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i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 3 years

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A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

Medieval AU

Princess Y/N Stark of York New must marry a man chosen by her brother, by the time she is 21. Her brother's council have the perfect man in mind, one that is terrifying and hell bent on having his Queen. But Princess Y/N's heart belongs to another, and luckily so does her hand in marriage.

'A princess is far more powerful than a king, my love. You have the power of merging families and kingdoms. You have the power of carrying hopeful heirs to the throne. You have more power than you know...'

Bold italics are flashbacks.

Series warnings: swearing, medieval views on women, arranged marriage, smut, bloodshed, violence, 18+ readers only

Part warnings: talk of arranged marriage

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

<Part 1 <

Part 2

"The Princess is missing! The Princess is missing! Alert the King and Queen! Assemble the Knights."

The door to your chambers burst open before multiple sets of feet raced into the room.

"Princess!" Lady Wanda cried out as she and Lady Natasha ran up to your bed, "Princess!" Your ladies-in-waiting grabbed your bedcovers and drew them back off you, uncovering your head and causing you to groan from the sudden brightness, "Princess Morgana is-"

"In her bed." Lady Natasha sighed. "I'll tell the guards to stop panicking." Natasha picked up her skirts and quickly left your chambers.

You groaned again, opening one of your eyes. "What's going on?"

Wanda tutted, "The castle is in chaos thinking that Little Princess here, is missing." She smiled down at the sleeping four-year-old that was beside you. "Why is she in here again, Your Highness?"

You let out a soft sigh as you carefully slipped out of your bed, accepting your robe from Wanda. "Not sure. But it's every night this week." You looked towards her, sitting down in one of the armchairs that sit in your chambers. "Is breakfast on the way up, I am starved." You rubbed your hand over your tummy as it growled.

"Oh, His Majesty has asked for you to join him and the Queen, along with the Little Princess and Sir Peter."

You nodded, "Very well. I'll bathe first, if I may?" Wanda nodded. You smiled and stood from the chair. You glanced at Morgana. "I'll take Morgana back to her chambers."

"Your Highness, are you sure? Natasha will be back shortly."

You shook your head as you approached your bed. "I'm sure, Wanda. I wouldn't wish the wrath of the sleepy Princess on anyone." You teased before gently shaking Morgana awake. "Rise and shine, Little Princess."

After successfully taking Morgana back to her chambers and to her nanny, you returned back to your own chambers to bathe and dress for the day before joining the King and Queen for breakfast.

"Goodmorning," You greeted everyone as you walked into the great hall.

"Goodmorning, Y/N. Sleep well?" Pepper gave a pointed look towards her daughter making you chuckle.

You sat in between your brother and Peter. "I did. I hope neither of you was worried by our Little Princess' escape?"

Tony let out a heavy sigh as he placed some fruit onto his plate. "Not after the third night of her doing so." He grumbled.

Peter chuckled softly, "At least you won't have that trouble tonight."

Morgana's head shot up from her own fruit. "Why not?" She asked with a small pout. Her head barely visible over the table due to her size.

"Y/N and Peter won't be here, Sweetpea. Remember?" Pepper smiled.

Morgana frowned, "Where are they you going, mother?"

"We're going to Brook, remember? To visit King Steven." You smiled as you buttered your bread.

"Oh," Morgana's brow furrowed as she thought.

"So, dear brother, why the sudden need to have breakfast with all of us?" You asked as you looked up.

"Can I not just want to eat with my family before two of you go off for weeks?" He scoffed dramatically as he picked up a blueberry and popped it into his mouth.

You stared at him in silence, not believing a word he was saying.

Pepper rolled her eyes at her husband's poor attempt of vaguing innocence. "Anthony, you know you can not lie to her," She smirked knowingly making you grin.

Tony scoffed, "Thank you for reminding me, Pep." Tony rolled his eyes, only a little irritated by his wife.

"You are most welcome, my love." Pepper gave both you and Peter a wink as you shared a laugh.

Tony glared playfully at her before he turned his attention back to you. "The purpose of breakfast this morning was so we could discuss your upcoming birthday."

"My birthday?" Your brows knitted together in confusion. "But there is another six months before it."

Tony nodded, "Yes, there is. But, there's the matter of finding you a husband before." He frowned whilst playing with his breakfast. "I'm sorry, Y/N," He whispered.

Silence settled over the table as everyone waited for your reaction, knowing how you felt about the subject of an arranged marriage for your 21st birthday.

"Oh," Your bottom lip pouted as you sat back in your chair. "Have you already chosen? Or are the council still debating who will be the better man to 'beat the respect' into me?" Your pout suddenly turned into a glare.

"Y/N, please," Pepper scolded lightly. "I understand your feelings about this subject but do be careful with your words." She looked down to Morgana with a worried look.

"My apologies."

Tony sighed and placed his hand over the top of yours that was on top of the table. "Please believe me when I say I will not allow them to have any say in this." He reassured you with a squeeze of his hand, "And I most certainly will not allow anyone, to hurt you."

"Me neither," Peter whispered as he leaned into you. "And I'm sure you'll be able to give any bastard a run for his money." He teased making you grin.

"Peter," Pepper scolded, putting a smile on your face.

Although Pepper wasn't a mother to either of you or Peter, she was very motherly towards the two of you. She cared for and loved you as if you were her own children.

"Take a look at this," Tony handed you a piece of parchment.

You looked down at the piece of parchment with multiple names written on. "What is it?"

"A list of possible suitors and eligible men. I thought I'd give you the chance to have your input." He smiled at you.

Your eyes lit up, "You mean I get to decide?"

Tony rolled his eyes dramatically. "Didn't I just say what you get?" He smirked as he reached forwards again and tapped your hand.

You grinned whilst looking at the names. "Thank you, Tony."

He shook his head holding his hand up. "Don't thank me yet, Y/N... You get one month to make your choice."

"Then what?" You asked with a soft frown.

"I have to narrow that list down. Your marriage will help us strengthen our ties with another kingdom," He sighed deeply.

Your eyebrows furrowed deeper as you looked over the names. "King Thor... Prince Loki? King T'Challa..." Your eyes lit up curiously, "King Steven? I thought he'd vowed never to marry again?"

"Uh... that's just to, thicken out the numbers." Tony cleared his throat.

"KING BROCK!" You snapped, your eyes were wide with anger and panic.

Morgana let out a loud gasp. She quickly scuttled off her chair and ran around the table to your side. "Come with me. Please. I have to show you something. Please," She tugged on your dress before dashing off, leaving no room to argue with her.

You let out a heavy sigh pushing yourself up from the table, "He best be to 'thicken out the numbers' also." You whispered. "Peter, let the stables know we leave right after breakfast is finished, please."

Peter nodded with a soft sigh as he met Pepper's worried gaze. "Of course, Your Highness,"

You followed after Morgana quickly as you left the great hall, "Morgana, what is the matter?"

"You're not safe," She called out over her shoulder, not bothering to stop as the two of you passed guards.

You followed her all the way to her chambers where she finally stopped to take a breather before she went to her toy box. You watched her carefully as she retrieved her wooden sword.

There weren't many little princesses with a 'boys' toy, but Tony wasn't interested in stopping Morgana from learning the skills she was interested in. He always knew she'd take after you, you were her hero after all, and if you could strike a sword as good as some of his best knights and shoot arrows to hit perfectly centre of the bullseye, then so was Morgana.

"Take this. It will keep you safe." Morgana held the wooden sword for you to take.

"But I am, safe." You smiled as you took the sword from her tiny hands.

She shook her head with a solemn look in her eye. "You will be with this." She nodded.

"Very well," You sheathed the wooden sword through the golden chain that was around your waist before bowing in front of her. "It would be my greatest pleasure, Your Highness." You grinned as she started giggling.

"Your Highness," A guard stood in the doorway of Morgana's room, "Your carriage is ready."

"Thank you," You smiled politely before you turned back to Morgana, "Come now, Little Princess, I must leave."

She nodded with a sadden look as she took your hand. "I will miss you,"

"Good... I will miss you." You smiled down at her. "Come on. Shall we race?"

"DEAL!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Thankfully the ride to Brook was no longer than a day's riding. You were glad, you weren't sure you could handle anything longer. Being left alone with your thoughts and worries of your upcoming nuptials was like a nightmare. Although you weren't really alone, Peter was beside you shifting uncomfortably with the need to say something and Natasha and Wanda were unusually quiet.

"Oh for heaven's sake." You huffed, turning to look at Peter. "Spit it out, Peter."

"I'm afraid you've lost me, Princess." Peter shifted again, looking out the window.

"Do not treat me as an idiot, Peter. I know when you are biting your tongue, and I know when you think Anthony is right." You frowned deeply at him.

Peter groaned, "Permission to speak freely?" You nodded, "I believe you should have given His Majesty a chance to explain. You should know more than anyone that he would not do anything he did not believe was right."

You scoffed, "Always quick to defend him."

"He is our King," Peter argued.

"Not when it comes to this." You snapped. "He promised me I wouldn't be sent away." You sniffled as tears blurred your vision.

"He's not sending you away. You know this must happen, Y/N." Peter placed his hand on top of yours. "He would not let anyone hurt you... His Majesty, loves you, Princess. Why do you think he's given you the chance to have your say. Use it,"

You scoffed, "Damn you..." You wiped your nose on the back of your hand.

"Princess, please," Natasha scolded you as she handed you a handkerchief.

You accepted the handkerchief and wiped your nose. "Deep down I know Tony wouldn't do anything he didn't think was right... but, that one name..." You looked up to meet Peter's equally worried gaze.

Peter nodded, "I know."

You'd both heard the rumours over the years of the type of leader and man King Brock was. It was terrifying to listen to the tales.

You smiled softly as you placed your other hand on top of his, "I'm sorry, Peter."

"Oh my." Wanda began to fan her face as she fainted dramatically onto Natasha. "The Princess apologising. What next?"

"Hush," You giggled. You turned to look out the window at the passing scenery, letting out a breath of air. You reached up and banged the roof with your fist, "Driver?" You called out.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"How long until we reach the castle?" You inquired.

"Less than an hour, give or take, Your Highness."

You smiled to yourself. "Would you please stop the carriage?" You asked in a polite manner.

"Yes, Your Highness." The driver answered and slowly stopped the carriag

"Princess?" Peter frowned at you confused.

You smiled over your shoulder as you opened the door, "I wish to ride horseback the rest of the way."

"I don't think that is a good idea, Princess." Wanda gave you a worried look.

You took the hand of a knight and with a thank you, you stepped out. "That is why we must do it." You giggled. "Come, Peter, we shall race."

Peter rolled his eyes with a playful grin as he followed after you. "As you wish, but do not think I will be easy on you."

Natasha scoffed playfully, "You are a fool if you think she will not beat you." She winked at you before closing the door behind her. "That boy still has much to learn,"

Wanda hummed, "All men do,"

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frank-ieros-lip-ring · 2 years

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Frank + Beanz

Here's a fluff I wrote and posted on Wattpad just to show y'all I don't just write smut.

// Tw // Mild violence and bullying

Bullets Frank x Gender Neutral Reader

Italics- flashback memory

" Hey Y/N, do you remember when we first met? " Frank, your adorable little boyfriend, asks. He's curled up next to you, his arms around your waist and looking up at you with his beautiful hazel eyes. You're sitting in the back of My Chemical Romance's van with all the guys, on your way to a show. " Of course I do baby, how can I forget the day I met the best thing that had ever happened to me? " you smile warmly down at him. He blushes and hides his face in your chest.

It's only the third day of school at your new middle school. Starting middle school is hard enough. Starting middle school in a new town is even harder. You don't know anyone. As you walk down the hall to your morning class you see a small boy, your age, being bullied by some eighth grader. " Hey, leave him alone! " you shout as the bully shoves the boy against a locker. The bully turns his head. " And who's gonna make me? " he sneers. " Me. " you say with confidence. He just laughs. You walk over to him, filled with rage. You feel bad for the boy. He's helpless and defenceless. It's such an unfair fight. You walk up behind the bully and pull him off of the boy. " I said leave him alone. " you hiss in his face as you shove him away from you. He stumbles backwards and trips. The bully gets up and gives you the finger as he stalks away from the two of you. The young boy is sitting in a fetal position, looking up at you with fear. You notice he has the most striking, hazel eyes. " Hi, I'm Y/N. " you say, holding a hand out to the small boy to help him up. " I'm Frank. Thank you for helping me but y'know he's just gonna come back when you're gone. " he says, gazing at the floor. " No, he's not. You know why? Because I'm gonna be with you. I'll make sure he never hurts you again Frankie. I promise. " you say, pulling your new friend into a tight hug. The two of you are inseparable from then on.

" Remember when you finally grew the balls to ask me out? " you laugh. Frank once again turns a shade of pink.

You had known since they day you met the shy boy that he had a hopless crush on you. You were going to end up doing a lot for Frank. This was something you couldn't do for him. You wanted him to do this for himself.

It's your grade eight graduation. You and Frank refused to dress up and instead are wearing band tees of your favourite punk bands and jeans. You have a backpack on your back as well. You and Frank look at eachother, smiling, before bursting into the auditorium dramatically. The two of you are purposely late and come in during the valedictorian speech. The speech stops and everyone turns to stare at you and him as you strut down the aisle to your seats, laughing.

