend. You don’t have the right to. So, I’m heading off.” And with that, Logan turned and left the building, the door slamming behind him.

“He’s in a good mood...” Janus muttered, setting Fat Nuggets down on the counter and opening a bag of chips for him to munch on.

“That might be my fault...” Patton chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “I walked into his room before he said I could come in, and found something out that he’d wanted to keep secret.”

“He has secrets?” Virgil asked.

Patton nodded, before whispering. “He’s a super smart nerd.”

Janus scoffed. “Logan? Smart? No way.”

“He is!” Patton nodded. “He was reading a sciency book, and owns a bunch of academic papers to read for fun. And we only have those in hell to act as torture devices! He just hides it because he thinks it’ll ruin his business if people think he’s a nerd. Y’know, since nerds aren’t ‘sexy’. I tried to tell him he should embrace who he is, but he wouldn’t have it.”

Virgil shrugged. “Well, what do you expect? I think we all know he’s stubborn as hell. C’mon, lets go show Remy to his room. We’ll deal with Logan when he gets back.”

Patton nodded. “Okay... Well, Remy, it’s this way! Come on!”

“-and of course there’s a phone here for room service! You can decorate however you want, as well! So... what do you think?”

Remy nodded, sitting on the bed. “It’s perfect, babes. Thanks a ton.”

“No problem!” Patton smiled. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.”

“Will do,” Remy said as he pulled out his phone as it buzzed. He chuckled. “Looks like Angel Dust - or, I guess Logan, since you all seem to call him that - is having some fun.”

He held up his phone for Patton and Virgil to see, the former sighing and the latter groaning.

On the screen, Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench were discussing a series of destruction and explosions that was going on across the pentagram. And the footage from the scene clearly showed the ones behind it were Logan and Remus.

“Well... at least it’s not technically another turf war?” Patton shrugged as Virgil held his face in his hands.

“We’re ruined....”

“No, we’re not. It’s gonna be okay. Remember, Verge, we have Remy here too, and I’m sure more guests will follow. And it’s not totally Logan’s fault. I’m probably the one who made him upset to the point he decided this was the only way to get his feelings out. In the future, I’ll wait until he says ‘come in’.”

“That may be true, but it doesn’t change the fact he needs a healthier coping mechanism that doesn’t involve blowing up the whole city.” Virgil sighed. “And all this because he doesn’t like the fact people know he’s a nerd...”

“So, why’d you want to come wreak some havoc?!” Remus called as threw a molotov at the building across from the one he and Logan were currently standing on the roof of.

“Patton walked in on me reading,” Logan explained, throwing a bomb at a store a couple of buildings down. “He knows I’m a secret smarty pants. He promised me he wouldn’t tell anyone, but I really doubt he’ll keep that promise. Knowing him he’ll accidentally let it slip. He’s probably already told his boyfriend. I just wanna make it clear, in case it does get out, that me being a nerd doesn’t make me any less of a force to be reckoned with. Oh, also, you mind taking some pictures of me for Insta? Also gotta make it clear being a nerd doesn’t change the fact I still look flawless.”

Remus laughed, pulling out his phone. “No problem. Don’t worry, Lo, if I hear anyone talk shit about you, I’ll make sure everything they own gets blown to smithereens!”

“Thanks, babe.”

“No problem. Anything for my best friend. Now, lets go! We got more places to destroy!”

And with that, the two of them ran off, jumping from building to building, and tossing bombs everywhere they went and Remus occasionally snapping photos. And Logan made sure to ignore his phone ringing in his pocket.

23 notes · View notes

amintyworld · 4 years

Text

Overgrowth - Miracle Miraculous AU

A/N: HERE IT IS!!! I’ve been working on this for a while, and I can’t wait to share it with you all. Combining two of my favorite fandoms - It’s been honestly such a passion project, and I’m so happy with how it turned out. Note that Ladybug is Luckybug in this universe. - Minty

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day in Paris, and it turns into more of a Valentine’s mess than anyone expected. When a confession goes wrong, Thomas turns into Overgrowth, bent on getting revenge for his heartbreak by taking away everything the people of Paris love, and teaching the heartbreaker a lesson he’ll never forget.

Ships: Prinxiety, Logicality, Thomas x Samuel.

TW: Homophobia, pain, anxiety/panic, heartbreak, self-blame, implied mention of murder, cursing. (I think that’s everything, tell me if I missed any, as always!)

Roman Agreste slumped on his bed after he swiftly closed his door to his massive bedroom. Today was Valentine’s Day, and he couldn’t stop thinking of his Prince - Luckybug. God, he was so smart and so beautiful. He’d had fun at school, of course - Chloe had crooned over him, giving him gifts and presents throughout the day, and kissing his cheek obsessively. His friend, Logan, had finally pulled her away from him, the only one who really knew who he really was.

Like anyone would accept that the son of Gabriel Agreste, the world-famous fashion designer, was gay.

Just today, Logan had pinched him when he almost slipped how he was into guys as he was talking to his friends about his crushes. Without him, he probably would have revealed his secret by accident long ago.

But, his best friend didn’t exactly know all his secrets.

He sighed, groaning into his pillow, as his kwami, Plagg, flew out from the hiding place in his school bag. “Kid, you really need to be more honest with yourself.” He said, gnawing on a piece of his treasured camembert.

Roman groaned in his pillow in response, looking at his college of Luckybug in his pinboard next to his computer. He was so perfect - rugged purple locks, and focused determined green eyes…

No picture could capture the way the wind ruffled through his hair just perfectly, or the way the city lights made his green eyes sparkle like emeralds. He huffed in disapproval as he walked over to his television. His mind was filled to the brim with his Prince, and it was overwhelming.

He needed a distraction.

He flipped on the TV as Plagg perched himself on the top of the couch, looking at his dejected master and giving a sigh. “Hang in there, Kid.”

————————————————-

Virgil’s ears filled with My Chemical Romance as he sewed, focused on his task - Mr. Agreste had commissioned him to make Roman’s frivolous costumes for his performances. He had told him that the hat he made, the winner of his contest earlier in the year, was more of his son’s style. He couldn’t be bothered with making any designs that weren’t being professionally modeled and gave the job to Virgil instead.

He insisted Roman’s performances were more of a hobby. Virgil was just happy to help his crush, and the smiles brought to Roman’s face was really all the payment he needed.

Roman’s theatre group was performing Romeo and Juliet this weekend and needed the costumes soon for the dress rehearsal on Friday. Virgil was nearly finished - he just needed to add the details on the two main pieces.

He sighed as he sat up and walked to grab more thread and pins, looking over toward the dejected cookie tin on his desk. His best friend Patton had pushed him to make the heart-shaped treats days earlier - Virgil had made sure that they were chocolate chips with no nuts, as Roman had a nut allergy. Patton had even brought the tin just for the occasion.

But, when he was at school…

“Oh my god, look at this Sabrina!” Chloe yelled as Virgil quickly hid the cookie tin behind his back. “Virgil Dupain-Cheng, with sweets for Valentine’s Day for my Romiekins!”

A small crowd began to gather behind Chloe, Roman well out of earshot. Patton stepped in between the two, angry. “Back off, Chloe.”

“What, Patton? I just think it’s cute. Adorable, really.” Chloe had a glint of evil in her eyes as she smiled. “I mean, it’s just so clear that Roman isn’t gay, but I guess that doesn’t mean his fans aren’t!”

Chloe and Sabrina laughed, as the crowd all looked to Virgil, as he kept walking backward with the tin behind his back, his face red in embarrassment as he just looked to the floor. Usually, Chloe’s insults never really got him this deep, but… this one hurt, mostly because it’s always been one of Virgil’s insecurities - his sexuality.

Patton had tried to talk him into giving Roman the treats, but he just couldn’t. He’d just went home without another word.

Virgil’s kwami, Tikki, had noticed her master’s solemn expression and flew to his side. “Cheer up, Virgil. I’m sure Roman would have enjoyed the cookies!”

Virgil sighed. “It’s not that Tikki, I know he would’ve enjoyed them. I just-” He looked over to the tin. “I don’t know if he would have enjoyed that they were made… by me.”

“Virgil, any guy who enjoys the gifts and not the people behind them are not worth your time,” Tikki said, flying closer to her master’s face. “Even Roman.”

“Roman…” Virgil breathed, looking down at the white thread and small box of pins in his hand. Roman who had given him an umbrella in the soaking rain. Roman, who had always told him his designs were amazing. Roman, who was smart and kind to everyone.

Roman Agreste.

Somehow, Virgil knew in his heart that even if he didn’t feel the same, he’d never stop loving him. Even if… that meant he was out of the picture.

——————————————

Thomas sighed as he tried to take deep breaths, his face flushed, as he walked toward his crush, who he’d asked to meet at the bridge. Samuel was one of his best friends in the entire world, and Thomas had been crushing on him since grade school. Joan had told him to go for it today, giving him a much-needed boost of confidence to finally go through with it.

He hid the bouquet of roses behind his back as he tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, Samuel?”

“Thomas, it’s so great to see you!” Samuel hugged Thomas tightly, his smile bright. “Thanks so much for inviting me to hang out, I really needed your advice.”

“R-really?” Thomas almost squeaked, his face getting redder by the minute. He clenched the bundle of roses tighter behind his back.

“Yeah. You’re a really good friend, and I’d trust you with anything…”

“Of course, what did you… Ehem, need advice on?” Thomas said, trying to keep calm.

“Well you see, there’s a girl, and-”

Thomas’s grip on the roses tightened. “I…I’m s-sorry, what…?”

“There’s a girl I’ve been dying to ask out, and I don’t really know how to ask, and I figured since you hang around the girls a lot, you might be able to give me a few-”

“Sam, I… I like you.”

Now it was his friend’s turn to be surprised. “What?”

Thomas pulled the bundle of roses from behind his back, turning to his crush. “Samuel, I really, really, really like you. I’ve liked you since forever, and I never really found the right time to tell you, and-”

Samuel’s mouth was agape, and he just looked from the roses to Thomas. “T-Thomas?” He said, beginning to step away. “Thomas, I… I’m sorry, but… but I-”

Oh.

Thomas could feel his heart breaking inside his chest, but he tried to stay strong.

“No, no it’s fine.” A tear streaked down Thomas’s cheek as he gave his friend a pained smile. “It’s fine, Samuel.” Another tear, and another. He looked up to see his friend’s face lined with pity, and he couldn’t take it anymore. “Excuse me, I just… need a minute-”

One moment he was walking, the next running. Running somewhere he didn’t know as his eyes were blurred with tears.

A poor tortured soul who wanted nothing but to tell the one he loved his feelings and was met with utter heartbreak. Love is not always so easy, I’m afraid…

Fly away, my little akuma, and ease his broken heart!

As the black butterfly flew into one of the roses, Thomas’s eyes were lit up with a butterfly screen. Up in his tower, Hawkmoth smiled. “Overgrowth, my name is Hawkmoth. I’m giving you the power to bend all plant life to your will and make sure the ones who have wronged you pay the price. In return, you must give me Luckybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.” The villain smirked. “Do we have a deal?”

Thomas dried his tears as he smirked. “If I can’t love, no one will.”

—————————————

“Ughhh!” Plagg groaned. “Can’t we watch the cooking channel?! These dramas are so boring!”

