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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 months

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: *Cradles Logan's Percy in my hands* I don't get you but I'd still kill for you -Danny Words: 2,288 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Starting Line' -by Luke Hemmings

IX: Sorry I Threatened to Kill You, It Will Happen Again

"What do you mean?" I stare at the goddess. "I've been obedient, I never complain—who cursed me?"

Aphrodite moves a strand of hair out of my face with a pitiful expression. "It's not something you caused, my dear."

"Am I an actual arae?" I ask in horror. "My father did this?"

"Oh no, it wasn't his intention to curse you when he named you Arae," Aphrodite makes a face. "He had the brain of a monkey, but oh, if there was ever a mortal with charmspeak, that was your father..."

"Lady Aphrodite," I frown. "Focus?"

She pushes the plate of cookies toward me. "You've seen Janus."

"Yeah, but he didn't talk to me this time. I thought he was taunting me," I state.

"I'm here to warn you," she continues. "In this lifetime, you are my daughter, so I can grant you an advantage. Take it as a birthday present."

I want the gods to think about what they consider a proper gift, 'cause telling a young girl that she's got a centuries-old curse on her ain't it.

"That's generous," I say.

"Your first time around," the goddess sinks into the beauty of whatever memory she's revisiting. "People traveled from afar just to catch a glimpse of you. You were perfect..." she wrinkles her nose. "And wasted. Given to an empty carcass of a man."

"Okay," I reply, not following. "And when did this happen, exactly?"

"Then he came," Aphrodite sighs, not listening to me. "Young and charming—I saw him for what he was: your match!"

I feel like she's about to drop a bomb on me. "Cute."

Her eyes focus on me again. "It wasn't cute. It was destiny. I had to give you to him, you see, your union would jumpstart my son's mission. The end of the golden age for Greek Heroes had come at last."

I've heard that sentence before. Not when talking about my love life, but during my lessons with Jason. "Mom," I start, voice shaky. "Are you talking about the Trojan War?"

Aphrodite looks at me."You understand, then?"

"That's crazy," I blurt out.

"Don't lie!" The goddess takes the plate of cookies away. "I've given you enough clues throughout the years for you to figure it out, and you were born my smartest child, Arae. If you ignore it, you'll never break the curse—"

"What curse?" I exclaim in frustration. "I haven't heard anything about a curse!"

"Oenone's curse," Aphrodite declares. "She put it in place when Paris left her."

Ara drops the hammer and holds her injured finger cussing under her breath. This is the third time that she's hurt herself by not paying attention to what her hands are doing, which is not ideal when you're repairing a ship.

She thinks of her conversation with Leo last night. Ara has to tell him about the curse, but it's the kind of stuff that no matter when or how you say it, is bound to make things worse, and the more she waits, the more it scares her. She doesn't want to lose Leo.

Annabeth hands her a pair of safety gloves. "Won't do much to stop you from cutting off a finger, but it can help with the scratches and stuff."

"Thanks," Ara shakes her hand to get rid of the ache and then puts on the gloves. "I can't focus today... I don't know if Lily talked to you before we sailed..."

"I heard the screams," the girl replies, though she keeps it vague. "Wanna talk about it?"

Ara looks at the boards in front of her, lining them in place. "I don't even know where to start..."

"What do you mean?"

She goes back to work while she explains. "At first, it was about Nico, and then... I said things I'd never intended to say out loud and then Lily snapped too. I know I've been... difficult—"

"That's a way to put it," Annabeth walks past her.

"I thought it was for the best if, you know, if we didn't talk about... Michael," she clears her throat. "I had to look after our camp, I could grieve later, after making sure we were all okay."

The older girl sighs. "You wanna know what I think?"

Ara stops a second time and looks at her friend. "Always."

Annabeth leans against the mast, kicking some pieces of splintered wood as she gathers her thoughts.

"After what happened to Michael, you kept Lily in place until you smothered her." The girl points at the dagger hanging from Ara's belt. "You care about what everyone thinks a little too much and you forget about your feelings. I think this is exactly what you two needed, she can process her grief like she wants to, and you do the same. Codependency between members of a good team is still toxic."

Ara rubs her nose with the back of her hand and leaves a smudge of dirt on it. "But when I leave her alone, all she does is get in her way."

Annabeth laughs. "Look who's talking!"

"That's not me!" She argues. "I've always gone after the things I want!"