Over the last three years Frank has grew a lot more confident. You've rubbed off on him. He still is very shy but when you first met him there was no way in hell he would pull a stupid stunt like this with you.

" I honestly didn't think you were gonna follow through and do it with me. " you smirk at the memory. " Hey, I wasn't a chicken. " Frank says sounding offended. You burst out laughing. " Oh really now? " you say, raising an eyebrow. Frank blows a raspberry at you before returning to cuddling you. You roll your eyes and take his hand, rubbing your thumb lightly over top.

You take your seat but not before standing on it, cupping your hands to your mouth and yelling, " My most sincere apologies to everyone for interrupting this momentous occasion! Please do carry on! "

You don't know why but using fancy words you barely understood seemed fitting for the situation.The valedictorian continues with their speech.

You sit down and look at Frank, who looks like he wants to disappear, and start to laugh. His supply of confidence must of run out for the day. The people infront and behind you all 'shh' you. You throw your hands up in defense, apologizing repeatedly, without actually meaning it.

It's time for the graduates to line up to receive their diplomas and Frank stand together at the back of the line even though you all should be lined up in alphabetical order by your last name. You and Frank end up in an argument over what the best Sex Pistols song is. Your name is called to receive you diploma twice before someone taps your shoulder to let you know it's your turn. " Fuck, gotta go. See you on the other side Frankie. You got this. " you say, squeezing his hand, before running on stage. You feel bad for leaving him all alone because you know how nervous he is without you.

" I was terrified when you left. I didn't want to go. " Frank whispers, reliving the event. " Awe baby, but you did. And you did great. You looked like everybody else. Just some kid graduating and entering the next stage in their life. " you say reassuringly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You skip out on stage, smiling widely, waving to everyone and blowing kisses. Your homeroom teacher rolls their eyes and hands you your diploma. You pull them into a huge hug before going to shake your principal's hand. When they stick their hand out you go to take it but sike them out, just walking off stage.

Soon enough you see Frank timidly step out on stage. You give him a big smile and thumbs up. He sends a nervous grin back. He does the exact opposite as you and quietly takes his diploma and does as he should. He comes down to meet you and instead of returning to your seats, you take Frank's hand and the two of you just walk out of the auditorium for the last time. Before leaving you turn around and yell " So long and good night! " with a final bow.

" Well, we sure did go out with a bang. " You say. You smile down at Frank curled up at your side. " God, you're adorable Frankie. And out of everyone you could have chosen you pick me, of all people, to be with. I don't deserve you. " You sigh. Frank furiously shakes his head. " Don't say it like that. I need you. Without you I'm a mess. " he whines, gripping you even tighter like he's scared you're going to just up and leave him at any time.

" Well, I'm gonna miss that shit hole. " you say, mocking sadness. Frank giggles. " Why don't we go to our little hidey hole Frankie? " you ask Frank. " Hell yeah! " he says with a wide smile. Your favourite hangout spot is the underpass Frank named ' the hidey hole ' last year when you first discovered it. It's not too far from the school. Maybe about two blocks away.

" Remember the hidey hole?! " you ask, All of a sudden grabbing Frank excitedly. Frank gasps as he remembers and nods his head violently. " We gotta go back and visit soon. I wonder if our tags are still there? " you wonder.

You reach your destination and it's getting dark out. " Ooo, it looks creepy in the dark. " you grin. " Yeah. " Frank says looking at you with a spark of enthusiasm in his eye. The two of you absolutely love anything spooky or dark. There is a single light in the underpass and it keeps flickering, giving both of you horror movie vibes. You plop down on the ground and Frank sits next to you. You pull out a bag of candy and give him some. You sit there for a while having meaningless conversations about absolutely nothing at all. The concrete walls of the underpass are littered with graffiti. It gives you an idea.

You pull out some paint cans you shoved in there at some point. You can't remember when or why you put them in there. You get up and walk over to the only clear spot on the wall and shake a blue can. You take a second to think of a tag name because you obviously can't use your real name. Then it hits you. ' Frank + Beanz '.

" What you doing? " Frank asks curiously. " You'll see. Come here a sec. " you say, calling him over. He walks over and you hand him a red spray can. " Write your name. I want people to know that we were here. I want this to be ' our ' spot. " you tell him. " Shouldn't I use a different name? " he asks nervously. " Don't worry, I have an idea. " you say mischievously. Frank signs his name on the wall and then you take your blue can, squat down and add the ' + Beanz ' underneath in pretty cursive.

Frank tilts his head, thinking deeply, as he watches you work. You get up and turn to look at Frank. " What ya looking at? " you laugh at the expression on his face. His eyebrows are all scrunched up like he's considering something. " N-nothing. " he stutters, snapping out of his temporary daze. " Come on, I know you're lying. Now tell me, what were you thinking about? " you press on. Frank takes a deep, shaky breath. " I-, uh, I've wanted to ask you this for a long time but I just- I, uh, didn't know how to. " he says, avoiding your eyes and fidgeting with his fingers. You know exactly what he was going to say. You take a step closer to Frank so there are only a few inches between you and him. " Will you go out with me? " he whispers. As an answer, you grab his face and kiss him, catching him by surprise.

" The look on your face was priceless when I kissed you. " you laugh. Frank blushes. " You have no idea how long I waited for you to ask. I have loved you since the day I saw you pinned against that locker. I knew I would make you mine and protect you from harm. I love you my delicate little pansy. " you say, tilting his chin up gently so you can give him a soft kiss.

#frank iero fanfic #frank iero x reader #frank iero #bullets frank iero #my fic

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 10

Chapter: 10/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: "I'm the scary one," Remus muttered in Janus' ear. "Not you. So don't ever scare me like that again, okay?" Janus considered the humor-to-consequences ratio of falling limp in Remus' arms and decided it wouldn't be worth it. "I won't."

If it all falls down, falls down, falls down

I can warm a crowd, I can make them shout

I can juggle verbs, adverbs, and nouns

I can make them dance 'til they all fall down

Janus woke up exhausted, which really wasn't fair considering the amount that he'd been sleeping lately.

Someone was stroking his hair, which was nice. Probably Remus. Remus wouldn't care that Janus' hair was stiff with dried sweat and that he hadn't brushed his teeth in who even knew how many days.

He shifted and nuzzled Remus' thigh.

Realization dawned slowly. Remus' nails were longer than this, Remus didn't smell like this, Remus had never sat still like this.

Janus couldn't even bring himself to be embarrassed at the mix-up. He was too tired and sore to really care who was petting his hair like this.

Except that it was probably Patton.

Subconsciously, Janus pulled the teddy bear closer to his chest. It had to be subconscious, because he would never cuddle a stuffed toy on purpose.

Janus opened his eyes.

Patton withdrew his hand like he'd been burned. "I'm sorry," he said, cheeks coloring. "Did I wake you up?"

Janus shook his head. His skin still tingled where Patton had touched him and he wanted it back so badly , but he didn't know how to ask.

"Remus made me promise I'd go get him next time you woke up. Well. Logan made me promise. Remus threatened me. Anyway!" Patton was already halfway to the door.

He was gone before Janus found his voice. "Don't go," Janus whispered to the air.

A moment later, Remus came barreling in with Logan in hot pursuit. Then came Virgil, then Patton again, and finally Roman.

Logan lunged forward to try to catch the back of Remus' shirt, but he was just a split second too late. Janus braced for impact, but Remus only fell on his knees by the bedside and pulled Janus into a tight hug.

"Awww," Patton cooed from the doorway.

"I'm the scary one," Remus muttered in Janus' ear. "Not you. So don't ever scare me like that again, okay?"

Janus considered the humor-to-consequences ratio of falling limp in Remus' arms and decided it wouldn't be worth it. "I won't."

Remus pulled back and made a lewd hand gesture. "Scout's honor?"

Janus manipulated Remus' fingers into the correct position and held his own hand up as well. "Scout's honor."

Remus nodded in apparent satisfaction, so Janus grabbed his shoulder and used it to haul himself upright. Virgil and Patton fidgeted by his desk while Roman leaned against the doorway and Logan hovered behind Remus.

"Well," Janus said, trying to sound better than he felt. "As you can see, I've died. Virgil will handle my estate, so please direct your concerns to him."

"Like I want all your pretentious steampunk crap," Virgil mumbled, looking around at the leather and brass and hardwood.

"It's art deco," Janus and Logan said at the same time, albeit with very different intonation.

Janus squinted at Logan, who seemed to take this as his cue to speak. "You need to eat something."

"Like a dick!" Remus crowed.

Janus sighed, expecting an uproar, but nothing more dramatic than general collective eye-rolling and awkward throat-clearing occurred in response.

Logan carried on, "Something light like chicken broth or dry toast." He cocked an eyebrow, indicating that this was a question.

"Goodness, however shall I choose," Janus said, trying and failing to keep the venom out of his voice. He did better on stage than he did under a microscope, yet here everyone was, studying him. It was all he could do not to squirm.

Patton's voice echoed in his ears suddenly:

He never asks for anything, he just talks around it until you figure it out on your own.

"Could you…" Janus balled both hands into fists. "I want…" He squeezed his eyes shut and expelled a breath through his nose."I just love that you're all in here staring at me. It's not awkward at all. " He fixed his gaze on the ceiling, only just managing to hold back a frustrated curse. Another failure. Another reason for the others to go back to hating him.

"Oh, gosh!" Patton said, but he didn't sound hurt or angry. "We're sorry; it's probably overwhelming to have us all in here at once, huh?"

Janus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The feeling had grown uncomfortably familiar as of late.

"We'll let Logan look you over," Patton said. He shuffled out of the room after Roman, waving for Virgil to follow him.

Remus winked and wiggled his tongue at Janus. "Have fun playing doctor." He bounded out and shut the door behind him.

"So," Janus said, fidgeting with one of the teddy bear's ears. "He and Roman can stand to be in the same room as each other now?"

"It helps that they were both quite worried about you," Logan said. A pause. "As was I." He preoccupied himself clearing off a space on Janus' nightstand, willing a plate of dry toast into existence, then methodically taking the cap off a bottle of Gatorade and inserting a white bendy straw.

"Plastic straws are killing the sea turtles, you know," Janus said.

Logan looked at him, puzzled. "Rest assured, this one will not and indeed, cannot find its way into the water supply." A moment later he said, "Oh. You were making a joke."

"It's polite to laugh."

"Please excuse my rudeness, then."

Janus smiled. "I think Remus likes you," he said to cut the tension.

Logan tilted his head at the nightstand. "Why?"

Janus took the hint and began pulling the crust off a piece of toast. "I just have a feeling."

"Hm." Logan thinned his lips, but did not press the issue.

"Logan?"

"Yes?"

"What happened? When I was…"

"Incapacitated?"

"Sure."

Logan pushed up his glasses. "You were in a state of delirium for approximately five days. What is the last thing you remember?"

"Clearly? I had a conversation with Patton about… certain choices I had made in regards to Roman." Logan raised an eyebrow but did not interrupt. "It gets hazy after that. You and Patton were in my room, I think. And… I'm not totally sure this happened, but I seem to recall trying to apologize to Roman."

Logan nodded. "You did. Then you fainted in his room, and the ensuing chaos actually led to the temporary resolution of several interpersonal conflicts we had been experiencing."

"Just according to plan," Janus said, steepling his fingers. Logan didn't laugh. "Another joke."

"Please eat your toast."

"Alright, alright." Janus finished picking the crust off one slice and took a hesitant bite.

"Good." Logan nodded in approval. "To further answer your question, Remus has enacted a truce with Patton, Roman, and Virgil. Which essentially means that he agreed to 'tone down' his more distracting behaviors and the others would refrain from, ah…" Logan checked his note cards. "'Getting their strawberry-flavored edible panties in a twist'."

Janus nearly choked on his toast and made a hasty grab for the Gatorade. "How sweet."

"Yes, the sugar content of Blue Cherry Gatorade is regrettably rather high-- Oh. Yes, I suppose it was rather nice of everyone. Virgil also ceased his self-isolation for the sake of seeing you and talked a little about his feelings, as did Roman."

"Hmph." Janus shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth so he wouldn't have to talk. It had been his goal to fix everything, but not quite like this. Not at all like this, actually. He had become another piece on the chessboard, and not even a powerful piece like the queen. No, he was more like a bishop, moving laterally to move forward. And now he had no idea how to get what he wanted.

"Interestingly," Logan said. "I believe it was your involuntary display of vulnerability that led the others to treat each other more gently.

"I get it, I'm the hero," Janus said sourly. Hooray, he'd solved Patton's problems by running around like an idiot. How impressive.

"I was… I was trying to make you feel better."

Janus smiled despite himself. "Thank you. Really."

"Something is bothering you," Logan said. "I can't tell what it is. I had thought you might feel embarrassed, but you are handling matters very calmly, despite the fact that you have a tendency to raise your voice and lash out when agitated or threatened. This leads me to believe you are experiencing a different negative emotion, but I cannot identify what it is or why." Logan paused and cleared his throat, his eyes downcast. "This bothers me because you are my friend."

"I couldn't possibly be tired," Janus snapped, realizing a split second later he'd inadvertently proven Logan's point. "Oh."