Roman sighed as he switched through a few different channels, his head snapping to attention when he flipped on the News.

“-local police are baffled today as plant life all around Paris has begun to move on its own, we’re going live on the scene with-!”

The camera suddenly is grabbed and pulled upward, revealing a familiar face to Roman as he quickly stood up from the couch. “Wait… is that Thomas?”

Thomas’s eyes were pitch black as vines and roses wrapped around his body with pitch black thorns. Roman was confused - Thomas was one of the sweetest guys he knew, there was no way he would get akumatized.

Thomas grinned into the camera as Roman could hear people crying out below. “People of Paris, I am Overgrowth. Within the next five hours, your city will belong to me, and me alone, unless your heroes can somehow magically save you, everything you love, everyone you love - will be mine.”

The feed had stopped abruptly, leaving the newswoman in a bit of a shock. She cleared her throat. “It seems as a new supervillain, Overgrowth, has taken over the city! Hopefully Chat Noir and Luckybug will be here to save us from doom!”

Roman sighed sadly. Poor Thomas. Something must’ve messed him up pretty bad to make him like this. “Plagg, we need to go. Thomas needs me.”

“Why do we always have akumas to fight when I’m enjoying my sweet camembert?” Plagg questioned, swallowing it whole. Roman laughed, smiling, before turning to the door. Plagg always knew how to make him feel better, even if for a few, brief, moments.

“Let’s go. Plagg, claws out!”

——————————

Virgil’s seen many weird things in his life - ice cream akumas, baby akumas, you name it. But, he’s never seen anything this weird.

One moment, he was adding the finishing touches on the costume dress, the next - there’s a giant leaf in his face. “Huh? What the-?”

He pulled off his headphones, leaving the dress on his bed as he walked outside to the balcony, following the trail of vine with black thorns. Virgil’s eyes widened as he noticed the thorns in every house and apartment, wrapping around pipes, inside windows and chimneys - all with those signature black thorns. “Woah.”

His pocket vibrated as he answered the call, turning back inside to find Tikki - he knew it had to be an akuma. Chat could only do so much on his own - he needed to move. “Virgil, thank god you picked up, I’ve been trying your cell for hours!”

“Patton, I- I’m sorry. My phone was on silent. What’s going on?” He began to search around his room, no Tikki in sight. That was strange. Wait… another vine, leading towards the ladder…

“There’s another supervillain, Virge! He’s controlling all the plants somehow. This is finally my chance, the chance I’ve been waiting for!”

“Chance?”

“Luckybug and Chat Noir are going to show up - Prime material for the Luckyblog!” Patton said. “Maybe I’ll even catch an interview with them, the villain’s heading downtown after all.”

Virgil froze in his tracks, Patton’s squeals of delight on the other line echoing in the back of his head. The vine with the black thorns had grabbed Tikki, coiling around her like a snake. She looked weak, and in pain.

“V-virgil…”

No. This wasn’t like any other akuma Virgil has ever faced. Patton can NOT go near it. The thought of his best friend, wrapped in the coils, being stabbed by the thorns…

“Vir-gil… help…”

He spoke softly and firmly. “Patton, you need to find somewhere to hide.”

“What? Come on, Virge-!”

“Patton. Please. Just… stay away from the vines, promise me.”

“Vir-”

“Promise me!” Virgil snapped, grabbing the scissors from his room to use to cut the vine. Patton sounded concerned as he began to cut, freeing Tikki as she fell into his palm, weakened.

“Virgil, are you alright, kiddo? You sound a bit panicky, is everything okay?” Patton’s voice was filled with warmth. “I… I can come over, if-”

“No, no I promise I’m fine, I just-” Virgil said, taking a deep breath. “Just stay away from the vines, okay? They… they’re unsafe.” He quickly hung up, worried more so focused on the small fragile kwami in his palm, and what exactly happened to her.

“Tikki! Tikki, are you alright?” Virgil said. The kwami coughed in response, flying a bit.

“I’m fine, I just need a little water.”

Virgil poured a small cup into the cap of his thermos for Tikki to drink, and Tikki took a few gulps and a cookie. “What exactly happened?”

“The thorns are filled with dark energy - pure negative energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Tikki said as she chewed. “We kawmis are made of pure positive energy, I guess it just deflated me a little bit there.”

“Thank goodness. I wouldn’t know what I’d do with you, Tikki.” Virgil said, as the small kwami had given him a small hug.

"We need to be careful, Virgil.” Tikki said. “This akuma might be the strongest one we’ve faced.”

Virgil gave a smile. “When am I not careful?”

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ground shook with each step as Virgil saw someone, two thick thorny vines sprouting from their back, the vines plunging into the ground like legs as the akumatized person ran past Virgil’s house. Virgil smiled. “Look at that, Tikki. They lead themselves straight to us.” Virgil flicked his hair back to reveal his earrings. “Tikki, spots on!”

———————–

“Get off me you alley cat!” Overgrowth growled as Chat Noir’s claws dug deep into the thick vine on his back as Overgrowth thrashed this way and that, trying desperately to get cat-free.

“I don’t think so-!” Chat Noir said. “Now, would you kindly show me where your akuma is, so we can get this over with quickly?”

Overgrowth held out his open hand, summoning a black rose. “Get.. OFF!” He yelled, throwing it back in Chat’s face, sending him flying toward the ground, as his costume flicked off and on for a quick second.

“Huh?!” Chat asked, confused. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Was something wrong with his miraculous? His kawami? His ears were ringing and his head hurt. He couldn’t move.

Overgrowth looked more than annoyed at this development. “One wasn’t enough for you?” He said, summoning a few more black rose darts, making the rose vines wrapped around his body glow slightly. “How about a few more?!” He yelled, throwing a barrage toward a helpless Chat.

Luckybug quickly jumped in front, swinging his yo-yo, blocking the attacks. “Not today, no thank you!”

“My prince, you finally joined the party!” Chat Noir said, getting up and readying his silver pole as Overgrowth moved to the side to try to attack the two superheroes. Chat began to spin the pole quickly, blocking the attacks with ease, smiling.

“As if I’d let you have all the fun, Kitty.” Luckybug smiled. “Any idea where the akuma might be?”

“Checked everywhere. I have no clue.”

“Dammit. For once, I’d thought we’d have it easy.” Luckybug huffed.

Overgrowth growled in defeat. “No need for you two, anyway. I have someone I’m dying to go meet up with…you two have fun.”

“Wait-!” Luckybug yelled, but he was already gone. “Dammit.”

“So, any idea where Poison Ivy might’ve gone?” Chat asked. “I can’t imagine there’s much wildlife in Paris, and I doubt Scarezilla wants to go to the Zoo.”

“Luckybug! Chat Noir!"

The two heroes turned their attention to a teenager with an orange beanie running toward them, waving their arms like crazy - Joan, one of Thomas’s best friends. "You- You gotta help Thomas! He’s a twat sometimes but he’s not a supervillain. You gotta get him back!”

“We will. We promise.” Luckybug said, placing his hand on Joan’s shoulder to steady them. “Do you know where he might’ve gone?”

“If he’s mad right now, he’s probably heading to Samuel’s house.” Joan said. The two heroes shared a glance.

“Samuel?” Chat asked.

“Yeah, Thomas has had a crush on him since forever. He rejected him when I told him to go for it, he’s akumatized because of me, you gotta help him-”

“We promise we will. Thank you so much for the help.” Luckybug turned to Chat. “Come on, we gotta go-” Luckybug used his yo-yo to jump from building to building, leaving only Chat behind.

Chat turned to the kid. “This isn’t your fault, I promise. If anything, it’s Hawkmoths. Go find a place to hide, we’ll get your friend back soon.” He turned, using his pole to propel him into the air, catching up with his prince.

Talyn rushed over to Joan. “Don’t run off like that again, Joan! You made me worried!”

“Talyn, Thomas is akumatized and it’s all my fault, I need to fix this! If I hadn’t told him-” Joan said, clenching their fists at their sides. Talyn interrupted quickly.

“Joan, you can’t blame yourself, you didn’t make him like this!” They said. “Come on, we need to stay with the others, we’ll be safe-” Talyn slowly reached for Joan’s arm, but they jerked away. “Joan…?”

“I need to fix this, Talyn.” Joan said. “He’s my best friend."

"Joan, what are you…?”

“I’m sorry, Talyn!” Joan said, sprinting over to Talyn’s scooter and chasing after the heroes.

“Mother-!” Talyn sighed frustratingly as they began to run after him.

———————–

“Patton, you need to be careful!” Logan called out to the blogger recording the two heroes flying away. “You could get hit.”

“Logan, please. I can take care of myself.” Patton said. “Luckybug and Chat Noir do so much for us - If I figure out their identities, think of what we could do to help! We could all takedown Hawkmoth together.”

“There has to be a good reason they’re secret, Patton,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. “Don’t you think they might know what’s best for this one? They are the professionals, after all.”

Patton seemed too focused to listen as the two ran in the direction of the heroes. “This way, come on!”

As the pair began running, a huge vine with blackthorns grew quickly in front of them. “Patton, watch out!”

It seemed in almost slow motion. Patton had turned back, confused - when he tripped, falling, the thorns going in towards his back, making Patton fall to the ground with a cry of pain. Logan rushed over as Patton’s feet slowly began to turn purplish black. “Patton, I told you to be careful!” Logan lectured. “We should’ve stayed with the others-”

Logan didn’t need to be an expert to recognize the pain on Patton’s face as he tried to stand, his legs shaking, the phone he was holding colliding to the ground with a smash. “We- we gotta follow them-!”

Patton fell forward, Logan moving to catch him. “No, you’re not. You’re in no condition to travel.” He sat down on the curb, Patton in his arms. He didn’t know what to do, and his heart clenched uncomfortably at the sight. “Are you alright?”

Patton gripped Logan’s arm as the darkness slowly moved up his legs. “L-logan… it hurts…”

“P-patton, I…” Logan’s mind was frazzled. In all his medical training, he had no idea how to handle this. They hadn’t prepared him for this - he usually always knew what to do. “Just… just hang on-”

Patton suddenly slumped over in Logan’s lap as Logan began to search in his emergency supplies for something, anything. His mind was so incredibly scrambled that he didn’t even notice at first. The darkness was at his stomach now.

“Patton don’t worry, everything’s going to be just-” Logan felt his heart drop when he realized Patton’s unconsciousness. “Patton… Patton, wake up, please-”

————————

“Oh Samuel, my sweet!” Overgrowth called all too innocently. “Come out, my love! I just want to… talk.”

Overgrowth, why did you abandon the miraculouses? Did you forget our deal?!

“Relax, Hawkmoth. If I grab Samuel, they’ll have to exchange his life for their miraculous.”

Such a cunning plan. Very well, grab the boy and be done with it!

Samuel shook in his broom closet, hearing the villain upstairs, his hands over his mouth as he tried not to whimper. He kept trying to remind himself that it wasn’t Thomas, and resist the urge to run out of his hiding place and apologize profusely to his friend.

He didn’t mean to hurt him - it was just so much of a surprise, he didn’t know what to say. Samuel sighed. That was the problem - he didn’t say anything. He should’ve said something, something to let him know they were still friends, that it was okay, that he didn’t need to be embarrassed…

…that he had thought about it too.