"Have you considered that never stopping is just as bad as not moving?" The girl raises a brow. "Next time, Ara, try sitting down instead of... what was your last near-death experience?"

Ara pouts. "Are you implying I rather die than take a nap? Do you really think I'm that insane?"

"I grew up with you, I know you are. Which reminds me," Annabeth walks up to her and grabs her by the shoulders. "Talk to Percy. He's super bummed out. I don't know what happened but he hasn't seen you in months and now you don't wanna talk to him 'cause you're too busy coddling Leo."

"Percy has you to coddle him," Ara replies grumpily.

"But you're his sister," her friend insists. "Girlfriends and boyfriends are good, but you two need each other. I know it because I know you both." Something behind Ara catches Annabeth's eye. She squints. "Blackjack?"

"Wait—wait," I start pacing the room. "Leo and I... are Helen and Paris?"

The statement sounds like something I'd say on my deathbed if I were in a soap opera. But my mom shrugs like this isn't news to her.

"Your soul once inhabited Helen's body, which is not the same as being her. You're Arae Jackson, the current curse bearer."

"But I was Helen of Troy once," I repeat numbly. "And Leo was Paris the loser."

Aphrodite gasps. "He wasn't a loser! He was one of the best romantic leads of ancient times! And that boy you love is carrying his curse!"

I wave my hand around to dismiss that. "Fine. Let's say we are, because why the Tartarus not, right? I died and was born again—and what, I found Leo and then... and then..."

I stop. It's been so long since I had those dreams that I'd almost forgotten about them, but now they're back all at once.

"Agape," I whisper, my heart pounding as I speak. "All those people in my dreams... they were all Leo?"

"Oh, you have regressions?" Aphrodite beams. "How lovely!"

"That's what they are?" I frown.

"Well, when a soul has been around for too long, they develop a slight immunity to the Lethe's powers, it creates a crevice in the mind. Some humans get to dream about their past lives, or they spend their first years with those memories until they're old enough to become a new person."

"But I..." I sit down slowly. "In all those... I'm never really with... Leo."

It's weird to pinpoint all those faces to a single name.

The second realization hits me like a train: In some of my dreams, I've gotten this feeling, like a part of me knows I died too soon. My hands go up and over my mouth, but they can't stop me from talking.

"Oenone's curse... kills us?"

Aphrodite looks away. "At first, I loved it. A nymph's heart so broken that marked several lifetimes, how romantic! I thought it'd be one of those petty curses that lasted one lifetime, then the arai would let you go... but you came back and found each other. And it happened again, exactly like the first time."

"Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?" I hesitate. "Shouldn't you be glad that I'm still fighting against it?"

"Each time, you live blindly," she tells me. "There was a time when you could've chosen to stay dead and wander the Asphodels fields for eternity, but you came back, and the arai like to play with you."

"We keep making the same mistakes..." Suddenly I feel exhausted, like all the centuries my soul has lived through are finally weighing on me.

Aphrodite seems genuinely sad. "I think it's because you keep dying young. You never grew out of that youthful optimism, convinced that you'll break the curse on your next try." She leans and holds my hands tightly. "But I think this time you made the right choice when you came back, my dear."

"What? Why?" I'm unable to release my hands.

"The fates have granted you a chance," she cups my face. "They gave you a prophecy."

"My prophecy's about Oenone's curse?"

"I'm sure of it!" My surroundings start to get fuzzy, I'm starting to wake up. "You've failed too many times, Ara, don't do it again!"

When Piper arrives with Percy and Jason both unconscious, Ara heaves a sigh and carries them to the sick bay with Coach's help.

"At this rate, we're going to run out of ambrosia," he groans while helping Ara to patch up the boys. "How come I never get invited on these violent trips?"

"'Cause I don't have enough stuff to put your limbs back in place," Ara grumbles.

"Leo, are we ready to sail?" Piper asks.

"Yeah, but—"

"Set course for Atlanta. I'll explain later."

"But..." He sees the urgency in the girl's eyes and gives in. "Okay."

"What hit him?" Annabeth examines Percy's injury and winces.

"Blackjack."

"What?"

"They got possessed, just like Leo," Piper explains. "Fought each other and would've probably died in the process if Blackjack hadn't shown up."

By the time she finishes the story, Jason and Percy are awake but still out of it. They don't remember much, and they can't get up either.

"Knocked out twice in two days. Some demigod." Jason makes a face when he looks at Percy. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to blast you."