Janus sighed and flicked over his metaphorical king, albeit in his own way. "I'm not thinking about all the ways a relationship with Patton could go horribly wrong."

"But you have a relationship with Patton--" Logan's eyes widened. "I see. Are you concerned that your feelings are unrequited?"

"Well, that and the opposite."

"I don't follow."

"Virgil told me that if I break Patton's heart, he'll break me . Literally."

"You're afraid of Virgil ?"

Janus ran his fingers over his temple and took in a breath while he waited for Logan to put the pieces together.

"You're afraid you'll hurt Patton."

"I'm not exactly known for my communication skills."

"Have you tried speaking sincerely instead of hiding your intentions with sarcasm?"

"No , the thought has never crossed my mind."

Logan smiled. "It was a joke."

Janus didn't hiss at him.

Logan continued, "I do think you should try to be honest with Patton."

"Easier said than done."

"But it can be done."

"I'll...think about it." Janus waved a hand to dismiss the topic.

#spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: if it all falls down - jimmy buffett

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awakeshedreams · 6 years

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Helping Hand {2}

Prompt: “what are you waiting for?”

Summary: You’re used to helping people and you enjoy doing so. However when a friend asks for something your heart heavily accepts, you find the will to be selfish for once in your life and get what you’ve always wanted- who you want, even if it’s just for a moment.

Pairing: Jungkook×Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut. College!AU. Friends to Lovers!AU

Wordcount: 4.5K

Warning: sex lol ?

A/N: KKSSRY SORRY :( better later than never right ? Anyways here's the second part have a nice day and enjoy! Thank you for the responses on the last one, means alot 💜 I'd like some feed back on this one too if you have time thank you 💜 ps my laptop is acting up so I had to post this on mobile so I can't add 'read more' im so sorry :(

*italics=flashback

1 . 2

You're running so fast down the hall, sneakers squeaking with every pressure of your feet against marbled floor.

Your lungs burn and your eyes sting but it doesn't matter. You can’t stop running, you won’t stop running. Not until you get to him. You need to see him. But are you ready for it though? The realisation dawns on you and you slow down a little, hesitant as your sudden rush of excitement dies down, reality and fear taking its place.

But it’s too late, because as you bump into a broad solid chest and almost fall over only to be rescued by a strong arm encased around your waist that has you looking into deep dark eyes you had begun to miss and longed to look into, a conversation you shared with Mia not too long before resurfaces in your thoughts and you find yourself fisting the fabric of his shirt.

You exhale and inhale deeply, sweaty palms gripping the doorknob as you gulp. All you have to do is get pass this door, into the bathroom and apologize. Easy.

“You can do this Y/N.” You chant again for the nth time and the more you say it the less effective it is. You’ve been standing in front of the toilet door for over 5 minutes. Luckily no-one else has come to use the loo because it'd look weird as hell having you just stand there when you could just walk in. But you’re scared. You’re not sure of what. You've said so yourself that you don't mind what choice she makes, you don’t deserve to ask for more. You're lucky if she even as much says anything to you. But still there’s a churn in your belly that tells you that this is not going to end or proceed as expected.

Shaking your thoughts away you finally push the door open and step into toilet. You find her there, applying her favourite lip gloss through the reflection. You stiffen when her eyes jump to you before she resumes her duty, wiping off some around the edges.The silence is toe curling and so you decide to finally speak; “We need to talk.”

She pauses, squinting her eyes before turning around to face you with her arms crossed, "I know you fucked Jungkook.” Your face reddens as you grip your bag handle tight, lips ajar.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you manage to say and you watch her eyes narrow as she huffs. This is so not like her but maybe if she ended fucking the guy you like after he lowkey rejected you right after your date you wouldn’t be yourself too.

“You know Y/N, I never expected you to be such a whore.” You stumble back slightly at her words, throat going dry. Ouch. “Come on, fucking the guy you knew I liked? You're the last person I expected to do that. I trusted that you would be-useful to me but you ended up stabbing me in the back. I really hate you Y/N.”

“I know what I did is wrong and you don’t have to accept my apology but I'm sorry. I just- I don’t even know."

“It doesn’t matter. I guess I’ll just do things on my own and get Jungkook by myself. You weren’t of any help.” She throws her hair over her shoulder with a sigh as she grabs her bag on the sink and leaving the toilet. Wait. Did she just say... “Mia, you were using me just to get with Jungkook?” you catch up to her, grasping her arm. You don’t care at how she eyes your hold on her with disgust as anger and confusion brews in your being. “Answer me.”

“Yeah. I was. I was using you to get with Jungkook.” She admits annoyed, wiping her arm when you let go of her but you don’t catch that over dramatic display of hatred. Your heart sinks to your feet.

“Mia..." You croak out as your eyes begin to tear up. You thought you lost Mia the night you lost Jungkook, but there was an inkling of hope in you. However now learning this it feels like you’ve lost her, your friend, twice. And it has an ugly twist forming in your belly.

“Don’t act all hurt. I should be the one who is hurt. Y/N, you have no idea how shit you’ve made things for me and Jungkook.” She shakes her head as she clenches her fist and glares at you.

“Mia, I know I fucked up and I’m sorry for sleeping wit-"

“Not that. Even since before.” She scoffs and you furrow your brows. What is she talking about. “Before you and Jungkook met, we were dating for 6 months.” The information settles in slowly, but surely. And soon your small heart is filled with so many overwhelming emotions welling up in you. Jungkook was actually in the longest relationship term you've ever seen him be in before he met you and it was with Mia. You didn't know that. You feel so deceived, Mia said she didn’t know Jungkook and Jungkook pretended not to know her. What happened? What created such a hostile air in between them and what caused they’re break up?

“Suddenly you came around. It was because of you.” She seethes and you’re more confused than ever, did she just answer the questions in your head?

“What do you mean?”

“You. He started caring for you. He literally only knew you for a month and he was so relaxed with you... do you know how hard it was for me to get him to open up to me even just a little? And you had him wrapped around your little finger in one fucking month? Someone like you?” You don’t manage to answer, just looking at the ground as you fiddle with your fingers. It looks like you had done her more wrong than you knew you have. “I got jealous . I mean who wouldn't get jealous? I did, so thought I'd make him jealous too. I fucked his friend.” She says with no remorse but you can tell she wish she had never done it because she obviously would do as much as faking a friendship for months just to get him back.

“And it’s all because of you. You know the moment we had an argument, he ran straight to you? God sometimes I wish you would just disappear. I don’t even know what Jungkook see’s in you to like you that much.” How did she know that Jungkook liked you? You doubt she was standing outside the room when he confessed or that he told her.

“He told me that night at the date.” She confirms and you gape at her. Oh. "He told me to stay away from you because he knows what I'm doing, he said that he won’t forgive me again if anything happens to you, can you believe him? He’s such a prick!” she groans and while she is going through it your heart is fluttering, he talked of you like that?

“He really likes me...” you deadpan, forgetting Mia's presence and it bothered her as she clicks her tongue but you’re not paying attention to her. Jungkook really likes you and you just shut him off.

You’ve apologized to Mia and now that that is out of the way, you need to get things with Jungkook right for once and for all.

“Mia, again I’m sorry. I need to go.” You sincerely say one more time before you zoom off, leaving a stunned Mia standing there.

“Y/N?” Jungkook breathes out, his face barely inches away from yours, your chests pressed flush against each other as you gaze into each others eyes. So many words are being exchanged through a simple look of the eye, words neither of you know how to convey verbally.

“Jungkook, I-" you thoughts get stuck in your throat and you feel your eyes tear up. You were the one who cut him off but you were crying.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he furrows his brows, trying to reach up and cup your cheek but you flinch away from his touch, heart breaking when pain flashes across his face at your repulsiveness.

“Sorry,” you push him off you, not looking at him once as you walk away. You heart sinks with every step as the image if Jungkook's shoulder slumping when you walked past him replays in your head.

It feels so wrong but you know it’s right. You’re not ready, not yet. Because all it takes is you crying your heart out to sleep that night for you to wake up feeling fresh and determined.

This isn’t good.

The moment you step into the field you freeze in your spot. Maybe the look of defeat and loss on the faces of those who sat at the gold and black benches in contrast to the cheers of those in red and white should have indicated the situation for you but now that you see the score board you realize the initial assumption your tried to push back was right. Your college team is behind by several marks. And this is very unusual.

Your eyes fall to the team members who are clearing the field, on a 10 minute break before the game resumes. Naturally you search for him in the midst of people as you walk past the audience bench to the players area but there’s isn’t a sigh of him. Hesitantly you tap one of the players shoulder, a broad shouldered Seokjin you knew to be a friend of Jungkook's.

“Y/N!” he beams, almost going in for a hug to which you raise a brow at him, eyeing his sweaty figure.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly laughs as he scratches the back of his head, making you chuckle. “What's going on?” you motion towards the score board and Jin sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“Man, I don’t really know but we're doing pretty shit. Even Jungkook isn’t playing as well as he should be.” Your ears perk at the mention of his name and you clear your throat. “Do you know why?” you ask almost desperate and you wonder if it makes you sadistic to want to be the cause of his apparent distress, frankly you do want to be the reason. Only because you want to be the one to de-stress him.

“No idea. Why?” he teases with a knowing grin and your cheeks flush, “But I think it should be fine. Since you’re here now, our lucky charm. Should've come earlier.” He pats your shoulder and you laughed. There’s this inside joke/myth within the team, that you’re their lucky charm. The college football team didn't really have that great of a reputation but ever since Jungkook took over as captain in the new batch, they have been on a winning streak. And quite coincidentally you’ve been there at every game.

“Come on, you guys work too hard for you to say that I’m the reason you guys win. I just sit there and barely pay attention, football is boring.” You joke and SeokJin raises a brow as he hums.

“Yet still you come here all the time, to watch this ‘boring football’, I wonder why...” He ponders aloud and you pout at him.

“Anyways, since you’re here and we're on break, you should go check up on Jungkook. He's in the locker room at the end corner by himself. I think he'll gain his senses once you guys talk or something.” He begins walking into the locker room and you furrow your brows before you speak. “What makes you think that?”

“I know.” He winks before disappearing into the crowd of his team mates. Ripping your gaze from the group of sullen boys who cheer up when Seokjin begins cracking his dad jokes, you walk towards the opposite direction.

You brace yourself and step into the room. The first thing you notice is that just dark, the lights weren’t switched on and the sun was setting ahead. You walk in further before you find Jungkook, his head hunched over his body as he sat at the bench. He’s is shirtless, a light sheen of sweat over his back that moves up and down with every heave of his breathe. His fists are clenching, unclenching , clenching.

You freeze when he abruptly looks up and turns his head to face you, looking at you with wide eyes that glimmer through the wet bangs that lay over his eyes, some sticking to his forehead. “Y/N?” he says in disbelief, voice hoarse but low, afraid that you’re a figment of his imagination and that even the force of his voice would have you fading away into thin air.

“Hey.” You smile, awkwardly standing there.

“Hi.” He responds and then there is complete silence as you just stare at each other.

“Fuck, you probably think I'm a loser even more now. I didn’t want you to ever see me like this.” He laughs humourlessly, running a hand through his locks in frustration. “No Jungkook, you’re not a loser. And I certainly don’t think that.” You sit down next to him and Jungkook scoffs throwing his head back to rest on the lockers with his eyes shut. You try to keep your eyes on his face, not his ripped body but even that is hard since he looks even hotter now, all sweaty and breathless.

“Yeah right. I’m a fucking excuse for a captain. Can’t even lead my team into winning because i- you know what forget it.” You frown at him, is he dumb? “Jungkook, you’re not a loser. How many times have you guys won huh?” you place a hand over his thighs and Jungkook's eyes shoot open, gaze flickering to where your hands are before he looks up at you.

"Jungkook you’re a great captain. You've brought honour to the college with your team and no-one else could have done it. You're a champion. You can get back there on that field and win it.” You squeeze his thigh and Jungkook stares at you blankly. It’s hard to read his thoughts when he remains so blank and unresponsive. “You know, we can only win if you're there.” He suddenly says, leaning forward and you chuckle at his ridiculousness.

“Well I’m here now aren’t I?”

He turns to face you, his dark eyes locking with yours and the sudden proximity of your faces has your breathe hitching, cheeks prickling. “Y/N, why are you here?” he asks, almost sounding frustrated but you take no offense to it somehow.

“Because ... because I care.” You gulp, finding it hard to form a sentence with his intense gaze on you. “For me or the team.” He questions, head tilted.

“Both. But especially you.” you confess and then there is a long silence as you simply stare at each other.

“You confuse me. You tell me go away and then you tell me this. Why?” he shakes his head as he looks away, running his fingers through his hair again, biceps flexing.

“Because I like you.”

“What?” he whips his head towards you as he shifts in his seat as his cheeks redden. "Why are acting so surprised I literally told you that already.” You roll your eyes at his reaction as you chuckle.

“Yeah but I thought... You know... after that night and when we bumped into each other and you ran away that you didn't feel the same anymore.” He shrugs and you groan in frustration. Why was he making this so hard?

Without warning you push yourself off your seat to straddle his lap and cup his cheek. “I’ll show you okay? How I feel. How you make me feel.” He stares at you wide eyed and surprised but he nods as his hands rest on your hip and waist.