“Sammy! Come out, come out! I have something I want to tell you, sweetie!” Overgrowth called. A sudden slam upstairs nearly made Samuel jump. “I said… COME OUT!”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Sorry to burst your bubble, Overgrowth.” Luckybug said, tying his hands behind his back with ease with their yo-yo. As he held him down, he nodded to Chat, who walked over, searching for the akuma. He saw the roses glow slightly as he approached, and his eyes widened. Overgrowth quickly shook off the yo-yo, pushing both of them back and pinning them against the wall, nearly squishing them.

“My Prince- Argh!” Chat Noir winced at the pain. Luckybug breathed heavily, his vision going blurry.

“C-chat…ugh…”

“My Prince, no!” Chat tried to quickly maneuver the silver pole, his prince was about to pass out! He extended the pole, hitting Overgrowth in the face, as he released his grab on the heroes.

Joan ascended the stairs quietly, hearing a battle on the top floor they really didn’t want to get in the middle of at the moment. If they could just get Samuel out of here -

“Samuel?” They whispered harshly. “You in here?”

“J-joan…?” Samuel said, his voice shaking. They opened the closet quietly, as they both crept downstairs. Once out of earshot, the two finally had a moment to breathe. “Joan, thank you so much, I-!”

SLAP!

Samuel rubbed his reddened cheek. “That’s for breaking my best friend’s heart.” They said. “You’re an idiot and a douche.” They threw behind them as they climbed on the bike. “Now get on the scooter.”

Samuel quietly climbed on as they drove away. “I’m sorry, Joan.”

“I know, you dumb himbo.” Joan said. “Don’t worry about it. When this is all over, you need to talk to him. He, at the very least, deserves that.”

“I know.”

—————————

“My prince, the akuma is in the rose vines around his body, they glow whenever he summons a black rose!” Chat yelled, dodging attacks.

“But the vines are so close to his body, if we aren’t careful, we could kill him.” Luckybug yelled.

“So what should we- Ugh!” Chat’s body was wrapped tightly in the vines, the thorns digging into his costume, making his mask flicker quickly once more.

Luckybug glared at Overgrowth. “Enough is enough! Lucky Charm!” He yelled, throwing his yo-yo in the air, summoning… was that a metal hook?

“Ha ha, Luckybug. What’s that supposed to do, take me fishing?” Overgrowth yelled, as Luckybug looked around for something, anything - a clue as to what this was supposed to be used for.

Nothing. There was nothing.

Chat struggled in the villain’s grasp, trying to use anything to break free. Overgrowth smiled. “I’d love to stay and chat, but it seems a heartbreaker is slithering away. Goodbye.”

“Wait-!” Luckybug yelled, trying to rush after them, but Overgrowth quickly blocked the path by making the vines grow thick, blocking the hero from following him. “Chaton…”

He failed. Chat needed her and he couldn’t do anything.

What kind of hero was he?!

He heard a small voice in his head. Don’t give up hope, Virgil. Trust yourself.

“Tikki…?”

Chat Noir needs you, Virgil. His kawami is weakened, he won’t have long before he transforms back. Hawkmoth can’t know his identity.

You were chosen for a reason, Virgil.

————————–

Samuel and Joan drove quickly through the streets of Paris, trying to find a space to hide, when they heard a sickening sweet voice and their hearts quickly dropped.

“Samuel? My sweet? Don’t run away!”

“J-joan…” Samuel said, gripping their middle at the voice.

“I know. We need to hide, come on!” Joan said, grabbing his arm a bit harshly and heading into a nearby hotel, abandoning the scooter. They rushed up stairs, Joan practically pulling Samuel along. Even though he was a jerk, Samuel didn’t deserve whatever punishment Overgrowth has in store.

They searched and found a small broom closet, practically throwing Samuel inside. “Joan, come in, he’s coming!”

Joan smiled sadly. “I know.”

“Wait…”

“I know Thomas is in there… somewhere. I just need to reach out to him. Stay in here and keep quiet, alright?” Joan said, pushing Samuel deeper inside the small room, shutting the door and jamming the handle with a nearby broom. They heard banging, but didn’t respond. They needed to fix this, once and for all.

Luckybug jumped across the Paris rooftops, holding the metal hook and swinging his yo-yo, focused. Chat needed him. He didn’t need to look far - the Paris Hotel was swarmed with an overgrowth of vines, a huge clump of green on the top.

He climbed up quickly, and jumped onto the roof, hiding when he heard a voice he recognized. Was that Joan…? He peaked around the corner.

“Overgrowth, listen to me. I’m sorry for everything that happened, but you don’t need to be this way. Friends don’t let friends become horrible villains and destroy Paris.” Joan said, using their arms for emphasis. Overgrowth scoffed.

“I like the way I am now - less stupid and idiotic. This way, no one will ever have their heart broken again!”

Luckybug slowly crept behind the villain, shushing Joan and Chat, wrapped in the familiar thick green vine. Slowly, she grabbed the end of the vine wrapped around him, and tied it to the thick hook, hooking it sturdily to the metal around the emergency fire hose.

“Thomas, this isn’t you. Please. Don’t you trust me…?”

“I…” Overgrowth felt strange, weird even, until a sharp pain in his head snapped him to focus.

Don’t stand there, grab him you idiot!

Joan ran, dodging his attacks, nearly getting hit. “Now, Luckybug!”

Overgrowth turned, and Luckybug gave a smirk. “Time for your trip, I’m afraid.” He kicked the villain in the face, sending him over the edge. He fell, the vine wrapped around him being unwound as he yelled. He released Chat quickly and jumped down after the akuma, the vines around him unraveled until he was free falling. He quickly caught him, bringing him back up, yelling. “Now Chat!”

Chat Noir quickly rushed over, igniting his Cataclysm and striking the vines. As it turned to black dust, a purple butterfly sprouted out as Luckybug settled the victim in the roof, turning toward the akuma. “Time to de-evilize!” He yelled, catching the butterfly in her yo-yo, purifying and releasing it. “Bye-bye butterfly!”

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

—————-

The last thing Thomas remembered was being sad, so heartbroken…

Next thing he knew, he was on the roof of a hotel. “What… what happened?” He looked down at his hands. “Was I…?”

He looked over to see Joan, their eyes filled with tears as they rushed over, enveloping their friend in a big hug. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear me?!” The roof door opened, Talyn running toward the two. Joan looked up as Talyn crashed into them with a big hug. They quickly let go before punching Joan in the arm. “Hey-!”

“That’s for stealing my scooter, you ass!” Talyn said. “I ran all the way here from nineteenth thanks to you!”

Joan gave their friend a nervous smile. “Good exercise…?” Talyn socked him on the arm harder than before, sending explosions of pain down Joan’s arm. “Owww-! Sorry, sorry-!"

Thomas couldn’t help but giggle at this. "Rule number one: Never take Talyn’s scooter unless you’re looking for a fight. Eh, Joan?”

Joan smiled, rubbing at his arm and wincing at the pain. “Duly noted.”

Suddenly, the door opened and someone else appeared, leaving a tight knot in Thomas’s stomach - Samuel. He crossed his arms. “What are you doing here, Samuel?”

“I… I need to talk to you.”

“There’s no need, I get it. You don’t like me that way, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s not that at all. I do. Like you, I mean. Like, really really like you.” Samuel said, getting red. “When you told me I was just so shocked. I mean, you’re amazing, and I'm…”

“You're…?” Thomas asked.

“I’m a poor kid with nothing to offer but myself. You don’t deserve that.”

“Oh please.” Thomas said. “You are everything I could ever want - you’re kind, smart, resourceful - you make beautiful things out of nothing. You are what I deserve, Samuel Riggs.”

Samuel blushed, scratching the back of his head. “I still can’t believe you figured me out, I thought I was pretty secret about that kind of thing. How’d you do it?”

Thomas looked over to his friends, almost squealing at the two - they’d been trying to get them together for ages. “Oh, I had some… help.”

Samuel coughed, his face pink. “Dinner on Saturday? I know a great little bakery that’s pretty cheap - it’s supposed to be the best in Paris!”

Thomas smiled. “You’ve got yourself a date, Mr. Riggs. Pick me up at 7.” Thomas said, giving his new lover a kiss on the cheek, making Samuel turn bright red. He stammered, backing up until his back hit the door.

“Y-yes, a date! Date on S-saturday. The Saturday date-!” He laughed when his back met the door, his face still red. “S-see ya, Thomas!”

Hearts can be mended, but one day we’ll face each other, and I’ll be the one walking away unscathed, Luckybug and Chat Noir!

———————-

Luckybug quickly rushed downstairs with Chat, the beeping making his anxiety grow ever more. He noticed a closet and held it open. “Chat, you need to go, you’ll change back any second-”

When he hesitated, Luckybug tried shoving him inside to no avail. “Chat, please-”

“My prince. Look at me.”

“C-chat…?” He asked, getting nervous. “What’s going on…?” The beeping of Chat’s ring faded into the background as the two heroes stared at each other. Chat grabbed Luckybug’s hands in his own. Chat’s heart thumped wildly in his chest.

Today was the day. He needed to know.

“I need to tell you something my prince, something that my heart has burned in agony to tell you since the moment I met you.” He smiled as Luckybug stared at him. Luckybug was confused - why was he getting so flustered? Why is Chat looking at her like that? Luckybug’s head began to spiral.

This isn’t right, this isn’t right…

“My prince, I-”

Before Chat had finished his sentence, Luckybug could see his uniform begin to come undone, and kicked him inside, slamming the door and pressing his back to it, breathing heavily. He can’t know Chat’s identity. He just can’t. He cares too much to know.

“My prince…?”

“What the hell was that for, Chaton?!” He yelled. “You put yourself in danger, how can you be so reckless?!”

“I…” Roman’s voice was soft from the other side of the door. “I just need to speak to you, my prince. It’s… very important.”

“Now?!” Luckybug snapped. “Chat you were about to transform back! You know we can’t know each other’s identities, Hawkmoth-”

“Hawkmoth can use it against us, I know.” Roman sighed. “We just… really need to talk, my prince. I need to tell you something, something that I’ve kept to myself for far too long.”

Luckybug’s eyebrows were knitted. “Is it about Hawkmoth? Are you in danger, Chaton?”

“No, no… it’s just- I need to talk to you face to face. About us.” Roman said, biting his lip. Plagg, held in his master’s hands, rubbed his thumb in a bit of encouragement. They shared a small smile with each other.

“Chat, please just tell me what’s going on-”

“276 Melborne. The roof. Come at midnight, my prince. I’ll tell you everything, I promise.” Roman said. “Just… trust me.”

Luckybug’s stomach felt like a knot, but he trusted Chat with anything. He’d saved his life before, he had no reason not to. Months of partnership - of fighting side by side, as equals and as friends. Luckybug detransformed, and he slowly put his hand on the door, as if to be a slight source of comfort for the cat hero figure.

“Be safe, kitty.”

Then, he ran down the steps, his heart heavy and his stomach in knots, her mind focused on getting back home - after all, Roman’s theater group needed the costumes ready for the fitting.

Roman’s head thunked on the door, and he sighed. “Why is this so hard? I’ve dealt with tons of lovestruck fans, but with him… I can barely speak.”