Percy's body isn't as hurt as Ara's when she got hit by lightning, probably because he's more resilient. "Not the first time. Your big sister got me good once at camp."

Ara smiles while she puts away the unused bandages. "Same year I met Apollo."

"And Nico," Percy reminds her.

"Couldn't be a perfect year."

"Yeah, but..." Jason shifts awkwardly. "I could have killed you."

"Or I could have killed you," Percy replies.

"If there'd been an ocean in Kansas, maybe."

"I don't need an ocean—"

"Boys, I'm sure you both would've been wonderful at killing each other. But right now, you need some rest," Annabeth says.

"Food first," Percy sighs. "Please? And we really need to talk. Bacchus said some things that don't—"

"Bacchus?" Annabeth interrupts him. "Okay, fine. We need to talk. Mess hall. Ten minutes. I'll tell the others. And please, Percy... change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse."

Ara moves to the side so Annabeth can leave. Piper stays for a few more minutes and then takes Jason away to get him changed. Percy and Ara are left alone.

"You're lucky Blackjack didn't kick right through your hollow skull," she taunts him. "Mom would've killed me if all I'd brought back was a jigsaw of her son."

"Yeah, not ideal..." he rubs the back of his neck. "How is she? And Paul?"

"Worried, but when we located you, things got better. Not much, but they improved a bit. Dad decided to make repairs so Leo could visit more and—"

"Leo knows our parents?"

Ara leans against a cabinet and crosses her arms. "I told you, Percy, we've been dating for half a year. Everyone back home knows him."

He runs a hand through his hair, touches the bump at the back, and winces. "Crap. Does that mean you were thrown to the lake already?"

Ara wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, it was cold."

"Aw, man," he pouts and leans against the wall. "You hate the cold. Can't believe I missed it!"

"But you're back, and you'll be present at other stuff—and now that you've been possessed you'll cut Leo some slack, right?"

He sighs, pulling on the loose strands of his battered shirt. "Yeah, being possessed isn't fun."

She pats his knee with affection. "Let's get you changed."

He groans as he gets on his feet. "So how'd you two meet?"

"That's a fun story," she smiles. "I was looking for you with Annabeth, she'd had a dream the night before..."

As they make their way through the corridors, the stairs, and towards the cabins, Ara tells him about the first encounter she had with Leo, how bad it went, and then how it didn't matter because Leo still won her over.

Percy's sad that he couldn't witness the whole thing, and he'll have to ask Lily for details later. The girl's name causes Ara's gaze to shift for a brief second. Percy notices her expression and pauses. "What's wrong?"

"Lily and I fought," she confesses. "And now that Nico's been taken, if I don't get him on time... She might never speak to me again."

Percy squeezes her shoulder. "So that's what's been bothering you this whole time?"

"Not exactly..." Ara makes a face. "I'm sorry I was mean to you—"

"I wasn't any better..."

"You don't want me to get hurt," she says with understanding. "I get it, but my relationship with Leo is the one thing I can control, and I need to feel in control. When you questioned it, I got angry."

"Well, it happens to all of us," he pats her head. "No need to ruffle your feathers over it, Birdy. We'll rescue Nico."

Ara scowls. "Again."

"Again," Percy chuckles and guides her out of the room. "Hasn't been that many times though..."

"Speak for yourself," she scoffs.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicks

#twoidiots writing #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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welcometololaland · 1 year

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Fic Origin Story aka. Hyperfixations: the Original

A bunch of you tagged me back in this which is...fair because I should probably do my own if I'm going to expect people to tell me their life fic story. I'm SORRY I'm so obsessed with knowing about people it's a problem.

I'm living for all your responses please keep going I beg!

1. What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

I don't think it's a secret that I once upon a time wrote for the fandom that shall not be named, but my first fandom was actually Veronica Mars. I read fic on some website that no longer exists but was devoted entirely to LoVe (Logan/Veronica).

I never wrote and never left comments like a complete dick, but I was also 14 and it's like common knowledge I was a complete asshole as a child.

2. What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

For fic, it was a ridiculously terrible self-insert Veronica Mars story (except I inserted myself as a best friend not a love interest...interesting choice). I remember my character surfed and made people eat Vegemite. Which...I can't surf and I'm not even going to address the Vegemite thing.

I think I was 14. It never saw the light of day thank GOD.

3. What's a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

Wait, and find something you're really passionate about. I'd get stuck on a bunch of chaptered fics that seemed like good ideas but I had no real fire for. Then Speak for Yourself happened and I was like damn, this is what writing is supposed to feel like.