You lean down, capturing his lips in yours. The kiss is sweet from the fruitiness of your gloss and a little salty from the sweat on Jungkook. You take in all of him, fingers trailing down the edges if his torso while the other tugs at the hair in the nape of his neck. His hands slip under your top to fondle your breast and eliciting a deep moan from you that has him tightening his grip on your waist to pull you closer to his chest. You feel his hard cock pressing against your soaking clothed core and you can't help but grind onto him.

“Fuck,” he groans, hips bucking up to met yours. You steal a glance at the digital watch on your wrist. You've got about 6 minutes left. “We need to make this quick, baby.” You pant out, not missing the way Jungkook smirks at the term of endearment as he bites his lips.

You palm him through his pants and he rolls his head back, he hisses when you reach into his tight pants and take out his angry hard cock. "Wait, I don't have a condom on me.” He grabs your wrist to stop him, but you peck the corner of his lips and grin at him.

“I’m on the pill.” He nods and let's go of you, his balls going tight at the thought of being able to fuck you raw with no hindrance and fill you with his cum. He let’s you take control, watching in bliss with hands tight around your waist as you rub his tip against your slick entrance. When you sink down on him both of you gasp. You immediately clench around him but you don’t stop, the drag as he guides you further down while you take in all of him pleasurably painful. It’s intoxicating and it has you catching your breath, nails digging into his shoulders as you start moving. "Oh my god,” you moan jumping on his cock as Jungkook’s fingers hook on the middle of your bra under your top, pulling the fabric down so that your breasts are now free of the constraints, nipples pebbled visible through the natural just shows how aroused you are home your tits bounce and your chest heaves with every thrust.

“Look at you, hopping on my dick like a fucking slut.” He growls as he latches onto your stiff nipples through your top and you shriek, arching your back into his mouth. He chuckles against your jiggling breasts as he moves onto the next, pinching and flicking your free needy buds with his thumb and it has you rolling your head back, the corners of your vision blackening as your high arrives. “Jungkook, baby, I’m so fucking close,” your thrusts are weaker, thighs aching but you are desperate and try to go faster despite your throbbing thighs. Jungkook senses your frustrations through your whines and hooks his hand on your hips, lifting you up and slamming you against his cock, occasionally bucking his hips up to yours.

“Jungkook, I’m going to come oh my god,” you pant as you let him fuck into you and you cry out as you release around him, hips twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up to yours with his brows knitted. "I’m so fucking close.” He grunts, snapping his hips up to you before he spills his warm seeds into you with a growl.

You stay like that for a while, his head on your shoulders and your head on his breathlessly. “I really like you Y/N. Fuck I love you so much.” He confesses into the crook of you neck and pulls you closer to him by your waist. A smile graces your features as you tightened your embrace over his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mia and I earlier. I didn’t think it was important. Sorry.” “It’s fine.” You chuckle with a shrug and he chuckles as well.

“Are you going to pull out or...” You remind as you eyes trail down to where you are still joined and you’re surprised his still intact in you, did he get hard again? "Fuck right,” a tint spreads over Jungkook’s cheeks as he lifts you and stands you up, shoving his dick back into his pants. You try to ignore the outline of an obvious bulge with pursed lips, holding back a laughter. “If you win, we can go for a second round tonight. Maybe more.” You sing song with a shrug as you begin walking out, leaving a wide eyed Jungkook who is getting dressed. A grin slowly spread across his face as he catches up to you.

“Wait,” he holds your hand, pulling you into his chest as he drapes his varsity jacket over your shoulder. You notice he is wearing his gear already. You raise a brow at the action, a bit taken back. Jungkook’s eyes trail down to your chest, where two wet patches lay where your nipples should be. Your cheeks heat up as you recall how Jungkook was sucking on them before this. "Thanks,” you gulp and Jungkook chuckles, taking your hand in his. Just then the door flies open sand Seokjin peeks his head from the door, light pouring in.

“Hey cap, hey Y/N. Hope you guys are done, the games about to start.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Right. Um, guess I’ll be going then.” Jungkook grins, unable to control the giddiness he feels and infects your heart too, swelling as he swings your joint hands.

“Good luck Jungkook. Go win it.” You pat his chest. “I don't need luck, I have you here. And a night of just me and you fucking to look forward to.” He quirks a brow with a smug smirk and you smack his chest.

“Whatever. Go.” You usher him out and he laughs, heading for the door. “Oh and Jungkook?” you call out, biting your lips and hugging the jacket closer to your body when he steps out the door. "Yeah?” he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“I love you too.”

Jungkook tilts his head, a grin that makes your heart race spreading across his features as he pushes himself of the door frame. He nods to himself before turning his back on you and walking out.

What was that? You furrow your brows but you don’t pay much mind to it.

They do end up winning the game, and you should've recognised the look Jungkook had earlier sooner. The look of determination and unmatched prowess, the same look he’s giving you now as you’re sprawled beneath him, completely naked while he is half dressed hovering over you with a devilish grin.

“Tired, sweetheart?” he cocks a brow and you quickly shake your head. You don’t care for the ache in between your legs, you want him even more now. “Alright baby girl, on your knees.” He commands and you quickly scramble into position. He takes his place behind you, wet chest pressing into your back while damp hair tickled got ears when he places a kiss on the top of your glowing shoulder.

“Are you ready?” he breathes into your ear, and you eagerly nod, whimpering when he cups your breasts under you roughly to gain a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, fuck Jungkook I want your cock!” you arch your back to press your behind into him, gasping as his twitching member rubs at your entrance. “Such a needy slut for my cock. Even after I’ve fucked you so good so many times just tonight... tsk tsk tsk,” he shake his head and you let out a strangled cry as his hands trail down and pinches your engorged clit, sensitive from previous abuse. But still you buck your hips into his hand, panting as rubs the button of nerves.

“Please, I can never get enough of your cock, I need it. Please fuck me again- oh Fuck.” You throw your head back, immediately clenching around him as he shoves himself in you with ease, gasping with every thrust while you grip the sheets.

From the reflection of his mirror ahead, you feels yourself grow wetter with time at the sight of him pounding into you ruthlessly from behind, lips caught in between his lips with furrowed brows. But from the corner of the mirror image on the reflection, something glimmering catches your attention.

The gold trophy of today’s victory.

A reminder of how you ended up in this situation not that you were complaining at all.

Also a reminder that tomorrow, and for more than a couple days, you might not be able to make it out of bed or even stand on your own two feet. But you don’t mind. You really don’t.

“Fuck,” you grunt as Jungkook strengthens his thrusts, the bed squeaking while you fist the sheets , mind on the edge of sanity again as his cock pounds into you and bumps your g spot.

This is going to be a long long night.

How was it ? I hope you all liked it thank you for reading 💜💫

#bangtan #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts smut #bts au #bts scenario #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #bts scenarios

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 2

Chapter: 2/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: Forgetting to eat, fainting Excerpt: "You can’t stand seeing Hot Daddicus Finch sad. You want to fix it for him. It’s funny, actually.” To illustrate his point, Remus gave a shrill, hyena cackle. "After all those nights complaining about his, what did you call it, 'saccharine simpering,' it turns out you --" he poked Janus in the chest-- "have a sweet tooth." “I--” All of Janus' instincts were screaming at him: deny, deny, deny! But shock stilled his tongue and left him staring at Remus as a horrifying realization dawned on him. Remus seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Holy shit, was I right? I was just teasing!"

Speak easy on the grapevine Keep shufflin' in a shoe shine Old tin lizzy, do it 'til you're dizzy Give it all you got until you're put out of your misery

A gentle tapping on his door interrupted Janus' fitful attempt at sleep. It couldn't be morning already, could it?

He chalked it up to sleep deprivation when the sight of Patton's face in the doorway actually made him smile. After all, irritation flooded in soon after. Janus had been trying (and failing) to sleep .

"'Morning!" Patton said, his own smile a touch strained.

Janus hid a yawn behind his hand and blinked slowly at Patton until his higher reasoning kicked in. "Good morning, Patton. I assume you need something from me? Or have you developed a magnetic attraction to my door?"

"What?" Patton stopped leaning on the doorframe and stood up straight. "No, I-- I was just about to make breakfast and I thought I'd come see if you wanted to join me."

Janus could practically feel the steam coming out of ears as he tried to come up with a way to decline that wouldn't hurt Patton's feelings. "I don't usually eat first thing in the morning," he said, only just managing not to stammer.

"Coffee, then? Black coffee."

"Like my soul," Janus said automatically.

Unfortunately, Patton seemed to take this as an agreement to join him. "Great!"

His smile wavered a little and his eyes kept flickering to the top of Janus' head-- "Just a moment." Janus ducked back into his room, put his hat back on, and followed Patton down the hall, surveying himself with distaste. His outfit was wrinkled after a night of tossing and turning, and that simply wouldn't do. Janus focused and watched in satisfaction as the creases receded from his clothing.

Then he did some mental math.

Even now, there was no chance that Janus was Patton's first choice of companion, and Patton would have at least had the good sense to warn him if any hostile parties awaited them in the kitchen. At the moment, Logan, Virgil, and Roman all counted as 'hostile parties.' This being the “light” side, Remus didn’t factor in. Ergo, Janus and Patton must have been the only ones awake or willing to come out.

The eerie silence lent credence to that conclusion. The Light side was usually full of such spirited bickering that Janus and Remus could hear it on the other side of the curtain if they listened.

It was a bit odd that Virgil and Logan weren't showing their faces. Virgil in particular couldn't have known Janus was there unless Patton had told him, but Patton had given no indication last night that he was planning on speaking to anyone.

It was quite the mystery, and Janus was more than happy to let it lie until he was better-rested. Last night's headache had returned with a vengeance and exhaustion clawed at the corners of his mind. His capelet may as well have been wet denim, the way it weighed down his shoulders.

"Black coffee," Patton handed Janus last night's ouroboros mug, "espresso-ly for you!"

Janus shook himself. He hadn't even realized they'd arrived in the kitchen. "Thank you," he said, for once at a loss for something sarcastic to say. He thought about much smoother his day would go if he didn't have this budding migraine to contend with and quickly swallowed down the aspirin that appeared in his palm.

"You're sure you don't want breakfast?" Patton asked. "I could make something light. After all, you should know better than anyone not to skip breakfast, Professor Self Care."

"I'm not skipping anything," Janus said, trying to keep a lid on his irritation. He leaned back against the counter and forced himself to take another long swallow of bitter black coffee. "Just delaying it."

"Okaaay," Patton said, sing-song, "but you're gonna feel icky later."

Janus almost responded that he felt pretty 'icky’ now and the nagging wasn't helping, but managed to keep his mouth shut. It didn't help that Patton was technically correct.

Now there was an uncomfortable thought.

Janus leaned against the counter and let his mind wander, idly watching Patton crack eggs into a skillet.

Janus had work to do. Now that Thomas was prepared to listen, Janus' subtler methods of suggestion would serve him no longer. He had thought patterns to dismantle and others to build, not to mention that he wanted to see Remus and find some time to take a nap if possible. And of course, he would have to find time to eat breakfast. Just not now. Not with Patton.

However… Patton's aversion to being alone meant that Janus would have to wait until another side emerged so he could pass off the baton.

Speaking of…

"Patton?"

"Yeah?"

"I understand Roman's hesitancy to show his face--"

"Hey."

"--but surely Virgil or Logan aren't scared of me. I'm a bit surprised Virgil hasn't shown up to try to run me off."

Patton bit his lip, his brow creasing. Janus hadn't been trying to upset him, but Patton looked like he'd just been forced to give his favorite puppy up for adoption. "Probably not." A beat. "Every time I try to talk to Virgil, he just says he's 'going through it' and won't open the door."

Janus hurriedly raised his mug to his lips so Patton wouldn't see his smile. That certainly sounded like Virgil. "Surely Logan has been more forthcoming."

"I knocked on his door a few times, too, but he won't answer at all. I think he's upset with me."

Now that was an interesting development. And problematic, because that meant Janus was going to have to babysit Patton until something gave. "I thought Logan didn't get upset."

"You heard him yesterday. He said we didn't care about him!"

Janus studied the seams of his gloves, feigning disinterest. "Yes, I did think he was being a little melodramatic. Of course I didn't hurt him."

"He wasn't being dramatic!" Patton insisted. "If Logan feels like we don't care about him… It must have been going on for a while, and none of us noticed. We're supposed to be his friends!"

"I'm sure he'll get over it soon," Janus goaded.

"I don't know, Janus." Patton fixed him with a sorrowful look before turning back to the stove. "I've never known him to get this upset about anything. It feels like everything got really bad all at once and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know what to do."

Janus downed the rest of his coffee and immediately went for a refill. Of course Patton couldn't fix it; the Lights needed more than nagging and platitudes, more than just the Band-Aid solution of superficial apologies with no changed behavior. No, they needed someone to help them introspect, someone smart enough to see through their self-absorbed nonsense.

"Penny for your thoughts," Patton said.

Janus didn't jump like he'd been electrocuted. "My thoughts are worth far more than that," he said, recovering smoothly.

"Can I get a friends and family discount?" Patton asked. He switched off the stove and carefully levered the eggs he'd fried onto a bagel.