“I’m proud of you, kid,” Plagg said. “Even if you melted like a bunch of gooey camemberts.” He added, smirking.

“Hey!” Roman interjected.

“Speaking of camembert…” Plagg said, diving in the pocket of Roman’s shirt for the cheese. Roman laughed at his kwami, nervous for the night ahead, but happy he decided to do it - after all this time, being restricted and ashamed for who he loved, he was happy he could at least confess to his crush, even if it was as Chat Noir.

He looked out the window as Plagg ate, seeing a ladybug, smiling to himself. Luckybug would finally know the truth, and he could finally be true with himself.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sander sides #prinxiety #logicality #sanders sides joan #sanders sides talyn #miraculous ladybug #tw homophobia #miracle miraculous au

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today-only-happens-once · 5 years

Text

the only exception

Title: the only exception

Word Count: 4,549

Summary: College!AU, Musician!AU. Patton shows up to a music festival that Virgil—along with his twin brother, Roman—is headlining, hoping to surprise him. Turns out, it’s Virgil that surprises him first. Romantic Moxiety, brief background Logince. Song-fic.

Warnings: lots of fluff and softness and sappiness, mutual pining elements, declarations of love, description of crowds, cursing, discussion of anxiety, mention of anxiety attacks, kissing, Virgil “writes” a song that’s actually written irl by Paramore but ssshhh Paramore doesn’t exist in this AU, please let me know if I forgot anything.

A/N: Someone on tumblr once made a textpost that said “The Only Exception” was a Moxiety song, and weeks later I listened to it and realized they were right. And then I had this image in my head that wouldn’t go away for like. Months. And then eventually I decided to write this. It’s basically a song-fic. Crazy self-indulgent, heh. Also, I’ve never written Romantic Moxiety before, nor have I written a Patton-POV focused fic. So writing this was a whole boatload of new. I hope it turned out okay! Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine.

You can listen to the song Virgil sings at the end here!

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34, @gaylotusthatexists, @analogical-mess, @dolphidragon, @flix-net, @narniasfinestavengingsociopath, @friedlieb-ferdinand-runge, @bibbidy-bobbity-booyah, @procrastinations-my-middle-name, and also @randomslasher because moxiety! ^u^

…

Present. March. Junior Year.

Patton shoulders his way through the crowd as rock music blares loudly over the speakers. The late March air is cool, and the breeze tugs at the COLLEGE-PALOOZA MUSIC FEST banner hanging from the amphitheater’s stage. A few people he recognizes from his classes wave to him as they nod their head to the music. Patton slows as he finds a small gap in the crowd, not particularly keen on getting into the tightly packed mosh pit that had formed right in front of the stage.

The sun is beginning to set, casting the sky in a light purple hue. Perhaps ironically, it reminds Patton of the guy he’s actually here to see perform. Patton glances at the stage, but there’s no sign of him. He checks his phone for the time. The group was supposed to be on now, but perhaps he’d missed them already.

He looks at the guy beside him—leather jacket and sunglasses, holding a Starbucks cup—and asks over the music, “Which group is this?”

The guy takes a long swallow and then jerks his head towards the stage. “Planets Align. They had trouble getting the sound system working, so they’re running behind.”

Patton nods his understanding, smiles, and thanks him. Planets Align was scheduled to go on right before them, if the pamphlet he’d found on Virgil’s desk was anything to go by. He’d felt terrible at the time when he realized that the band Virgil had formed with his twin brother, Roman, would be headlining a music festival the same day Patton had already promised to help with a group project.

But the other members of his group canceled the meeting earlier today and rescheduled it for next week. So Patton really didn’t see any reason why he couldn’t come support Virgil. And if he maybe didn’t tell Virge in the hopes of being able to surprise him… well.

Besides, he had a feeling Virgil could use a nice surprise. He’d seemed really nervous about the festival when Patton was talking to him about it when he found the pamphlet. Virgil often seemed nervous, but… more nervous than even Virgil’s normal.

Patton smiles a bit to himself when he remembers when they first met.

…

September. Sophomore year.

“For the purposes of this research presentation, I will allow you to choose partners. We will need one group of three, but that certainly seems manageable.”

Patton glances around the stuffy lecture hall. It was only the third time the class had met, so Patton hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to many of his classmates yet. On top of that, it was a pretty big class. Patton had a feeling that he wouldn’t know everybody even by the end of the year. The professor waves her hand to indicate that they should select a partner and begin discussing the project.

Chatter rose up—most people leaning over towards people they were sitting next to, a few calling to friends across the room—and there was shuffling movement and the scraping of chairs as students milled about to find a research partner. Then Patton caught sight of a black and purple hoodie in the back row.

What was his name? Patton couldn’t remember, despite the ice breaker during their first class. He does remember the snort the guy had released when Patton had made a pun about his name when introducing himself. He also remembers the way he’d immediately ducked his head a second later when Patton grinned at him.

Patton gathers his things and squeezes through his classmates. “Hey,” he says. The guy in the hoodie looks up, seeming startled. “Wanna be partners?”

The guy blinks at him, then shifts in his seat and motions to the empty chair on the other side of his desk. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“I’m Patton, by the way.”

“Virgil. What, uh, what are you studying?”

Patton pulls his laptop out of his bag. “Oh! I’m an early education major. What about you?” As he asks, Patton casts a quick glance at the laptop in front of Virgil and notices the stickers on it: SANDERS in messy black scrawl, a thundercloud with a bolt of lightning, a small circle with a paint-smear style gay pride flag, and a few music notes.

“Graphic design with a minor in music,” he replies. Patton notices him glancing at the buttons on Patton’s backpack that he threw in the empty chair beside him—some about cats, some about dogs, a heart with glasses that he thought was cute, and a pride pin from last year’s Pride week.

“That’s pretty cool. You play music?”

Virgil lifts a shoulder. “With my brother, mostly.”

“Wow. That’s… really awesome,” Patton says, sincerely impressed. He’d always loved music, but really only dabbled in the ukulele. He’d always thought musicians were cool: having skills like that took a lot of work, and a lot of dedication. That seemed pretty admirable to Patton.

Virgil smirks. “If you say so.”

“I do. I mean it.” For a fleeting moment, Virgil looks taken aback by the insistence in Patton’s voice. “What do you play?”

…

Present.

“Roman is totally the hot one,” Patton hears a girl behind him say to her friends.

“Elliot thinks he has a crush on Logan Berry, you know.”

“He’s gay?” The girl sounds surprised, but not hostile.

“Ace, I think. Panromantic, if the stickers on his laptop are anything to go by.” Patton recognizes that voice as one of the girls in the LGBTQ+ club that Patton was secretary for.

“You have class with him?”

“We had English 100 together freshman year. Elliot’s in class with him and Logan, though, and says they want to gag literally any time the two so much as talk to each other.”

Patton grins to himself. Subtlety when he had a crush had never really been Roman’s strong suit. That was another place where Virgil was markedly different from his twin brother. Both Roman and Virgil had ways of keeping their distance from others, but where Roman put up a front of fearlessness and confidence and friendliness… Virgil seemed more likely to withdraw into himself.

Patton had learned that, and many other things about Virgil, slowly as meetings for the research project gradually developed into hanging out regularly and casually. Patton picked up on things about Virgil relatively quickly. He gets quiet and irritable when he’s actually anxious about something. He tends to catastrophize, especially when it comes to academics. He hasn’t yet learned how to accept compliments—something Patton didn’t let deter him from giving them. He hopes that the more he’s able to expose Virgil to them, the easier it will eventually get for him to accept them.

Patton learned that Virgil is fiercely protective, too. The fastest way for Virgil to overcome his anxiety about a situation is usually when it’s related to someone he cares about. He still remembers the fire that had alighted in his eyes when someone had started harassing Roman when he, Patton, Roman, and Logan had been heading back from a party on a Friday night a couple of months ago. Logan had been the one to diffuse that particular situation, but Patton hadn’t missed the way Virgil hovered closer to his brother and looked ready to fight when he’d seen the shaken look in Roman’s eyes.

But then there were the softer moments from Virgil, too. The fleeting moments when Patton saw something gentle and relaxed from him that a secret part of Patton liked to believe were just for him. They were a sign of trust from Virgil, and Patton had always cherished that trust precisely because it was so rare.

…

April. Sophomore year.

“What time is it?” Virgil asks with a yawn. He’s sitting on the floor of his dorm, his guitar in his hands. His back is leaned up against the drawers of his desk. Patton sits on the floor across from him with his back against the cinderblock wall and his legs stretched out in front of him.

Patton digs his phone out of his pocket and checks. “Almost 1 in the morning.”

Virgil nods and strums a few chords softly. “You’re welcome to stick around, Patton, but… y’know. It’s chill if you’d rather go home.”

Patton shakes his head “I like it here,” he says. For reasons he is still figuring out, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

Patton watches him; he watches the way Virgil’s bangs fall in a soft sweep across his face, the dark eyeshadow smudged under his eyes, the slight parting of his lips as he mouths unheard lyrics. He always loves watching Virgil play guitar. There’s something about watching him hold the light brown acoustic instrument—like it steadies him, like it’s a shield that protects him—that Patton can’t help but love. Virgil seems to… breathe easier when he has a guitar in his hands.

“Virgil? Can I ask you something?” Patton says suddenly.

Virgil glances quickly at him, then back down at the guitar in his hands. Avoiding his eyes. “Yeah. Sure.” His voice sounds oddly tight to Patton.

“Why do you play music?”

The question seems to catch him off guard. Virgil stops short for a moment, glancing back up at Patton. His hands still against the instrument, his eyes flit away in thought.

Then—to Patton’s surprise—he sets the guitar aside.

“It… gives me a space where I can… connect, I guess?” He rubs the back of his head, glancing at Patton as if unsure whether or not his own words made sense.

“Connect?”

“Well,” Virgil pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on top of them, “Yeah. I’ve never been good at… at the whole…” He waves a hand and sighs. “At the whole ‘words’ thing that’s required for making friends or helping someone or… whatever. I’m always afraid I’m gonna say the wrong thing, or make them feel awkward, or… shit, I don’t know. But music is different. It…” He huffs a frustrated sigh as the words escape him. Then he tosses Patton a wry smile. “See what I mean? Words aren’t really my thing. Music is different, though.”

Patton nods. He glances around at the MCR and Dear Evan Hansen poster on walls of Virgil’s side of the room. “I think I get it. Music lets you speak from where you are emotionally at a given moment, and people can come to you—or your music—to find that connection and community. It… lets you express yourself, and by doing that, lets you connect to other people.”

When Patton looks back at Virgil, he’s looking at him with something like disbelief. But there’s a softness and light in his eyes that makes Patton’s stomach flutter. “Yeah,” Virgil says eventually. “Exactly.” Patton meets his gaze with a small smile, even as he feels suddenly like Virgil can see all the parts of himself that he wants to hide.

The corner of Virgil’s mouth quirks slightly and he digs a small purple leather notepad out of his back pocket. He grabs a pen from the top of his desk and scribbles something down.

“Whatcha writing?” Patton asks curiously.

Virgil folds it and slips it back into his pocket. “Nothing, Pat.” He still has that soft kind of smile and look in his eyes even as he grabs his guitar and pulls it back into his lap.