"I was thinking about all the work I have to do today," Janus said. It was never too early to start dropping hints.

"Don't forget about breakfast,” Patton said. Nagged. “I could bring you something later, if you want."

Something in Janus' head clicked. Roman and Logan both seemed like the type to get caught up in their work and forget to eat. Patton had probably grown used to babying them. "Don't worry, Patton. Unlike certain other Sides I can actually take care of myself."

"Oh?"

"Yes, it would make perfect sense for the embodiment of self-care to forget something as basic as eating ."

Patton circled around the counter and hopped onto one of the barstools. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be pushy."

He looked at Janus with an expression of earnest regret, his eyes sparkling in the overhead lights. Somewhere deep inside him, Janus' heart pounded. He set his coffee mug aside. Patton must have brewed it strong; it usually took at least three cups to get his heart racing like this and he hadn't even finished his second yet.

"Janus?" Patton looked at him over the tops of his glasses.

"Hm?"

"Did you hear me?"

"...Yes."

Patton smiled. "I asked if you wanted to work in the living room. You know, since, um. It's just gonna be the two of us."

"No," said Janus automatically.

"No?"

"Yes."

"Now I'm confused."

So am I, Janus nearly said. He schooled his expression behind the distraction of another sip of coffee. "I have business with Remus I need to attend to." Why was Patton's bereft expression so unbearably painful? "Maybe later we could," don't, "play cards again."

Patton's sun-bright smile was so dazzling that Janus nearly had to look away. "I'd love that!"

Janus tipped his hat and sank out before he could sign himself up for any more bonding activities.

The Dark Side was pitch black. Janus stood very, very still. "Remus?" he called tentatively, not wanting to interrupt if Remus was focused on a project.

A spotlight clicked on, illuminating Remus standing in the center of a stage. "Oh!" he said, glancing in Janus' general direction. "Hi!"

Janus looked down with annoyance to find that his sensible black oxfords had been replaced with pointe shoes. He changed them back with a concentrated effort. "What's this?"

"I was working on a nightmare for Thomas." In a blink, Remus restored the living room. He flopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, revealing blood stains on the tips of his own pointe shoes. “Little early for day drinking, don’t you think?”

Janus realized he was still holding the coffee mug Patton had given him. He switched the contents out with water and took a long drink. The aspirin had barely touched his headache and the nagging, low-level pain invited in nausea and lightheadedness. Better to take care of that before it escalated into something worse.

He sat beside Remus on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hat askew in the process. “You have no idea what it’s like over there.” He straightened his hat and squinted at Remus' shoes. “Wait. A nightmare about ballet?”

“You remember Black Swan?”

“Oh. Well. As much as I’d love to waste your time when you clearly have something better to do, I can always come back later.”

“No, no.” Remus changed his pointe shoes back into boots. “You look like shit. What did they do to you?”

“I do not!” Janus set his water down and summoned a hand mirror. He did look, perhaps, a little tired, but that was easily fixed with a small illusion. He sent the hand mirror back to his room and didn’t glare at Remus. “I do not.”

Remus’ smile shattered into a laugh. “Go on, what did they do to you? Wrap you up in a blanket and make you cookies? Wash your feet with scented oils?”

“Yes, right after the parade they held in my honor.”

"And then they all took turns sucking your--"

"Please put that image in my head."

Remus just gave an apologetic shrug and settled back into the couch cushions. "So what's really going on, hm? It hasn't even been a day and you're already running back to me to bitch about it. They’re not still fighting, are they?”

“Ugh, Remus.” Janus tilted his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his brow in an exaggerated swoon. Still, he was careful to keep his voice low in case anyone was listening. “They're all locked in their rooms pouting. Except for Patton, who keeps following me around like a lost little puppy. "It’s so…" A litany of words sprang to Janus' mind; to his horror 'endearing' was among them. "Ugh," he said, waving a hand vaguely.

“You like it.” Remus’ grin was positively demonic.

“Oh, yes, I do so enjoy having a nagging little tagalong,” Janus said, but it was too late. Remus had latched onto the idea like barnacles to a boat's hull.

"You like him !"

"Oh, yes, Remus, I've been planning out our wedding all day. I just love the sad little puppy dog look he gives me whenever I try to leave the room. It was love at first self-righteous lecture."

Remus' grin widened until it threatened to split his face (a very real possibility when he was involved). "The snakey doth protest too much, methinks."

" No, I--"

“What’s your plan?" Remus interrupted. "Going to seduce him? You going to write a love poem ?”

“Oh, definitely ," Janus sneered. "What rhymes with ‘exasperating’?”

“Masturbating? Kind of a slant rhyme, but I think you could sell it.”

“Charming.”

“Hey.” Remus shrugged. “You came to me for romantic advice.”

“Yes, that was why I came to see you. Not to complain about how The Great American Nag won’t stop following me around and sighing wistfully about how his friends are sad, boohoo.”

Remus’ eyes sparkled. “You do have a plan to deal with him.”

“One that doesn’t involve seduction via dirty love poetry, I’m afraid," Janus said, making an exaggerated pouty face with accompanying hand gestures.

“Boring," Remus replied.

“But you’ll listen anyway because you love me ever so?”

“Like flies love dookie.”

Janus held up a hand to stop Remus from actually summoning a cloud of flies. “If I can at least get Logan out of his room, then Patton will stop following me around and I can get back to--”

“Lusting over Daddy in the shadows?”

Janus took a long, measured breath. “I’m not lusting--”

“Face it, Snakehole."

"Ew."

"You can’t stand seeing Hot Daddicus Finch sad. You want to fix it for him. It’s funny, actually.” To illustrate his point, Remus gave a shrill, hyena cackle. "After all those nights complaining about his, what did you call it, 'saccharine simpering,' it turns out you --" he poked Janus in the chest-- "have a sweet tooth."

“I--” All of Janus' instincts were screaming at him: deny, deny, deny! But shock stilled his tongue and left him staring at Remus as a horrifying realization dawned on him.

Remus seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Holy shit, was I right? I was just teasing!"

If Remus were any other side, Janus would have thrown an insult at him and made a tactical retreat. Instead, he stood, fussing with his cape so he wouldn’t have to look Remus in the eye. “I have to go speak with Logan.”

“That means I’m right, right?” Remus cackled again, longer this time. “Careful, Jay, you’re getting predictable.”

“No, this was all according to plan,” Janus said, already walking away. “You’re just a pawn in my vast chess game.”

“I prefer checkers,” Remus called after him. “Good luck! Don't forget to wear a condom!"

Janus chose to appear right outside Logan’s door, the better to avoid an accidental run-in with Patton. Despite Remus’ taunting, Janus really didn’t want Patton to know what he was up to, and not because he thought it might hurt Patton's feelings, and certainly not because he feared the effect that Patton’s starry-eyed gratitude might have on him. He just preferred to handle his dealings in the dark, that was all.

Strategy remained something of an afterthought. Remus' teasing had left Janus too flustered to focus, and now he was outside Logan's door.

Well.

First, he had to get in. Then he could draw the details out of Logan and improvise from there.

Janus knocked on the door with the back of his hand. “Logan? It’s Janus. I had a question for you, if you’re not too busy.”

It was gentle flattery, but flattery all the same: Janus humbling himself before Logan’s intellect. It was also an appeal to Logan’s natural curiosity; surely he would want to know what it was Janus needed help with.

Sure enough, Logan opened the door a crack. His eyes were blank behind his glasses, his mouth a straight line. “Did I hear you correctly? You want my help?”

“No.” Janus couldn't help but roll his eyes. “I was hoping to have an intellectual discussion with Roman. Isn’t his door blue?” His head throbbed and he realized with some irritation that he had forgotten to eat something before getting on with his business. Patton had been right after all.

Logan didn’t budge. “What’s your question?”

“Logan, I’m surprised at you. I'd think you would know better than to leave a guest standing in the hall.” “I'm sorry, but I don’t desire company at this time.”

“Well.” Janus straightened up. “Maybe I will ask Roman instead. For all the good it'll do me."

It was an obvious bluff: Janus weighing Logan’s jealousy against his anger.

The scales tipped.

Logan opened the door properly and stepped aside. “Come in.”

Janus fought to keep the smile out of his voice. “Thank you.”

Logan shut the door behind him and crossed to the opposite side of the room. He neither sat nor offered Janus a seat, only stared at him with cold expectation. “Your question, Deceit.”

“Janus.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Janus.”

“Very well.” Logan stared him down. “Your question, Janus.”

“What’s that? ” Janus had never been the best at eye contact whereas Logan insisted on it. Janus had flicked his eyes away from Logan’s icy gaze and caught sight of a line of sickly blue bruises on the side of Logan’s neck. An instinctive wave of guilt made his stomach clench.

“They are bruises,” Logan said matter-of-factly, though his facial expression displayed an intense desire to talk about something else. “Bruises form when capillaries, small blood vessels near the skin’s surface, are broken, usually due to an impact with something hard.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Something like a wooden shepherd’s crook, for example.”

Janus chose to avoid meeting Logan’s gaze; his capelet was sliding off his shoulder and he needed to adjust it. “You know as well as I do that injuries only affect us if we believe in them. Or have you forgotten Remus’ little throwing star lobotomy?”

“I’m aware,” Logan said stiffly.

Another dizzying wave of guilt threatened to knock Janus over. He took a half-step backwards to keep his footing. “Look. If it’s any consolation, Logan, I wouldn’t have done that if I had known it was going to hurt you.”

Logan’s face twitched with something that Janus recognized a split second later-- suppressed rage. “Janus,” he said, his voice somehow even. “I do not believe you.”

"Oh, yes," Janus spat, every word laced with venom, "You're right . I love causing unnecessary bodily harm to other Sides, that sounds exactly like me."

Logan gave a slight shake of his head. “You-- all of you --have made it abundantly clear that my presence is neither welcomed nor, in many cases, even tolerated. You would have done whatever it took to get me out of the way so you could pursue your agenda, and the others would likely not have stopped you even if they had known. Or rather, had they tried to stop you, it would have been in the service of doing just that: stopping you, rather than in service of assisting me ." Janus' defensive anger gave way to something very like concern, but Logan was still going: "They have given no indication they care about me; in fact, I believe they have grown to dislike me.” Logan broke off, breathing heavily. He didn’t seem to notice the way his fingers dug into his neck. "So, no, Janus. I do not believe you. Kindly ask your question and leave."

“I…” said Janus, for the sake of not making Logan feel judged while he came up with something of substance to respond. He hadn't been expecting that . “Didn’t Patton come check on you?”

“He left,” Logan said. “I waited, and he left.”

“You wanted him to apologize,” Janus guessed. “You wanted him to notice that he’d hurt you and apologize for it.”

Logan adjusted his tie. “I do not feel, and therefore I do not want.”

Janus didn’t even have to respond to that, only raise his eyebrows and look at the bruises that marred Logan’s skin (the bruises he had left).

“Janus, I do not understand what you stand to gain from this conversation,” Logan said. “I don't believe you would have come here just to watch me embarrass myself. Did you have a question, or was there something else you wanted from me?"

Janus ignored the question. He had just landed on his strategy. “Would you like to learn something, Logan?”

“Always.”

“Even though you might not like it?” “It is irrational to dislike knowledge.”

“So it doesn’t bother you that 85 is divisible by 17?”

For a moment, Logan looked like he might argue. Then he sighed, and might even have smiled a bit. “Go on.”

"You," Janus pointed at him, "have been derelict in your duty." He waited for Logan to look suitably offended before he continued, "Not as Logic, but as a friend."

Logan frowned, not offended, but puzzled. "I have?"

Janus thought it might be a bit too much to change Logan's room into a stage, but it was alright; he didn't need the physical change to feel the spotlight on him, to see Logan sitting, rapt, in the audience. “If you haven’t told the others how you feel, you have no right to expect them to just know . Patton and Roman especially have a difficult time intuiting how others are feeling unless you spoon-feed it to them. You cannot lock yourself away and expect them to come crawling on their knees, begging for your forgiveness. You need to communicate. You need to tell them how you feel .”

“How,” Logan said drily, “does one ‘spoon-feed’ emotions?”

“Please keep trying to deflect; you're so good at it."

“But you’re saying that I should explain to the others that my f…”

“ Go on.”

“Feelings are hurt.” Logan winced.

“Growth is often uncomfortable,” Janus said, adding a silent ‘ not that I would know’ for his own benefit.

“And you’re sure they’ll listen?” Logan, for the first time since Janus had known him, looked unsure. He adjusted his tie, which was already immaculate, and stared at Janus.

“One can only hope, since they claim to be your friends," Janus said to reassure him. "And you know, use ‘“I” statements’ instead of ‘“you” statements,’ you remember elementary school.”

A pause.

“Janus? Please elaborate on one thing for me."

"Yes?"

"Why are you helping me? Last time we were in proximity, you gave no indication whatsoever that you cared for me or my 'feelings,' nor for anyone else's. What changed?"

"It's complicated," Janus said, trying to evade the question.

"It's my job to handle 'complicated.' So tell me: Why are you helping me?"

Oh, Janus just loved feeling cornered. His eyes kept finding their way to the bruises on Logan's neck, tangible proof of all the pain Janus had caused. "Quid pro quo," he lied. "Patton misses you and I owe him a debt." His head swam and he forced himself to stand perfectly still to try to keep his balance. Blue bruises dominated his vision.

"Falsehood."

"Fine." Janus curled his lip. "Because I felt sorry for you--"

"Janus," Logan said in a tone of patient annoyance, like an irritated schoolteacher, "please."

Janus took a breath and tried to swallow down the sick guilt clawing at his chest. He wished Logan would have offered him a chair. Now was probably a bad time to ask. “It's because I’m sorry . I--” The room tilted sideways and he staggered in a bid to keep his balance, as there was nothing to steady himself against. “I’m sorry I did that.” He gestured at Logan's neck, fighting for breath. Every word seemed to require twice as much oxygen as usual. “It was wrong of me to silence you. And…” Deep breath. “Even though I thought it wouldn’t affect you--” Telling the truth didn’t usually hurt like this; he felt a little like he was going to be sick. What was going on? “It did, and I'm sorry."

#spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: rag doll - aerosmith

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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A Place Where I Can Breathe - Ch 5

Chapter: 5/7 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: Paranoid tendencies, depictions of extreme anxiety Excerpt: Three days of this had Virgil feeling like a walking conspiracy theory. He was absolutely convinced that Janus was going to come striding in, armored in the fury of the scorned, and neatly burn away his friends' self-esteem until nothing remained but a smoldering ruin of the love Virgil had only just grown accustomed to. And he would have nothing but the pain of his own empathy, and Janus would have Remus.

Virgil grew increasingly jumpy as the days passed and danger failed to manifest. He had taken to sleeping in the living room in his clothes in case Janus tried to corner someone. He wrung the details of the encounter out of Roman, who was unusually reticent about the whole ordeal. This did absolutely nothing to calm Virgil's nerves. He kept himself glued to the others whenever they came downstairs, never letting them get more than a few paces away from him.

The sleep deprivation wasn't helping matters either; even without the anxiety-induced insomnia wreaking havoc on his fragile sleep schedule, the couch was just the wrong size for sleeping on and he woke up multiple times during the nights to readjust. Fearing that exhaustion would make him complacent, he supplemented this lack of sleep with copious amounts of caffeine.

Three days of this had him feeling like a walking conspiracy theory. He was absolutely convinced that Janus was going to come striding in, armored in the fury of the scorned, and neatly burn away his friends' self-esteem until nothing remained but a smoldering ruin of the love Virgil had only just grown accustomed to. And he would have nothing but the pain of his own empathy, and Janus would have Remus.

It was early in the morning on what would have been the fourth day of Virgil's self-imposed lookout duty when he finally reached his breaking point. He threw off his blankets and crept to the basement door.

He stood in front of it for a long time just staring at the patterns in the wood. His breath echoed in his head, so loud he was half-convinced it would wake the whole house. He had no plan. He just needed to know.

Virgil opened the door.

He stepped over the threshold and immediately froze on the landing at the sight before him. Shame burned hot in his face. There was nothing sinister to behold, just the innocent sight of Janus and Remus asleep on the couch in their clothes, two GameCube controllers tangled on the floor in front of them. Virgil almost smiled at the memory of long nights spent in front of the TV, spirited wrestling matches and arguments about what counted as cheating.

He gave a wistful sigh and leaned against the banister, fully aware of just how creepy he was being. He wanted nothing more than to cast aside this stupid grudge and curl up under Remus' arm, his head only inches away from Janus' where it rested on Remus' chest.

Virgil knew it was foolish to linger, more foolish still to descend a few steps, and a few more, and a few more until he was sitting on the bottom step. He didn't have a goal in mind; he just wanted to stay in the moment. He could pretend he had just woken up and gently extricated himself from the cuddle pile. He could pretend they had all stayed up late playing Mario Kart and were about to all have coffee together. He could, for one moment of sublime nostalgia, pretend that things were back to normal.

Even if that meant pretending that Roman, Logan, and Patton didn't love him yet.

Virgil couldn't deny that there had been a sense of solidarity in rejection, a connection forged in mutual scorn. And for one fleeting moment, Virgil understood why Janus and Remus had felt so betrayed by him. Even Janus, who dealt almost exclusively in gray areas, was unable or unwilling to see past the false dichotomy of 'dark' and 'light' that had dictated and defined their lives for so very long.

Virgil braced his elbow against his knee and let his chin rest in his palm. He knew he should leave. He intended to leave. Soon.

And then, like shattering glass, the spell broke on its own: Remus opened his eyes.

For one heart-stopping moment, he and Virgil just stared at each other.

Then Virgil shot to his feet. "I was just leaving," he whispered.

Remus held eye contact. He couldn't get up without disturbing Janus, who was still asleep on his shoulder. "What were you doing?" Remus whispered back, too sleepy to be anything but confused.

Despite himself, Virgil's eyes flickered to Janus. He shook his head and put a finger to his lips.

He really should have known better. Remus pursued chaos with the same reckless determination of a labrador chasing a tennis ball; he was going to sink his teeth into this opportunity no matter who or what he knocked over on the way.

Remus' eyes lit up. Keeping his gaze locked onto Virgil's horrified face, he lifted his elbow and nudged Janus in the ribs. Hard.

In the basement, 'Janus is not a morning person,' was not merely a statement of fact, it was a threat. Janus jerked upright, looking for all the world like a cobra with his capelet hung up on the couch cushions behind his head. He narrowed his eyes at Virgil, and the expression of sleepy irritability was so familiar that Virgil would have laughed if he wasn't too busy panicking.

"Look who dropped in for a visit," Remus prompted, looking every part the triumphant tattletale as he smirked at Virgil.

Janus arranged his capelet over his shoulders and addressed Virgil without looking at him. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, actually." Virgil set his jaw, pointedly ignoring the ghosts of familiarity that still flitted in the periphery of his mind.

"I thought you were leaving," Remus said.

"Yeah, well…" Virgil tried and failed to think of something punchy to say. "I just remembered I'm mad at you."

Janus scoffed. "Right. You're mad at us."

"I am!" Virgil nearly stamped his foot, but managed to hold back. "Look, let's…" He sighed, suddenly exhausted. "Let's not do this. Just-- Please don't hurt the others again, okay? I know it's me you're mad at, so please don't drag them into it. And I'll do you the favor of never coming back here." He took one last look around the room and turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Virgil froze with his back turned. He had expected some sort of protest from Remus, but that had been Janus' voice. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Janus slide back into the cool persona he wore around like armor. But for one split second, his face had been so open and Virgil had seen the truth beneath the layers. It was a look of despair so honest and pure that Virgil's chest ached to behold it, and he understood in an instant something he had always known: Janus was afraid.

The coals burning in Virgil's chest went out, with barely a whiff of smoke to indicate that they had ever been there at all. "What, Janus?"

"Um." And with that final hesitation, Janus had control again. "Virgil, Virgil, Virgil. You can't leave so soon."

"Watch me," Virgil said, less as a threat and more as a way to prompt Janus to get to the point.

"We should talk," Janus said, examining his gloved fingertips as though he wasn't still half-asleep and panicking. "Why don't you stay for coffee and we can get this straightened out?"

Virgil was quiet for a long moment as he thought it over. He wanted to believe that Janus had a sincere apology prepared, but he knew that would never be the case. Maybe if one of them was on their deathbed, but never before. But more than that, he missed his friends. He so badly wanted an excuse to forgive them, and if there was even a chance that Janus would admit, even obliquely, to any sort of wrongdoing, then Virgil wanted to take it.

"Oh, just say yes," Remus snapped. "We all know you want to."

"Upstairs," Virgil said.

Janus and Remus both made faces of disgust. "Aw, Virgil, are you too good for the dungeon now?" Remus asked. "We even put away all the ticklers, sex knobs, and lacy hoohas just for you."

"Ew." Virgil wrinkled his nose. "Upstairs. Take it or leave it."

"That's hardly fair," Janus started, but Virgil cut him off.

"Take it or leave it," he repeated firmly.

"Fine by me," Remus said, standing up and rocking forward onto his toes.

Janus made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes, so Virgil knew just how demanding he was being. "Oh, very well. Upstairs it is."

Remus didn't drink coffee. Virgil offered him one anyway, which Remus declined.

He just sat back and watched and tugged at his hair while Janus spooned mound after mound of crisp white sugar into his mug and Virgil poured his customary eight fluid ounces of milk into his own mug.

Coffee rituals completed, Virgil and Janus sat down and stared at each other.

"You owe Roman an apology," Virgil said, scowling.

Janus, still a little disoriented and moving slower than he would have liked, played dumb. "Whatever do you mean?"

Remus growled at the mention of Roman, but did not interrupt. Instead, he bounced his legs under the table. He knew that Janus and Virgil were both hurting, though their little dance was agonizing to watch. But that was how they worked, so Remus sat and tried his hardest not to give voice to the hundreds of thoughts racing through his brain.

"I'm not in the mood for games," Virgil said, staring at his coffee. "He told me what you said."

"I'd be perfectly happy to apologize to Roman," Janus said, pausing for dramatic effect, "just as soon as he apologizes to me. And Remus, for that matter."

Remus stuck his tongue out the mention of his name, but kept his thoughts to himself. He just wanted Virgil back, and didn't particularly care what path Janus took as long as they reached their destination.

"Come to think of it," Janus continued, more at ease now that he had a plan of attack, "has he apologized to you ?"

"He doesn't need to," Virgil said, still not looking at Janus. "None of them do. They didn't know how badly they were hurting us."

"You didn't tell them."

"I don't need to!"

"Mm." Janus sat back, fixing Virgil with a critical gaze. "So you expect an apology from me , but not from your new friends? Why the double standard, Virgil? What makes me so different from them?"

"Because!" Virgil clenched his hands into fists under the table. "Because I know they're sorry for how they treated me. They don't have to say it, because they show me every day. And you-- I truly don't think you're even capable of admitting when you've made a mistake."

"Oh, shit," Remus muttered.

Janus was silent, his mind working feverishly to identify the combination of words that would hurt Virgil as deeply as Virgil's words had hurt Janus.

"And I know it's hard for you," Virgil continued, the anger draining out of his voice, "but you could say something. Say it backwards, for all I care."

Janus washed away the venom on his tongue with a mouthful of lukewarm coffee.

"I don't know what you'd have me say." A pause. "Because I did everything right and I don't regret anything I said or did. I certainly don't miss you."

Virgil was quiet for a long moment as he processed that. "My turn, I guess," he said finally. "I… should have communicated better with you guys. And I should have been more respectful of your feelings. I was just so tired of being angry all the time, and I… I guess I was hoping that you guys would follow my lead."

"Do I have to apologize for anything?" Remus asked, kicking his boots up onto the table. "Let's see…" Guilt and remorse weren't typically in his wheelhouse, though he was certainly capable of feeling them. He simply didn't have time for regret, always charging forward to the next possibility. "Oh, I'm sorry I put slugs in your bed!"

Virgil looked at him sideways. "You… didn't… put slugs in my bed," he said slowly. Then again, he hadn't actually seen his bed in several days. "Did you?"

Janus shook his head.

"Oh, that's right!" Remus waved a hand and smiled at Virgil. "I only thought about it."

"Please," Virgil said, "please explain to me the creative merit of putting slugs in my bed."

"He never said it was a creative endeavor," Janus said.

"No, that was a revenge plot," Remus said. "I would never use slugs for self-expression. There's nothing shocking about slugs." He paused, scrunching up his mouth in thought. "Unless you put one up your ass or something." Virgil choked on his coffee, spitting out a mouthful across the table at Janus, who was mostly successful in his attempts to dodge it. Unruffled, Remus continued, "And there are much more shocking things to put up your butt!"

"Slugs, Re," Virgil reminded him between coughs.

"I think," Janus said, imagining a roll of paper towels to hand to Virgil, "there are lots of ways to express oneself via slug." He gave Remus a keen look. "You just have to be creative enough to come up with something."

"Of course you'd say that." Virgil mopped up the spilled coffee, balled up the paper towel, and aimed it at Janus' head.

Remus nodded his agreement, snatching the paper towel ball out of the air as it passed.

Janus let himself be teased. "Oh, please do me the favor of elaborating on that," he said, bowing his head to Virgil in a show of false deference.

"You're pro-slugs," Remus said, just for the sake of throwing a wrench in things.

"He's pro-anti," Virgil corrected.

"A contrarian," Remus agreed.

Janus rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "You're right. I never agree with anyone."

"What do we do now?" Remus asked Virgil in a faux-whisper.

Virgil responded by lunging over the table and knocking Janus' hat off.

"You know how much I love it when you do that," Janus grumbled, bending to pick it up. "You never go after each other like this," he said once he'd resurfaced.

Remus just shrugged at him. "Sorry, Danger Noodle, but Virgil doesn't wear a hat."

"Yes, that's what I meant." Janus sat back and crossed his arms, putting on a show of irritation.

Under the table, Virgil gently kicked his shin. Janus flashed him a closed-mouth smile.

***

4:45 was a disgusting hour to be awake, truly barbaric. Roman rolled out of bed before he could change his mind on the matter and stood up, yawning and running both hands through his hair to try to get it to sit right. Ordinarily, he would never emerge from his room looking anything less than his princely best, but today he had (dare he say it?) bigger things to worry about.