…

Present.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Planets Align!” The emcee shouts into the mic as he runs on stage and the band waves as they exit to the cheers of the crowd. Patton applauds them and briefly considers moving closer to the stage before deciding against it. He’d never done well with tight crowds.

The sun has dipped below the horizon now, the sky darkening quickly. The lights from the stage bleed out onto the grass clearing, providing some lighting of the crowd itself as well. The air is a bit colder now, but Patton doesn’t mind. Besides, all the people around him moving and dancing have helped keep it from getting too cold anyway.

“Next up, the ones you’ve all been waiting for. Let’s hear it for… SANDERS!”

Patton lets out a cheer as the crowd screams. He sees Virgil’s twin brother—though you’d never know it from how differently they do make up and their hair—run on stage with his arms up to encourage the crowd’s response. The cheers get louder, and Roman grins and strikes a hero pose. He’s energized. Patton smiles at his evident excitement.

Virgil follows behind him, an electric guitar strapped to his back. Even from his distance from the stage, Patton can see him shaking his head at his brother’s antics. He gives a small, appreciative wave to the crowd. His eyes scan it, and a part of Patton can’t help but wonder if he’s looking for him someone.

Reasoning, though, reminds him that Virgil said he always tries to get a feel for the size of a crowd when he goes out on stage at a venue for the first time. It had started as a nervous thing—how many people might see me fail?—but as Virgil’s confidence in performing grew, it had mostly just become a habit.

“What is UP, everybody?” Roman says into the mic. He’s wearing a bright red leather jacket with a white shirt underneath, shiny gold skinny jeans, and red high top converse. “We’re so glad you could come out tonight. How about this awesome weather, yeah?”

More cheers. Patton watches as Virgil pulls the guitar from around his back with a smile. He’s in his familiar hoodie, purple shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, and his black sneakers with purple laces. At first glance, he doesn’t seem too nervous—Patton had long ago gotten in the habit of glancing at him to check if he’s okay when he knows Virgil might be getting anxious—but it’s hard to tell from this distance.

“My brother, Virgil, and I thought we’d kick things off with an original song. How’s that sound, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals?” There’s louder cheering, and the two of them waste no time starting a song that Patton remembers from previous concerts of theirs he’d attended.

…

November. Junior Year.

Patton’s phone dings while he’s eating lunch in the student union and flipping through an education textbook to study for his quiz tomorrow on Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development. Exams are quickly approaching, and Patton had always struggled to remember theorists’ names for some reason.

It’s a text from Roman. Is V with you?

Patton frowns and types back quickly. No. It’s Tuesday. Then he sends a second text. Why?

The student union is bustling with students breezing through to grab lunch before rushing off to the library or their class. Groups are clustered around tables to hash out the details of final projects as their deadlines approach in the next week or two. Exhausted English majors slump over their stale coffee cups and computers as they edit their final paper for the eighth time. Engineering students running on caffeine and spite chug another energy drink before hurrying off to the lab building. A couple others that Patton can see are watching Netflix in a desperate attempt to give themselves a break before plunging back into the grind of end-of-the-semester assignments.

Roman’s reply comes almost immediately. He sent me a single letter text which usually means he’s freaking out but idek where he is

Patton stands up and forgets his half-eaten sandwich, dropping it in the compost bin as he slings his backpack over his shoulder and hurries out of the building. Have you tried calling him? He texts quickly.

R: Yeah. No response… just lemme know if you see him or if he texts you or something ok

Patton rolls his eyes. As if he’s just going to go about his day and not try to help. Especially if V might be freaking out. We’ll find him, Roman. You check the science center and I’ll check the music floor of Stokes Hall.

R: ok.

R: Thanks

Patton turns his ringer on at full volume and braces against the cold air as he hurries to the building beside the Student Union. The November air is biting. Students bustle with their noses tucked into their scarves and red fingers curled around coffee cups. There was no snow on the ground, but the grass still crunches under Patton’s shoes as he hurries across the quad towards Stokes Hall. His light blue beanie is pulled low over his light brown hair.

He’s wishing he had a scarf to hide his nose in—instead opting to try to tuck it into the sleeves of the sweatshirt tied around his shoulders—when he walks straight into someone.

“Shit! I’m so sorry—”

“Virgil?” Patton asks, immediately recognizing the voice. He looks up, and Virgil seems frozen for a moment. It only takes Patton a second to realize that his eyes are red and sunken slightly. His usual sweep of hair is a disheveled mess under the hood of his sweatshirt that engulfs his frame.

If Patton’s being honest, he looks… rough. Concern twists in Patton’s chest.

“I’m so sorry, Patton. I’m an idiot, I just wasn’t watching where—”

“Hey, it’s all good, Virge,” Patton says, quickly but sincerely. He places his hands on Virgil’s shoulder to anchor him. “Breathe.”

Virgil laughs but it’s humorless and shrugs out from under his grip. Patton frowns. “I’m fine. I know I look like a mess, but really. It’s fine now. I was just. Um. Coming outside for some air.”

Patton considers the deflection and decides to meet Virgil half-way. “I could use some too.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“Honest, V. The cold air is kind of nice.” Patton slips his phone out of his pocket and sends a quick text to Roman. Got him. He offers a small, reassuring smile to Virgil.“ You wanna take a seat?”

Virgil meets his gaze, then glances away. He seems to think about it for a moment, then relents with a slight sag to his shoulders. “Sure. Fine.”

Patton wanders over to a bench across the pathway and takes a seat. He looks around as students rush quickly towards their classes, smiling brightly as a service dog trots dutifully beside his owner and pushes the button to open the door as the student hurries inside. He intentionally keeps his gaze from lingering on Virgil, even as he hesitates before sitting beside him.

Virgil waits until most of the students have rushed off before breaking the silence between them. “You aren’t going to ask?”

Patton glances over at him. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and you seemed reluctant to talk about it…. Should I ask?”

“No. Yes?” Virgil groans, zipping up his hoodie against the chilly air. “It wasn’t anything like. That bad. Y’know? I just get… anxiety attacks sometimes, and sometimes they get…” He trails off. Patton senses more than sees the way Virgil glances quickly at him. “Anyway. I’m fine now.”

Patton isn’t sure what to say. He’d known for a long time now that Virgil struggled with anxiety. That Virgil had anxiety attacks doesn’t exactly surprise him, and it definitely isn’t off-putting or anything of the sort. But Patton hates the way Virgil keeps trying to deflect… something. Judgement. Concern. Patton suddenly and fiercely wishes Virgil would just let someone care about him. Let someone love him.

Patton thinks maybe he already does.

“Virgil….” Patton says softly, looking at his hands folded between his knees, “It’s okay. You know that, right? You can talk to me about it. And I’m not gonna judge you or think you’re weird or that there’s anything wrong with you.”

“I… I’m fine.”

Patton lifts a shoulder. “Okay. But… it’s okay if you aren’t, too. And either way… you’re definitely not alone. You know? You know Roman’s there for you, but… but I am too. I care about you.”

In his peripheral, he sees Virgil look at him. “Patton—”

“There you guys are!” Roman exclaims as he jogs up to the two of them. Patton smiles at Virgil—who looks, for all the world, like the ground has shifted underneath him.

Patton wants to ask him why. He never does.

…

Present.

SANDERS has played through five songs, which means they’re nearing the end of their set. Patton is beaming. Virgil and Roman play off each other so well, and their music seems to be a blend of both of them in a way. They balance each other on stage. They’re fun to watch. Patton can’t help but think, though he may be biased, that if they really wanted to… they could make a career out of it.

But then they do something that surprises Patton, and apparently everyone else too from the way the crowd starts to murmur.

Virgil trades out his electric guitar for his light brown acoustic one. Roman grabs a wooden stool from one of the wings and sets it in the middle of the stage. Virgil adjusts the strap of the guitar around his shoulders, nodding his thanks to Roman.

“So I hope you all don’t mind if we close out with something a little different than our usual pace,” Virgil is saying into the wireless mic attached to him. “But I lost a bet against Roman, and that means I gotta do this.”

“If I lost I was gonna have to wear jorts for this concert. You all should be thanking me,” Roman quips back through his own mic. There’s a chuckle from Virgil as well as the crowd.

“Yeah, well. This is a song I wrote over the course of… probably about a year. It’s about someone very… important to me. He couldn’t be here tonight, but… he’s pretty great. Anyway, it’s a little different, so uh.” Even under the stage lights, Patton thinks he can see Virgil flushing slightly. “I hope you all like it.”

Virgil starts strumming and all Patton can do is watch him, transfixed by the sound of an acoustic guitar and the sight of Virgil under a spotlight on stage. It’s a much softer song already than any other song in their entire set. Virgil ducks his head slightly, his black sneaker tapping out the ¾ meter. And then Virgil starts to sing.

“When I was younger I saw my daddy cry, and curse at the wind.

He broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to reassemble it.

And my momma swore that she would never let herself forget.

And that was the day that I promised I’d never sing of love if it does not exist.

But darlin’ you are the only exception. You are the only exception…”

As Virgil sings, Patton can’t help but feel rooted to the spot. Virgil sitting and playing his acoustic guitar reminds Patton suddenly of that moment again back in Virgil’s dorm room. That moment of honesty and openness from him that always felt so rare. Patton feels like he’s experiencing that again, despite the crowd and the spotlights. Because this is not performance-Virgil, this is just…. Virgil. At his most honest. At his mot exposed. And it’s breathtaking.

Patton doesn’t even fully realize that he’s moving closer to the stage until he almost trips over a girl that’s swaying and holding her phone with a flashlight up in the air.

Virgil breaks into the second verse, and Patton feels his stomach fluttering all over again at the sound of his voice.

“Well maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts.

And we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face.

And I’ve always lived like this. Keeping a comfortable distance.

And up until now I had sworn to myself that I’m content with loneliness,

‘Cuz none of it was ever worth the risk.

Well you are the only exception. You are the only exception…”

And a part of Patton—a part he’s afraid to admit to—suddenly starts to grow insistent with the realization that he might be really, truly, unequivocally in love with the person singing on the stage in this moment. The one with his bangs falling into eyes that had always looked to Patton to be a little bit afraid and a lot brave.

This song, this moment, is no exception to that. Music, for Virgil, had always started from some place deeply personal. It is what allows him to connect to others, after all. And Patton doesn’t know if the song is about him, but he wants it to be. Because that deeply personal space that Virgil is singing from resonates with Patton in a way that leaves only one thought repeating in his head. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Almost as if he hears the thought itself, Virgil looks up and starts scanning the crowd again as he reaches the bridge.

“I’ve got a tight grip on reality

But I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here.” He’s scanning, scanning, scanning…

“I know you’re leaving in the morning. When you wake up,

Leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream. Oh…”

And then his eyes settle squarely on Patton, and Patton swears he hears the very faint catch of Virgil’s breath through the mic.

Patton gives him a small, faint smile. There’s a brief moment where uncertainty flickers through Virgil’s dark eyes, and then something sets firmly in them. As if he’s made some kind of split-second decision. Virgil stands up from the stool and starts making his way towards the stage stairs, continuing to play and sing as he does so.

“You are the only exception. You are the only exception….”

Patton loses sight of him as he steps down to ground level, the crowd blocking his view. But Virgil keeps singing that line over and over, you are the only exception, as if imploring Patton to hear it and understand it and know it is meant for him. As if perhaps Virgil has to repeat it himself to fully believe in its truth, but each time he sings it, Patton can hear the conviction growing. Far ahead of him, Patton can see people shifting around in the mosh pit in front of him.

Patton doesn’t move. He doesn’t think he knows how to.

And then through the crowd of people in front of him steps Virgil, still playing. Still singing. And Patton can’t help but notice his eyes look wide and scared and vulnerable—but unwavering—as he sings the final line.

“But I’m on my way to believing…”

He plays the final chord and stands there, looking up at Patton. He’s so close. The guitar and a few inches is all that separates them. Patton swallows past the lump in his throat and brings a hand up to cup Virgil’s jaw before leaning his forehead against Virgil’s and whispering.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes are closed, so he doesn’t see Virgil’s relieved, crooked grin. But he feels it when Virgil presses his lips to his own.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #romantic moxiety #moxiety #romantic moxiety fanfiction #fluff #crowds #cursing #kissing #softness #sappiness #virgil sanders #patton sanders

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vincent-frankenstein · 5 years

Text

To My Heart and Soul

[ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | you are here | 16 | 17 | 18 | read on AO3 ]

Warnings: major character death, villain/abusive deceit, blood, fighting, panic attacks, creepy imagery

Pairings: logince, hints of moxiety, a tiny smidge of remile and past abusive anxceit

He was halfway to the house when the world exploded.

The sky filled with sickly yellow light, powerful magical energy rushing past him quickly enough to tear trees from the ground and send them flying. But even as it tore up the world around him, the energy didn’t touch him. The first wave passed quickly, dangerously fast, and a beacon of molten gold shot into the sky, blazing brighter than the sun.

Logan mapped out the city in his mind, and wasn’t at all surprised to find that the beacon was coming from his old house. His feet carried him towards the light before the terror in his lungs could freeze him, and he held the weapon even tighter, face hardening. People rushed around him, panicked, terrified, and they paid him no mind.

The weapon thrummed in his hands, a deep, steady hum, melodic and comforting as it urged him on. He ran a finger down the hilt, his thumb catching in the hole. It was barely half an inch deep, with grooves dug around the side, as though something was meant to slot inside. A key, maybe?

Oh.

His feet didn’t slow, even as his mind reeled with the realization. The weapon was filled with Roman’s magic — his lifeblood, essentially. In other words: his heart and soul. And to his heart and soul, Logan held the key.

Mind racing, he pulled his wedding ring from his finger and held it up to the hole. The sizes matched up perfectly; it would be a perfect fit. Could it be that easy, that poetic?

Of course it could. Roman had designed it.

A shaking breath fell from his lips as he slipped his ring back onto his finger, bold determination sparking to life in his gut. It didn’t feel like he was marching towards his own death anymore; rather, he felt like he was marching towards someone else’s. He’d cracked the code, solved Roman’s puzzle, just as Roman must have known he would — and now he could give Dorian back every ounce of pain, every moment of grief, that he himself had been suffering with since Roman left.

The house came into view, and he stopped without meaning to, grief slipping, unbidden, into his chest. The windows were shattered, the wood rotten and twisted beyond repair, empty and barren and wrong wrong wrong in too many ways to count. It was only a reflection of the home he once had, he knew that — but that fact didn’t make it hurt any less. Facts rarely did.

Golden light emanated from the attic window, bursting through every hole in the dilapidated roof. Even as it brushed past him, leaving him unscathed, the impossible power of the golden magic sent cold, buzzing fear jumping into Logan’s throat. He’d never felt magic like this before.

With a wave of warmth, the weapon spurred his feet into motion. Dorian was powerful — but the weapon was, too. Logan only hoped it was enough to stop him, once and for all.

He slipped his ring back off his finger and held it up to the hole as he stepped into the wreck he’d once called home. The moment he stepped over the threshold, silence fell over him like a thick, suffocating blanket. His footsteps echoed down the hallways no matter how softly he stepped. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a long, paranoid moment, he wondered if it was loud enough for Dorian to hear, loud enough to get him killed.

He held the weapon tighter.

His feet carried him down the path from his nightmare even as a small, foolish voice in his mind screamed at him to stop, to turn and run and get help. But there was no one who would help him, not without hiding him away first, and he couldn’t, couldn’t be taken from his husband again.

Roman was exactly where he knew he would be, but Logan still cried out the moment he saw him, rushing to his side in an instant. The room swam before him as his eyes began to sting, his hand shaking as he lifted it to hover beside Roman’s face. “Roman,” he whispered, and his voice shattered, shards of broken glass landing on his tongue. Slowly, he brought his hand down to cradle the side of Roman’s face.

And Logan touched Roman for the first time in months.

It burned, it ached — Roman’s skin set fire to Logan’s hand and it raced up his arm, sinking deep into his bones, filling his lungs with ash — and he wanted more. He pressed his forehead up against Roman’s with a desperate, pained noise, his tears burning their frigid tracks down his cheeks.

With a soft, pained groan, Roman shifted, eyes fluttering open. Their eyes met, and Roman’s filled with tears, a desperate gasp falling from his lips. “Logan,” he breathed.

Logan surged forward and pressed their lips together, and Roman’s words died on his tongue. The fire spread between them until they were both aflame — Logan’s hands tangled in Roman’s hair and Roman leaned into him with aching desperation, and they pressed closer, closer, closer —

Roman pulled away with a sharp, pained gasp, pressing his forehead into Logan’s. “What are you doing here?” he whispered, his voice trembling so badly that Logan could barely understand him.

“Rescuing you,” Logan said. “I told you, sunbeam. I’m not leaving without you.”

Tears pooled in Roman’s eyes at the nickname, spilling over onto his cheeks. “Y-You idiot,” he whispered. “You brave, wonderful idiot, you — it’s all happening exactly like —”

“Like I said it would?”

Roman cut off with a choked gasp. “You — you know?”

“I only just learned,” Logan said. “I… spouted a prophecy in the Council hall. Given your strange behavior and your apparent knowledge of the future, coupled with my… my abilities, it wasn’t too hard to determine that I’m the reason you left.”

“Logan —”

“It’s my fault,” Logan continued, and he really, really wanted to stop, but the words poured from his mouth in a deluge of guilt and desperation and every ounce of grief he’d shoved away. “I — somehow, I made you believe that you had to leave, that you had to face things alone, and because of that, Dorian was able to capture you. It’s — it’s all my fault —”

“Logan,” Roman said sharply, and there, there was a hint of his passion, his fire, beneath the grief and the pain. “That night, you predicted that Dorian would come for me. That if you got involved, you — you would die. I thought I could change the future by leaving.”

“I —” Logan’s voice broke. “You could have told me, we could have figured it out together. You didn’t have to leave.”

“I-I know,” Roman said, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I panicked. I couldn’t — I couldn’t lose you.”

“So instead, you made me believe I lost you?” Logan dragged a hand across his eyes, swiping away the tears that refused to stop gathering. “I — do you have any idea what I’ve been through? How much that hurt? Roman, I though you were gone, I thought I had lost you forever, I —”

“I know,” Roman said, a sob tearing through his words. “I know, I — I regretted it as soon as Ieft, but I thought I was protecting you. And it didn’t even work! Dorian — he knew I was still alive, and of course he knew about you, so it didn’t make a damn bit of difference.”

“I —” Logan cut himself off with a sharp sigh. “It doesn’t matter. Right now, we have to get you out of here. We can… talk later.” He set the weapon on the floor beside Roman and kneeled down behind him, grabbing the chains that bound his hands to the floor. “These don’t appear to be magical.”

“They’re not,” Roman said. “Magical bindings would have probably killed me.”

Logan dug a pair of pins from his pocket and lifted the chains. “There is one thing I don’t understand,” he said as he worked, twisting the pins through the keyhole with a practiced precision. “If your goal was to keep me away from all of this, why did you leave so many clues that only I could figure out?”

“Because I know you, starshine,” Roman said. “The last thing I wanted was for you to come here, but I knew there was a chance you’d find this place — or it would find you. I wanted to give you a fighting chance. I meant to give the other key to Patton, with a letter explaining everything, so you wouldn’t be the only one with the answers, but… well, you can see why I didn’t get the chance. I ended up giving it to Vir —”

Logan yelped as the chains were suddenly jerked from his grasp, and Roman cut off with a choked gasp, both hands rushing to slap over his mouth. Yellow light flared around the chains and yanked them away, forcing Roman down.

“Such a lovely reunion,” Dorian said softly, his slow claps echoing unnaturally through the room. “It’s a shame I have to cut it short. Hello again, Logan.”

For a moment, Logan couldn’t move. His breath caught in his throat beneath a wall of words and he choked, insults laced with venom dying on his tongue. Something was… wrong. Deeply, deeply wrong. Golden light burned around Dorian’s figure, acrid smoke curling through the air; and with every move he made the light shifted to follow, afterimages searing along beside him. Something flickered around him. Logan blinked and it was gone.

Roman cried out as the chains grew tighter, pressing his face into the floor. Logan didn’t hesitate — he shoved away his terror and grabbed one of the shackles, jamming his lockpick into the hole. Dorian tutted, golden magic swirling from his fingertips to wind, snake-like, around Logan’s limbs, but he fought with all his might against them, and with one final jerk, the shackles fell to the ground.

And Logan was jerked up and away from the floor, coils of magic lashing around his wrists and burning into his skin. Pain flashed up and down his arms but he refused to scream, refused to give Dorian the satisfaction. His job was done; Roman was free, and the weapon was at his feet.

“Let him go.” Roman’s voice dripped with venom, his face contorted with rage. He lifted the weapon towards Dorian, the tip pointing straight at his chest. But Dorian… didn’t look scared. He raised a disinterested brow, waving a hand through the air to draw Logan closer.

“Have you discovered a way to make that thing work without a key?” he asked, smug victory laced through his tone. Roman’s expression faltered; his fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword, doubt flashing in his eyes. “You never cease to amaze me, dear brother. Go on, then, if you’re so confident.”

Logan strained against the bonds with all his might, desperate to reach his wedding ring, desperate to somehow, somehow give it to Roman. A searing golden coil snaked across his mouth before he could cry out, and tears gathered, unbidden, in his eyes.

“That’s what I thought,” Dorian said. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to give me the weapon, and you’re going to give me the key,” he said, pointing to Roman and then to Logan with all the languid ease in the world. “Then, you will either return to your mortal world and leave this one to me, or you’ll die by my hands. Either way works for me.”

“No,” Roman said, lifting his head to glare regally down at Dorian. “I won’t leave this world to suffer. I won’t let you win again.”

“Oh, honey, it’s a bit too late for that,” Dorian said, and the golden magic flowing from the attic pulsed as if to prove his point, washing the world outside in a sickly yellow glow. “I’m trying to spare you. Don’t play the hero, Roman. This world is a lost cause.”

“I would rather die than let you destroy my home,” Roman spat. He stood tall despite his bruises, shifting the weapon in his hands as he shifted into a fighting stance. Logan’s heart stopped; the magic binding him flared painfully. Dorian’s form seemed to flicker — a thousand emotions crossed his face before he settled on a cold, placid rage.