Bigger things such as Virgil's newfound guard dog tendencies. Roman couldn't believe that Logan and Patton hadn't brought it up already, or even seemed to have noticed that anything was amiss. Roman was the only one who seemed to chafe under Virgil's constant supervision, flinch at the way he haunted the corners of the room whenever anyone ventured downstairs.

And, since apparently no one else was going to do it, Roman took it upon himself to wake his comrades from their slumber and gather them in his room so they could work out a strategy for helping Virgil out of his weird, paranoid phase.

It was not lost on Roman that Virgil's vigil had only started up after Roman's encounter with Janus. He had kept that information to himself, ashamed in a way he couldn't really define and didn't like to think about. He really didn't think Patton and Logan needed to know.

Neither one of them was particularly happy to be summoned at such an early hour, and neither one had their glasses. They both squinted at Roman, who bounced on his toes and looked around the room to make sure everything was perfect.

Roman's bedroom, much like everyone else's, was inherently linked to his function. His room represented ultimate creative freedom, meaning he could change it at will to facilitate whatever creative undertaking he so desired. Since today's was a confrontation, he had first imagined a massive meeting room at the top of some towering skyscraper. But he had second-guessed himself, and in the moments before summoning his friends, had cycled through a tree house, a laboratory, and a stage, before finally turning it into an exact facsimile of the living room. Thinking this might be disorienting, he changed all the decor to red and gold, and finally summoned his friends before he could change his mind again.

"Y'okay, Roman?" Patton mumbled, falling back onto the couch without a second glance and rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles.

Logan, who was much more annoyed at this disturbance, didn't wait for an answer. "Confusional arousal, also known as 'sleep drunkenness' is a condition that results from being woken suddenly--"

"I know, I know!" Roman waved his hands. "Look, I'll just come right out and say it: I'm worried about Anxiety."

"May I inquire why?" Logan asked stiffly. "Or are you going to interrupt again?"

Roman made a face at him. "Have you seriously not noticed that he's always downstairs?"

"Is he?" Patton asked. "I noticed he's been waking up earlier, but…" He paused and shrugged at Roman. "I mean, you sometimes wake up that early."

"That's what I'm telling you!" Roman said. "He's always down there! Even at weird times!"

"How long have you been observing this phenomenon?" Logan asked.

"Do-doo-be-do-doo," Patton sang.

"Phenomenon," Logan said, closing his eyes. "Not 'Mahna Mahna'."

"Do-doo-be-do-doo," Patton sang again, shimmying his shoulders a little.

Logan opened his eyes and turned to Roman. "How long have you been observing this behavior?"

"I don't know, like three days?" Roman said. "What, do you not believe me?"

"Aw, I'm sure Logan believes you," Patton said, trying to mediate despite the fact that he had no idea what Logan was getting at.

"I do believe you that Anxiety has been in the living room every time you have gone downstairs," Logan said. "What I am trying to determine is if this is a coincidence."

"It's not a coincidence!" Roman snapped. "You don't have to keep undermining me, Logan! If you don't believe me, just say so instead of trying to make me look stupid and… and inadequate."

"Whoa, kiddo!" Patton put up his hands. "Nobody thinks you're inadequate." He paused and waited for Logan to agree. Logan just looked at him, confused, so Patton continued, "Right, Logan?"

"That depends. Are we discussing Roman's creative works or his adherence to the scientific method-- Patton, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Forget it," Roman rolled his eyes. "I might as well just come right out and tell you: Deceit dropped by for a visit a couple nights ago--"

"When?" Logan interrupted.

Roman dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "And he tried to get me to say that Anxiety was bad for, well, for me. For all of us, I think is what he was getting at. Probably so we'd kick Anxiety out and send him straight back to Deceit's creepy clutches. Anyway, I told him to get lost and went right upstairs to tell Anxiety what had happened, and he's been camped out in the living room ever since."

"If I'm doing the math correctly," Logan said, looking at Roman sideways, "that was also the night that Thomas dreamt about a Dionysian org--"

Patton squeaked, but it was Roman who got words out faster, "I think we all remember! Let's not bring it back up."

"My point being, you were distracted or otherwise incapacitated for the rest of the night."

"This isn't about me!" Roman said, "As much as it pains me to admit it. This is about saving Anxiety from…" He hesitated. "Well, from whatever it is he's freaking out about. I say we go down there, sit him down, and work this out once and for all."

"Yay!" Patton said, caught up in the moment.

"Logan, are you in?"

"Would it even matter if I said no?"

"That's the spirit!" Roman strode to the door and pulled it open, sparing a thought to imagine Logan and Patton out of their pajamas and into their normal clothes. "Come, my brethren! To battle!"

"Um, battle?" Patton said, trailing after Roman with much less vigor than Roman would have liked. "How about to breakfast?"

"Can we have French toast?" Roman asked, looking between Patton and Logan while Logan shut the door.

Logan shrugged helplessly. "Sure."

"Very well." Roman beckoned Patton and Logan to follow him and marched down the hall toward the stairs. "Come, my brethren! To breakfast!"

He was quiet on the stairs in case Virgil was asleep; part of him hoped Virgil was asleep so that Logan would see and possibly admit that Roman had been correct in his statement that Virgil was always downstairs.

But to their mutual confusion, voices emanated from the kitchen. Roman paused just short of the doorway, frowning at the sound of his brother's voice.

"You still have to tell us what you think the creative applications of slugs are!" Remus said, oblivious to the audience just out of sight.

"You know he doesn't have any," Virgil said, laughing.

Roman's frown deepened and he glanced behind him to meet the equally confused faces of Logan and Patton.

"You haven't given me any time to think," Janus said. "And I did specify that a creative person could come up with something."

This was the catalyst that got Roman in motion, compelled by the understanding that something was deeply wrong. Forgetting his original goal entirely, he stepped into the kitchen to find Virgil smiling at the two sides Roman had thought he hated most.

Patton and Logan followed Roman into the kitchen. Patton froze, just as baffled as Roman, but Logan only inclined his head on his way to the coffee maker. "Good morning, Anxiety, Deceit." He turned to Remus and frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't know how I should address you."

"Call me by your name, Elio," Remus said, widening his eyes.

"Neither one of us is name--"

"Oh, forget it." Remus waved a hand. "Call me Remus, call me Dukey, call me Madonna for all I care."

"Good morning, Remus."

"Logan!" Roman said, his eyes still locked on Virgil. "Don't-- Don't--" He shook his head. "Anxiety, what's going on? Why aren't you scared of them?"

"Why would he be scared of us?" Remus demanded.

Janus watched, his eyes traveling from one face to the next until he found what he was looking for. He didn't have a clue what was going on, and it was obvious that Logan didn't either. Roman and Remus were trying to work it out, which left Patton, who barely factored into the equation, and Virgil. Virgil, who was shifting in his chair looking like he'd rather be anywhere else than here. Aha.

"Because you're evil!" Roman said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And…" Patton said hesitantly, "You hurt him."

"He doesn't like you!" Roman agreed. "He was glad to be rid of you!"

Virgil grit his teeth but could only watch helplessly as Janus and Remus exchanged a look of mutual understanding and stared expectantly at him.

"Is that what he told you?" Janus purred, ignoring the violent beating of his heart against his ribs. "Were we cruel to you, Anxiety?" He gave Remus an expectant look.

Remus held eye contact. He knew what Janus wanted him to do; a part of him even wanted to do it. As much as Remus was about morbid possibilities, he was also about ugly truths. He had no interest in defying his function, in censoring himself. But the sight of Virgil in his periphery, pale and shaking in his chair like the sole survivor of a head-on car crash, made Remus pause. And, holding eye contact with Janus, he lifted his hand and placed it over his own mouth.

Janus accepted this with a roll of his eyes. If Remus didn't want to put Virgil out of his misery, then Janus certainly wasn't going to be the one to do it. "Well, Anxiety? Answer the question." He curled his mouth into a vicious, humorless smile. "And do be honest, won't you?"

Virgil couldn't breathe. He swallowed convulsively, trying to get himself under control. The tightrope stretched out before him, growing narrower by the second. He kept his weight centered a second longer and stared, pleading, at Janus. "Don't."

"Leave him alone, you fiend!" Roman said, lunging forward and slamming his hand down on the table.

"Hey!" Virgil shot to his feet, chest-to-chest with Roman. The look of confusion in Roman's eyes turned to betrayal at the sight of Virgil facing off against him with his back to the Dark Sides. "Listen," Virgil said in a quavering voice, sinking back down into his chair, "let's just… Everybody calm down; I can explain."

"Take your time," Janus said, irritably. He motioned for Remus to put away his morningstar, which had jumped into his hand the moment Roman had hit the table.

"What is there to explain?" Roman demanded. "Are they holding you hostage, or what?"

The tightrope quivered beneath Virgil's feet. He took a deep breath and jumped. "I lied, okay? I was scared that you guys wouldn't want me anymore if you knew that we…"

Remus peeled his hand away from his mouth. "That we're tighter than Logan's ass!"

"Were friends," Virgil said.

Roman sat down next to Virgil, heart stuttering in his chest. Patton and Logan sat as well, but Roman barely noticed the movement. "You mean you were friends the whole time?"

"No!" Virgil said hurriedly. "Which reminds me." He turned and gave Janus a stern look. "I think Deceit has something he wants to say to you."

"I think Deceit can speak for himself, thank you," Janus said.

"If you're talking about that little late-night rendezvous, you can just forget it," Roman said, puffing out his chest. He didn't need everyone to know just how badly he'd been hurt, and insisting on an apology would do just that.

Janus turned to Virgil, triumphant. "See? There's nothing to apologize for."

"Wait a second," Patton said. "I'm confused." He turned to Virgil. "Why did you let us think that Deceit and the Duke were mean to you?"

"They were a little bit," Virgil said. Janus scoffed and Virgil kicked him under the table but continued explaining, "They didn't like that I was spending so much time with you and… Well, I was scared that you wouldn't want me, and we were on bad terms when I moved up here, so I thought it would be easier if I just… kept my mouth shut."

"You were fighting?" Patton asked. "Did we cause that?" He was horrified at the thought. He didn't like Deceit and he didn't like the Duke, but the idea of actually hurting them or Virgil made his chest ache.

"You," Janus pointed at him, "have caused more pain than you even know."

"How?" Roman demanded. "We don't even talk to you."

"You shut us down every chance you get!" Remus said, baring his teeth. "How would you like it if your pens never wrote, hm? What would you do with all those thoughts in your head?"

"You're not making any sense, Dastardly Whip-stache, although I'd expect nothing else from the likes of you."

Janus raised an eyebrow at Virgil, looking at him pointedly. Virgil sighed. "Okay, okay. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to make you feel bad, but… When you try to stop Thomas from listening to us, it's… destructive."

"Destructive how?" Logan asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Try 'psychological torture,'" Janus muttered.

"Oh, please," Roman said, rolling his eyes. "We don't torture you. Like I said, we never even see you!"

Janus sat up straight. "How would you like it, Roman, if every time you tried to write one of your little stories, your pen tore straight through the paper? Or you turned around and the whole thing was shredded?" Not wanting Patton and Logan to feel as though they were absolved of any guilt, Janus looked at them in turn. "How would you feel if you were never able to properly perform your function? If something stopped you every time? If Thomas never heard your voice no matter how loud you tried to scream?"

"That sounds like it would be psychological torture," Logan said drily, unmoved. He only assisted in silencing Janus and Remus when their influence prevented Thomas from healthy functioning, which was rare.

"Do we--" Patton choked out. "Did we-- Virgil?" he beseeched. "Did we do that to you?"

Virgil nodded, knowing full well that there was no sparing Patton's feelings now. "That's part of the reason why we fought," Virgil said. "I forgave you and they--"

"Don't," Remus said.

"I was hoping that you guys accepting me meant we could all learn how to coexist without hurting each other," Virgil said, blushing. "Like, not to sound all bleeding-heart about it."

"So what, when did you guys all magically make up?" Roman demanded, resentment coloring his tone. Virgil's explanation soothed the sting a bit, but jealousy and bitterness still swirled dangerously in his mind.

"Uh, like, ten minutes ago?" Virgil said. "I was trying to get Deceit to apologize to you."

"For what, exactly?" Logan asked, looking at Roman. "You only mentioned that he tried to turn you against Anxiety."

"It's nothing to worry about," Roman said hurriedly.

"I think we need to apologize," Patton said. Everyone looked at him and he shrank back a little before finding his confidence again. "We hurt Virgil and his friends! That was wrong of us."

Janus eyed him, his gaze calculating. "The best apology is changed behavior."

"Oh, well, um." Patton looked down at the table.

"That's what I thought."

"You did it for me," Virgil pleaded. "You thought I was bad for Thomas, but now you know that I can be important too. What's different about them?"

"You can't seriously be expecting us to put up with that ," Roman said, gesturing at Remus, who was making lewd gestures at him across the table.

"C'mon, a month ago you would have said the exact same thing about me," Virgil said.

Roman crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, but this is too far."

"Aw, and you haven't even heard about my idea for desert ungulate erotica," Remus said, sticking out his lower lip. "I call it the Camel Sutra."