“How noble,” he whispered. “You would sacrifice your own life for your home. Tell me, Roman…” He lifted a hand and Logan drifted towards him. Darkness tugged at the edges of his vision; the pain had begun to subside into a dull, throbbing numbness. Probably not a good sign. “Would you be as eager to sacrifice his?”

Horror flashed across Roman’s face. The weapon lowered; he seemed close to dropping it. Dorian laughed, high-pitched and cruel. “You’ve forgotten who holds the cards in this scenario,” he taunted. With a sick grin, he twirled the end of the magical ropes around his finger. “Tick-tock, Roman. I need an answer.”

“I —” Roman’s gaze caught on Logan and his eyes filled with tears. Logan shook his head. Don’t do it, he pleaded silently. The weapon was their only hope; Logan’s life wasn’t worth it.

“Time’s up.” Dorian closed his fist around the rope — and they tightened so swiftly that colors popped before Logan’s eyes, agony racing through every inch of his body. Darkness sank into his bones and tugged; he was coming apart, coming undone, dissolving under the pain —

And then it stopped. Cold relief dripped through the searing pain, and bit by bit the darkness receded. He was on the floor, cold tiles digging into his face. Someone was talking to him — their voice pitched with panic, their hands shaking as they urged him to his feet. A face swam before his eyes.

“Roman,” he wheezed, his voice haggard and raw. “Where… where is the…?”

He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to; with a dawning horror he realized where the weapon had gone, his gaze trailing up Dorian’s form. He turned the weapon over in his hands, slowly, deliberately, glee sparkling in his eyes. His sclera had begun to turn black, Logan noticed with a start.

“Perfect,” Dorian whispered. His voice echoed through the room, double-edged, wrong. Roman shook, the blood draining from his face.

“You’re not Dorian,” he breathed.

“Of course I am,” Dorian said, tilting his head to the side. “Just not as you knew him, I suppose. You see, I’m not alone anymore.”

He spat his words with such venom and such force that Roman nearly toppled. Suddenly, Logan was supporting him just as much as he was supporting Logan. That horrible something flickered around Dorian’s form again, hideously golden, and it was gone in the blink of an eye.

“Now then,” Dorian said, moving his terrible gaze from Roman to Logan. “The key, if you don’t mind.”

“N-No,” Logan managed. Dorian having the weapon was bad enough; he refused to give him the power to activate it. “I don’t know how to activate it. I — I don’t know what the key is.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Logan,” he said. “I am not an idiot, and neither are you. You wouldn’t have rushed into this without knowing how to activate the weapon. Give me the key.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to Roman. Roman shook his head minutely, terror painted across every inch of his face. Something was deeply, deeply wrong. Logan clutched his husband even tighter, narrowed his eyes, and spat in death’s face.

“No,” he said again, as forcefully as he could manage. Dorian raised an eyebrow.

“You really don’t know when to quit,” he said, lifting a hand. Logan braced himself — no matter what happened, no matter what sort of pain Dorian could invoke, he wouldn’t give up the key. Yellow light flared and pushed against them like a wall of fire, painful, agonizing —

Until a deluge of purple pushed it back.

#logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts deceit #villain deceit #abusive deceit #deceit sanders #sanders sides #death tw #blood tw #to my heart and soul #celeste's portfolio

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sidespromptblog · 6 years

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Uncommon Falsehoods: Part 7

Summary: Something that no one saw coming, Logan and Deceit bond over being the “least popular characters” and at the new development the other sides feel jealous. They had never thought that Logan wouldn’t always be there with them and for them, now though, they have to deal with the fact that not all falsehoods are uncommon.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

Seizing his hat and jacket that seemed almost purposefully trampled on Deceit hastily dusted them off before clutching the items to his chest, the familiar feel of the fabric against his fingers made him feel just a little more at home in the room that he was not at all familiar with. Taking in a deep shuddering breath and silently coaching himself so that he wouldn’t completely lose it and burst into tears, making him lose his concentration on Logan’s form. He instead gingerly set the two items down on Logan’s bed as he surveyed the mess that Vigil and Roman had left behind in their wake.

“Idiots.” Deceit grumbled sourly, and without a second thought in the matter, got to work cleaning up everything.

The first thing that he worked on was everything that had fallen from Logan’s shelves, from the books to the intricate science like structures that Logan himself must have made. Looking closer at a few of them, Deceit felt his chest make a weird feeling as he noted that each and every science item was something tying back to Thomas’ now forgotten career in the field of science.

How long had Logan clung to these? How long had Logan clung to the idea that perhaps Thomas would once again do something in this area?

Fiddling with one of the white ribbons that Thomas had won from a science fair, Deceit felt his heart do that odd movement again as he pinned the ribbon back onto Logan’s bright blue unicorn plushie. A deep sigh rattled him as he looked at everything that was back on the shelves, things that Logan had deemed to be important to him and things that he cared for. It really surprised him on just how many things were actually here. Before, he had thought that Logan only cared for his books, or useless boring things that Thomas wanted no part in. It had never occurred to him that this..all of this was a part of Logan as well. He felt ashamed at the notion, actually ashamed that he hadn’t thought to look a little deeper into the resident nerd.

Then again, this only supported his personal theory a little bit more, they didn’t deserve Logan...but then again did he?

“Lo-berry?” Patton’s voice snapped him out of the well that was his thoughts, making him snap his head up looking over to the door as he heard the shy knock from the other side. “You don’t have to open up if you don’t want to but...I’ve brought you a plate of cookies if you want to snack on any.”

On the other side of the door, Patton hesitated as he held the plate that was absolutely filled to the brim with cookies, his thumb traced the design that was around the edge before he had the courage to speak up again. “I am sorry about Virgil and Roman...we were really worried about you, and I guess that they took it to the next step. You know them…” Hesitating a moment more Patton pressed his ear to the door hoping to hear something or at least anything, when he found himself falling the moment that the door opened up on him. His face collided into Logan’s surprisingly cold chest, and within seconds his face was heating up.

A firm hand on his shoulder helped him right back up, but looking at Logan’s face he couldn’t tell anything. Usually, any time that Logan was forced to retreat to his room, he at least had a smile for Patton, when the moral side came up with whatever he had been cooking before. That wasn’t what shocked him though, what shocked him was what Logan said next.

“If they expect me to forgive them for this transgression...then the both of them will need to tell me themselves and not just send you. They are adults, and they are capable of an actual apology.” Logan coldly stated making Patton blink in surprise, it felt so off from what Logan normally did. Usually, the food was taken and the apology was accepted, but no..Logan really must have been upset with the damage they had done to his room to be this angry.

“Thank you for the cookies.” He then added, extending his hand and graciously taking the plate from the moral side, and to Patton’s credit he seemed to get that right here and now he wasn’t exactly wanted. As he stepped back offering him a simple and yet warm smile before Patton shut the door with a gentle click. Leaving Deceit completely alone, as the moral side went back down to the kitchen, to tell the two eavesdropping sides just what Logan wanted.

However, while Patton was doing that, Deceit took one look at the cookies he was holding and sank down. A look of visible relief came over Deceit as he rose back up into his room, as he was able to drop his disguise and welcome back the patch of scales on his face, his snake eye, and even his darker button-up clothing. Logan’s polo was nice but the tie was something that got on his nerves fairly quickly. Opening his mouth to proclaim that he was back, Deceit stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he laid eyes on the figure in his bed and within seconds his face looked like that of Patton’s when he had slammed into his chest.

Logan was there fast asleep in his bed, with his polo shirt neatly folded up with his tie laying on top of it and his jeans folded up right next to them. While he was wearing one of Deceit’s black silken shirts and his snake pajama pants, all while laying right next to Clara who had slithered onto the bed at some point of Logan being asleep. Deceit’s mouth felt all too dry as he shuffled over to the bed. Then after a solid few minutes of pondering about waking Logan up, he simply reached over with one hand still holding the plate of cookies, as he poked the logical side’s shoulder once and then again.

A grunt answered him the first time that he poked Logan, the second time was when a hand came out from under the covers tiredly swatting at him in a pitiful effort to get him to stop.

“I guess you aren’t interested in eating this plate of cookies with me, oh well then.” Deceit slyly smirked as Logan’s head hastily turned to look over at him, and after a moment of fumbling around Logan managed to find his glasses and slide them into place. He looked tired and ruffled in the best way possible.

“Cookies?” Logan muttered, and sitting up in Deceit’s bed he made a simple motion with his hand for Deceit to get on the bed as well. Clara gave a lazy hiss at the jostling she was going through, but upon sticking her tongue out and scenting Deceit, she lazily slithered over to him laying her head on his lap as Deceit passed Logan the plate. Their shoulders brushed together as they sat together, and without even thinking about it Logan rested his temple on Deceit’s shoulder as he plucked a cookie up from the plate.

Deceit though blinked in surprise as he felt the cookie pressing against his lips as Logan held it up for him to eat, glancing down at the logical side he felt his insides turn to mush at the crooked smile that was on display for him and him alone. Without giving it too much thought, Deceit leaned in taking the cookie right from Logan with his teeth before he chomped it down. On his side, he could feel Logan’s laugh shaking the logical side as he picked up another cookie biting into it himself, before he glanced over to the lying side.

“So…” Logan began, his head once again resuming its position by resting on Deceit’s shoulder after he had chewed and swallowed his own cookie, he was hesitant to ask but in the strangest way, he felt that he needed to. “How bad is it?” A part of him already knew the answer to his question, but feeling Deceit stiffening up next to him a sensation of dread bubbled in his stomach.

“Bad?” Deceit began waving it off with a nervous laugh, as if that could somehow downplay everything. “It’s not that bad, in fact, everything is…”

“You don’t have to do that.” Logan cut in, now sitting up a little more so that Deceit would actually look at him, and from the way that the other blinked in confusion as well as surprise, that was when he knew that he had confused the other. “You don’t need to lie to me, I may have..let the emotion get to my head before. But I can take what you tell me, and whatever it is, I won’t get angry at you.” Logan promised, now reaching down and clasping Deceit’s hand like he had seen Patton do to both Roman and Virgil any time they needed comfort for whatever reason. Although judging by the look on Deceit’s face, no one had ever done this for him, and no one had ever assured him of this.

“They broke into your room, and everything is a mess!” Once it was out, it was out and Deceit’s cheek burned a bright pink as the warm of Logan’s hand on his seeped into his skin making it feel all tingly. “I put everything back so it’s all fixed though, so you don’t need to worry.” He hastily assured the logical side, the last thing that he wanted Logan to do was to leave and go back to the others when he was here enjoying some time off from everything that the others constantly threw at him.

If he was being honest, Logan had expected such a thing to happen, pairing Roman who was a fan of grand sweeping gestures with Virgil who had a protective streak a mile long, something like this was bound to happen eventually. In fact, it wasn’t even the first time that Roman had broken into his room, given the infamous exams of Thomas’ senior year, he had learned to take the prince seriously when it came to things like that.

“You’re alright?” Logan seriously asked, his gaze darting over Deceit’s face, “Are you able to handle them for a while longer?” He asked, and watching Deceit straighten his back before earnestly nodding, his worries were momentarily put to ease.

“Then let’s finish up these cookies before you have to go back to being me..how about a movie?” With that one suggestion from Logan, Deceit was over the moon.