"See?"

"I'm just asking you to take a chance on them like you took a chance on me," Virgil said. "Look, I'm even vouching for them! Nobody vouched for me and you took me in."

"For the record," Logan said, "I have no opposition to this. We are all parts of Thomas and we all have important contributions to make."

"I meeeaaan…" Patton said slowly. Again, everyone turned to look at him. "Anxiety is kind of right."

"Virgil," Virgil blurted before he could change his mind. "My name is Virgil. If we--" He took a deep, shaky breath. "If we're gonna do this, I want you to know my name."

"Do what?" Roman asked, still reeling from Patton's words. "Uh, I mean, thank you, Virgil for being honest with us, but-- Him?" He pointed at Remus.

Remus flipped him off. "You're being a real dick right now, you know? What'd I ever do to you?"

"To Thomas, you mean? You scare him!"

"And who told him we were scary?" Remus demanded, reaching out to sling one arm over Janus' shoulder. They were a little too far apart for the motion to be comfortable. Remus dug his fingers into Janus' shoulder to keep from losing his grip. "You did! You and Daddy Long Dong over there."

"Roman," Patton was perfectly miserable, guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders, "I think he's right."

"But they are scary!" Roman insisted. "I don't care if An-- If Virgil turned out to be a good guy--"

"Gee, thanks," Virgil muttered.

"--Deceit and my brother are not good for Thomas."

"And who are you to decide that?" Janus asked, sticking his chin out. "For Thomas' sake let's at least be honest with each other, Roman. You don't care one way or the other whether Remus and I are good for Thomas. You're only thinking about yourself. And I'm so sorry to tell you, but you're outnumbered. So what does that say about you? Virgil is practically on his knees begging you to give us a chance, and here you are denying him because you can't see past your own inherent prejudices."

"Yes, thank you, Deceit. I'll be sure to take that advice to heart," Roman snapped. He turned helplessly to Patton. "Well, Padre, you've always been our guide for right and wrong. I'll defer to you on this even if… Even if I don't like the answer. I trust you."

"Don't put it on him!" Virgil said. "I'm the one-- Don't-- It's not fair to put it all on him."

Patton smiled at Virgil, then at Roman. "It's okay. I think we should give them a chance. At least let them, you know, express themselves."

"Yeah," Roman sighed. "I was afraid you would say that."

"If we can work with Virgil, I don't see any reason we can't work with these two," Patton said. "Even if it does make me feel kinda…"

"Squirmy?" Remus suggested, wriggling in place to emphasize his point.

Patton screwed up his face in disgust before catching himself. "Uh-- Yeah. 'Squirmy' is a good word for it." He trailed off and cleared his throat and for one split second, a chill silence dominated the air.

Then Logan stood. "Was that the heartwarming conclusion?" he asked.

"I don't think there's gonna be a heartwarming conclusion, Lo," Virgil said to him.

"Ah. Well in that case, may I suggest French toast?"

Janus rose, smoothly shrugging Remus' hand off his shoulder. "Well," he started, "I'm sure--"

Virgil cut him off with a guttural noise like he was trying to deter a naughty cat from swiping a glass off a countertop. "Mm!"

Janus turned to him, brow furrowed in faux-concern. "Are you trying to get my attention or are you choking on something?"

"I need to talk to you for a sec," Virgil said, then turned to Remus. "Both of you." He turned to leave and motioned for them to follow him, giving both Patton and Roman lights taps on the shoulder on his way out.

He led them to the basement stairs and paused on the landing. "Listen, I know--" He broke off with a frustrated sigh, not wanting to offend his friends. "I want this to end well, and I know what you guys are like." Janus raised an eyebrow but did not interrupt. Virgil made an apologetic face at him and continued, "Don't push them, okay? Remus, no scare tactics. Janus, you know what the boundaries are. Don't try to find them. Just be cool, and I'll make sure they're cool back."

"I'll behave if Romano-Hermano does," Remus said, bouncing on his toes. "Ugh, fine, and I promise I won't write about his phobias unless I have a reeeaally good idea."

Janus sniffed and swept his hair back. "And I'll be sure to push as hard as I can. You're right, Virgil, it's in my best interest to antagonize Saint Patton and his little sidekick right out of the gate. Thank you for the warning."

Virgil refused to be intimidated, knowing full well that Janus was only pushing back so hard because Virgil had seen right through him. "So," he said expectantly, "French toast?"

"Sure." Janus was already in motion, leaning into Virgil so he could reach the doorknob. "This is going to be fun."

"This would be good with cinnamon," Patton said, his voice bright with false cheer, as he hacked at his French toast with needless ferocity.

"Mm-hm," Virgil said, desperate to ease some of the tension that made the maple syrup go sour in his mouth.

"The recipe called for powdered sugar only," Logan said.

Virgil kicked Janus under the table in a desperate bid to get him to break the icy silence he'd been maintaining.

Janus sneered back at him, having no other way to communicate that making small talk about breakfast toppings was beneath him.

It was Remus who extended the first hand. "What about cayenne?" His eyes flickered from one face to the next, nervous and probing, and Virgil's silent 'thank you' went unacknowledged.

Logan twitched in irritation. "The recipe--"

"Oh, forget the recipe, Discount Alton Brown."

"You can't call him that!" Roman said, forgetting himself.

Virgil took a breath to intervene but stopped himself, not wanting Roman to feel ganged up on.

"You called me an 'off-brand nerd processor' earlier this week," Logan said.

"Well, yeah, but…" Roman tapped his fingertips against the table, agitated, "Endearingly funny-mean nicknames are my thing."

"Now they're our thing," Remus said with a wicked grin, although he was sure not to sharpen his teeth this time. "Aww, how sweet. We have something in common."

"I think," Patton interjected, "spicy French toast sounds, eh…" Here, he faltered. "Interesting?"

Virgil looked down at his massacred pile of French toast so no one would see the hesitant smile on his face.

Breakfast ended with no major fights. Virgil managed to coalesce all the tact and charm he was capable of and use it to corral Logan, Roman, and Patton into his bedroom.

He imagined some purple beanbag chairs for all of them and sat down heavily in one, twisting the fabric of his hoodie in his hands. "I'm really sorry I lied to you guys. I understand if you're mad at me or don't want to hear it, but I just-- I was so scared that you would kick me out if I told you the truth. And it's not that I think you would-- Like, I know we're friends, it's just that I'm me."

"Virgil," Roman said, because Patton didn't look like he was going to interrupt. "It's okay. And, well, I'm big enough to admit that I may have been a little overzealous in my attempts to protect you. Although I'm really not sure how you manage to get along with my brother."

"Practice makes perfect," Virgil said, flashing what he hoped was a winning smile.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Roman grumbled.

"Anyway," Virgil said, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me, but I get it if not."

"Of course we forgive you!" Patton said. "I'm sorry I ever made you feel like you had to lie to us. You can always be honest with us."

Virgil nodded. "That's all I wanted to say. I don't know where to go from here."

"Your options are limited," Logan said. "However, I suggest that we all go down to the living room and try to encourage Remus and Deceit to do the same. Provided," he paused for a moment, and his gaze flickered to Roman, "everyone feels they can be cordial."

They all nodded in agreement and trundled back down the stairs in a single-file line with Logan at the head.

Remus began to hum a funeral march as they descended. He had made himself comfortable on the couch, his head propped up against one of the armrests and his feet in Janus' lap.

"You're still here?" Virgil asked, surprised. "Sorry, I didn't mean-- I just would think you'd be off writing."

Remus waved a hand. "John Dee-ceit Rockefeller over here is helping me workshop some things."

Janus considered solidarity for a split second before deciding to act natural. "Am I? That's news to me."

Virgil hurried over and sat down on the floor with his back to the couch, eager to mitigate whatever could easily become a complete disaster. Patton sat down beside him in a show of support, leaving Roman and Logan to eye each other over the remaining armchair.

"You don't have to be shy," Remus said, pleased that he was being allowed to dominate the conversation. He thought for a second, picturing the living room sans coffee table and with a bigger couch. Then he yawned.

This triggered a chain reaction. Virgil and Janus, who had been looking at him, also yawned, followed shortly by Patton, then Roman, then Logan.

"Maybe we should go back to bed," Virgil suggested, checking his phone. It was only a little past 7:00.

"I'm staying right here," Remus insisted. "I even made the couch bigger and everything." Knowing what was about to happen, he pulled his feet off Janus' lap.

Sure enough, Janus stood. "Do come get me if you need anything," he said, already in the process of sinking out.

"Translation," Virgil said, "'Disturb me under penalty of death.'"

"I'm going to make coffee," Roman muttered, wary of the potential nightmares that might result from sleeping too close to Remus. "Anyone else want one?"

"No, thank you," said Logan. "I have work to do."

"Robot," Roman muttered as Logan sank out. "Anyone else? Virgil?"

Virgil was too sleepy to consider the potential disaster of leaving Remus, Patton, and Roman alone together. He could barely feel the caffeine in his system. "M'going to bed," he muttered, running one hand down his face. "Possibly for several thousand years."

"No slugs," Remus murmured.

"I'll go with you," Patton said.

Roman darted to the kitchen before they could sink out properly, realizing a moment too late what was going to happen.

He took his time in the kitchen, realizing with a sinking dread that he had accidentally boxed himself in. As much as he wanted to hide in the kitchen or sink out and have his coffee in his room, he knew full well he couldn't allow himself to do that.

Avoiding the living room because Remus was there was a kind of cowardice that Roman simply could not allow in himself. So he made his coffee, exacting a kind of petty joy in the shrill hum of the milk frother. Then he strode right into the living room and sat down next to Remus, who was making no effort whatsoever to hide the fact that he was staring.

The tense silence pressed down on both of them, aching against their ribs. Remus' fingers itched for his morningstar, a thousand fragmented revenge fantasies playing out in front of his open eyes in stunning technicolor. He could never see them through to the end, though. No matter how hard he tried to pin one down, his attention invariably wandered to the climax of another.

Oblivious to this, Roman sat and tried not to squirm. He hated awkward silences, and his desire to fill them verged on compulsion. The trouble was, he had no idea what he was supposed to say. The English language only had so many social niceties built in, and none of them covered reconnecting with one's disowned evil twin.

Remus' fervent, feverish gaze sent a nasty itch down Roman's spine, and it took a great deal of effort not to shudder. It irked Roman, not knowing which of Remus' idiosyncrasies were his own, and which were calculated to be as annoying as possible.

As much as Roman wanted to believe that he couldn't fathom how this distorted shadow of himself could ever be considered useful, the truth was that he could . Roman believed, deep down in the darkest part of himself, that he was half a function. He had vowed a thousand times over that he would work as hard as he needed to in order to make up the difference. He could be good, and if he was good enough then maybe Remus would just disappear.

"Does Deceit ever talk about me?" Roman asked, well aware that Remus had no context for the inquiry.

Remus rolled his eyes. He had half been hoping that Roman would attack him so he had an excuse to fight back. He supposed he should have known better that Roman's first concern would be his reputation. "Oh, yes, all the time. He's in love with you."

"That's not what I meant!" Roman said, blushing. "Does he ever talk about us ?"

"You and me?" Remus asked, genuinely surprised. "No. Why?"

Roman ignored the question. "Has he ever brought me up?"

"I don't know what kind of conversations you think we have down there," Remus said, confused, "but we mostly just have sensual, passionate group sex-- Wait, no, I promised Virgil I wouldn't antagonize you. Um." Roman raised an eyebrow and sat back to watch Remus flounder. "Well, no. It's never come up."

"So you don't think you're half a function?" Roman asked, striving to keep his tone light. He failed, but knew better than to let that show on his face.

"Is that what he said to you?" Remus asked, half-impressed and half-offended. "You really must have pissed him off!"

"Is that pride?" Roman asked, cocking his head. "You're impressed with me for that ?"

Remus ignored this in favor of addressing Roman's earlier point. He didn't lie often, but the topic at hadn't was something he couldn't even be honest with himself about. "No. I don't think I'm half a function. I could be perfectly capable of being Thomas' sole Creativity if I ever got the chance."

"We," said Roman, determined not to cede any ground. "Same. And I certainly wouldn't want any assistance from the likes of you."

They glared at each other, teetering on the edge of a real argument.

Of the two of them, it was Remus who harbored the deeper anger, scars of resentment burned jagged and destructive in his psyche. He clenched his fist around nothing, his promise to Virgil keeping his morningstar out of his grip.

Of the two of them, it was Remus who had the most to lose if this truce went badly.

Half-hating himself for it, he relaxed his hand and said, "Dragons have four limbs."

Roman's brow furrowed in confusion; he searched his brother's face before he remembered the childhood argument and grinned. "No, that would make it a wyvern. Dragons have six limbs."

"That's unrealistic."

"They're fantasy creatures! It doesn't have to be realistic!"

"Wyverns are dumb, anyway," Remus teased, sticking out his tongue.

To their mutual surprise, the bickering escalated, not into a fight, but into a deep and detailed debate over fantasy worldbuilding.

When Virgil woke up and came downstairs, it was to the sight of the living room covered in papers and two Creativities asleep on opposite ends of the couch.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #spicywrites #spicywrites a place where i can breathe

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