Tagged:

@well-love-has-failed-me

@violetmcl

@im-so-infinitesimal

@neko-ereri

@sugermint

@5am-the-foxing-hour

@moonstonefox12

@bibbidi-bobbity-booyah

@unikornavenger

@estraevelyn

@bluebonkherostudent

@ab-artist

@neonb-fly

@snekky-boi

@randomfanderfriend

@fandomsofrandom

#sympathetic deceit #deceit sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #logceit #logeit

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inkribbon796 · 4 years

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Little Wonders Ch. 1

Chapter 1: Let Your Clarity Define You in the End

Summary: Dark goes house cleaning to flush out a dangerous mole in his network.

Chapters: 1, 2

Dark was outside his office, talking with Google when Logan walked out of his office. There were a couple papers in his hands that the Entity was reading through.

“Is this everything?” Dark asked Google as Logan came to stop a non-confrontational distance away. Logan had only been working for Dark for a little over eight months now, but he’d learned enough about him to tell Dark was already in a bad mood. All Logan could do was stand and wait to either be abruptly dismissed from the meeting he was supposed to go to, or for Dark to usher him inside.

“Yes, he wasn’t doing too much before he disappears from Florida state records,” Google answered calmly, his eyes tracking to Logan before smiling and looking back at Dark. “You’re certain I can’t take care of him myself?”

“Bim is in a hunting mood,” Dark refused. “If you’re lucky, you can keep the brain.”

“Unfortunate, but I’ll have to accept it,” Google allowed and then walked away.

“Ahh, Sanders,” Dark gave a small smile as his attention turned to Logan. “I was a bit worried that you had left early.”

“I leave on average at 2200 hours,” Logan commented walking into the office when Dark silently ushered him inside. He slowly closed the door behind him.

“Sit down, I won’t keep you long,” Dark promised, hands knit behind his back as he strode to sit behind his own desk. “I’ve been looking over your notes concerning my Lost One’s files. Some very useful ideas, wish I could still use them.”

“Did something happen?” Logan was braced for the bad news and an even later night.

“Yes, three of my Lost Ones were arrested, and Yancy is on parole,” Dark admitted calmly. “The whole mess was taken care of an hour ago.”

“I didn’t even know you had left,” Logan admitted. “I assume they are none the worse for wear.”

“Apart from Bim’s overdramatics, they’re all fine, the heroes were too busy thinking they were being coerced to start roughing them up,” Dark commented. “I honestly had nothing to worry about.”

“That’s good news,” Logan agreed.

“It is,” Dark replied in a thoughtful, rueful tone. “But the heroes know a bit too much about Yancy, which means we’ve got a bit of a fly on the wall in my network because they know things Yancy never told them.”

Before Logan could fully decide what to say or give options on how to help smooth over the problem, his chair was abruptly spun around which surprised Logan because he hadn’t heard anyone coming up behind him and hadn’t thought the chair was designed to spin.

Even through the distractions, Logan knew he was probably on a short list of suspicious individuals. The person he came face to face with was familiar but not in a way Logan could place.

“Hey Lo,” Orange smiled as he looked at Logan. “Having fun playing dress-up? That’s usually Princey’s thing.”

The Side frowned when he saw the guarded but uncertain look on Logan’s face. “Huh?”

Logan was braced for something, trying to remember where he’d seen this person before.

Dark came up behind them, “Something wrong?”

“He doesn’t remember me,” Orange answered, he took Logan by the lapels of his suit, which Logan immediately and indignantly tried to pull away from him. “Come on, Lo, you know me? Remember?”

“Oh,” Dark recognized, and put his aura on the top of Logan’s head, his aura lightly searching for something until he found it. The Entity pulled off another aura, almost like a mesh of spell work that kept Logan complacent and unaware of what he was doing, and Dark could practically feel the Host’s magic all over it.

As Dark’s aura subsumed the other aura Logan had a disoriented look to him before his laser focus landed on Orange and he startled in his grip. “Unhand me!”

“Nah, you’re already in deep shit, where would you swim to?” Orange grinned, Logan pressed back into the chair as Orange leaned over him, hands on the chair arms.

“Enough,” Dark cut in, using his aura to rotate back to look at Logan. “So, Mr. Sanders, is there any part of your resume that you weren’t lying on?”

“My distain for disorder and puns,” Logan answered.

Dark moved his hand and Logan felt something like a hand on the front of his throat, phantom claws on the soft flesh of his throat. “You of all people should know how I feel about moles, Thomas.”

“What?” Logan was barely able to still talk without claws sinking into his throat. “My name is Logan.”

The pressure in his throat abated for a brief second, but Logan wasn’t allowed to feel much of anything when Dark scored his aura claws down. Logan cried out, his cheek burning with sharp pain, and it felt wet. The Logical Side presumed it was with his own blood. The panicking part of his brain wanted to call out for Patton or Roman, he was acutely aware he wasn’t wearing his communicator.

“AAHHHHHH!” Logan screamed, and Dark physically grabbed Logan by the throat, pinning him to the chair, a bunch of papers in his hands.

“Thomas F. Sanders, date of birth: April 24, 1989. Gainesville, Florida.” Dark began casually reading off the paper and Logan tried to fight off the wave of palpable fear. Dark had gone looking for Logan and found Thomas instead.

Logan wasn’t sure what was worse. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to lie and make Dark believe he really was Thomas . . . and after this was all said and done, hope Dark would toss the papers away and not look deeper into them.

But Dark was always good at spotting lies.

“I am not Thomas,” Logan decided. “He doesn’t exist, Orange, you know my name is not Thomas, do not participate in this pointless charade.”

“Hmm,” Orange hummed, grabbing Logan by the hair and forcing him to look up, “nope, you’re Thomas alright, that dopey optimism, that personality that people can’t help but love!”

“Faksehood!” Logan shouted at Orange. “I am not Thomas.”

Orange slapped Logan on the cheek that was still bleeding. Dark was sitting behind his desk again, the quick change disorienting Logan a bit.

Dark was still looking at the papers, “You never told me you were an actor. A couple Community Playhouse credits in Gainesville, Hot Mikado, ooh, Singing in the Rain. I hate that one.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Orange paused in his sadism to question Dark, his face twisting up in the only Thomas-like display that Logan had ever seen from the other Side.

“I hate actors,” Dark scoffed, balling up an entire page and tossing it into the trash bin. “Wil adores the movie, but Singing is the Rain is about actors, which means I hate it all the more.”

“Harsh,” Orange scoffed. “Bad date?”

Dark glared at Orange, “I’m not going to humor that statement.”

“You know I am not Thomas,” Logan reminded Orange, his anger consuming his fear. “Why are you helping with what I assume will be my death. This will affect you as well.”

“Not as much as you think,” Orange smiled.

“Why are you insisting I’m Thomas?” Logan demanded. “Insisting such is offensive and incognizant.”

“Well unlike the others who want to fight over that name, Princey’s got all those social skills, and Pop’s is an emotional basket case. But you,” Orange tapped Logan on the nose, “have all those memories like going to school, Thomas’s folks, stuff like that. So if anything happens to those pesky little things, Thomas will die. Even if all the others fuse and try, they’ll never have those memories. Even if Princey rehearses until he believes his own performance they can’t bring them back. So if you die, it’s a win-win.”

Logan had been listening to Orange gloat and jeer and he hated that he had the gall to wear Thomas’s face while he said it. So he did something impulsive in his pain and anger, he spat in Orange’s face, moving to punch him but Orange was faster, slamming his fist into Logan’s face.

Over and over again.

The other Side was trying to get at the bloody scratches already present. In the scuffle Logan’s glasses were knocked free and Orange stomped on them, almost like a pained connection, Logan felt it when he heard the frame crack.

“You know, I’m sick and tired of Thomas this and Thomas that. News flash, Teach, he would have hated and been afraid of me. Why should I want to go back to that, to being so thoroughly buried I may as well have now existed to him? The best thing that ever happened to me was when he was broken apart and I was taken away from you.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dark cut in, his aura wrapped around one of Orange’s arms. What Logan couldn’t see because of his destroyed glasses, was the knife he’d pulled. “I need him alive for a bit longer and you’ve said your peace.”

“I thought you were going to off him,” Orange scoffed.

“Not quite yet,” Dark flicked his wrists and a Void portal ripped open, forcing Orange from the room.

“So, Logan,” a dark shape moved in front of Logan’s vision again as Dark sat down in front of him. He heard a tearing of paper.

“Regardless of who you were,” Dark clipped what remained of Logan’s glasses to the front of his shirt. “It’s time for you to choose, Sanders. The heroes, or me.”

“I think my decision would have been obvious,” Logan told him. “You and your network are deplorable and I have greatly enjoyed my work in helping to dismantle it.”

Dark clicked his tongue, “Regrettable.”

Logan felt Dark aura tighten around him and the chair like a snake and Logan just braced to get his neck snapped. He hoped it would be quick and he wouldn’t feel it.

To Logan’s mounting tension he was pulled through a Void portal and Dark was bringing him down what seemed to be a dark corridor. Logan had the ability to gaze around and wished that he could see where he was. It looked interesting.

“Trying to figure out where you are,” Dark mused proudly.

“My habit is to obtain information on new places or experiences,” Logan explained.

“Well,” Dark sounded smug, “no need to bother with that tonight.”

At that moment Dark caught movement down one of the tunnels and he threw his aura to scare the creature or person off. Logan tensed when he felt Dark’s aura curl up around him before the Entity struck.

“I hate the rats around here, I swear the magic from that old hag makes them grow bigger by the day,” Dark scoffed in disgust.

“You are going to have me eaten?” Logan asked tensely, fear bubbling back up onto his mind.

“Not by the rats,” Dark corrected. Dark opened a steel door, his aura moving into the cracks to open it from the inside, the rusted gears grinding loudly.

“Finally!” Bim shouted when the door opened, he was polishing his already immaculate scalpels and knives. Dark noted the darker eyes, sharper teeth, and almost sunken eyes. “I’m starving here, Old Man.”

“Yes, I merely had to pick him up for you,” Dark set Logan’s chair down, his hands on his shoulders. “He meets your outrageous standards, I hope.”

Bim looked at Logan and smiled and ravenous excitement, “Oh, what did he do?”

“Does he work or should I slit his throat now and be done with it?” Dark demanded harshly, the door being locked and sealed behind them.

“Yeah, yeah, just let me get the table open,” Bim said, and Logan heard the clicking of metal, his heart was racing.

“Well Sanders, I look forward to seeing which hero is missing in the coming weeks,” Dark smiled as he whispered quietly into Logan’s ears, patting him once on his shoulder.

Logan felt Dark’s aura grab him and began fighting it, trying to reach for anything but Dark dropped him onto a metal table. His wrists locked into a tight metal cuff at the top and his ankles locked into a similar cuff at the bottom. He had almost no room to struggle.

“Do not leave evidence,” Dark ordered his progeny. “The heroes will come looking for this one.”

“Shit, it’s like this is my first rodeo,” Bim scoffed.

“I mean it, be responsible,” Dark ordered and Logan heard the Void being ripped open, leaving him alone with Bim.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Thomas Sanders #Markiplier #Logan Sanders #Darkiplier #Googleplier #Orange Side #Bim Trimmer #magic #death threats #angst #resentment

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