Also, don't write in the second person. Who does that? (me, I did that)

4. What's an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

A. The day @everwitch-magiks left me a comment and changed my life by ushering me into a group of fandom friends and lighting the RWRB fire.

B. The day @rmd-writes dropped into my inbox with a gentle 'hey, do you want to let me in your doc for beta purposes?' and then took up residence and never left my G drive / heart.

5. Post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

I have regret for accepting this suggestion. The below fic is a Hunger Games fic I wrote originally in 2013? but i reposted it to Ao3 in 2020 (shame - why did I do that). Also, note use of second person - a bold fucking choice that did not pay off 😂:

Time is something that you seem to forever wish for, and never seem to get. It feels like your whole life has been spent trying to grasp time with a firm hand and will it to stand still. It seems like you race against a clock ticking more rapidly with every day that passes. As all humans, your days are finite. But as the particular person that you are, chosen to lead a sick, twisted life of triumph and tragedy, the days slip by you so fast it feels like it is over before it has really had the chance to begin.

This is from my newest fic (which is somehow approaching 40k and only 3.5/10 chapters) 😬😬😬

TK rolls his eyes. “You’re pretty unobservant for a private investigator,” he murmurs. “If one more person offers to buy you a drink, I’m going to buy you a wedding ring and force you to wear it.”

“You’re— What?”

“I’m jealous,” TK says drily, arching an eyebrow in Carlos’ direction. “Didn’t realise I needed to spell it out for you.”

Carlos frowns. “Of annoying hedge fund managers trying to buy me overpriced drinks and talk me into heli-skiing?”

“Hedge fund managers in Austin?” TK smirks. “Oh baby, you found a good one.”

Not tagging anyone because I already spammed a bunch of people but tagging @reyesstrand @carlos-in-glasses @rmd-writes because you tagged me back and @clottedcreamfudge because you taught me how to be ridiculous and now you must deal with the consequences of your actions.

#ask game #tag game #ALTA #snippet #lola snippet #lola writes

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weebsinstash · 1 year

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I'm probably going to tune in for a few more chapters but I'm dropping True Luna already so, here's my synopsis/ragging on that I guess lmao. Honestly thank god it turned out to rub me the wrong way because it's over 100 chapters and momma needs to save her chapter-unlock coins for some REAL juicy shit kwim

(Is it just me or do the eyes on the woman seem. Off)

-I picked this story up because it was a rejection story, like I was on YouTube and got an ad for chapter 3 when she is rejected, and I'm dropping it because she's apparently falling in love with the rejector who i think is a coward honestly. I'm 26 chapters in and trust me, if there was another love interest, he would've appeared by now and they wouldn't be focusing so heavily on the rejector, Logan

-plot is this: protagonist Emma is the sister of the pack Beta, Andrew (shit they never even give the pack a name now that I think about it). Their parents were killed by rogues when Emma was little and her brother had to help raise her and they grew extremely close, im talking after their parents died they shared a bed for a whole year because Emma was too anxious and traumatized to fall asleep alone. Along with Andrew, there is also her friends Jacob and Amy, as well as the Alpha Logan, and his and Andrew's childhood friend, Sienna

-Sienna is this tale's white lotus aka the girl who's super sweet when people are around and an absolute demon when she's alone with Emma. She calls Emma names and insults her, but when Emma tried to tell Andrew in the past when it began years ago... he accuses her of being jealous of his childhood friend, the whole 9 yards of "just because I'm spending time with her and not you doesn't mean you're not still my sister"

-you would think like, they would respect Emma enough to put two and two together, "hey Emma isn't a dishonest person, even if she doesn't like Sienna she doesn't blatantly make things up" like Emma, as the pack Beta's sister, is in a sort of semi-authoritative position and has been studying pack law and rules and training for years to be as strong as she can for her pack, like her friend Jacob is a warrior who helps train her in secret and the current Luna, Logan's mom, is like a mother to her and thinks she's a great pack member like lowkey that's her adopted daughter

-before I get further I should mention the weird relationship dynamics. Emma is in some sort of, I don't even know if they're having sex but she's having some sort of relationship with Jacob and he openly tells her he loves her, but they haven't found their fated mates yet and chosen mates are looked down upon. Emma wants to give herself a little more time to see if she finds her fated mate before choosing Jacob, which is who she would have chosen if she had a brain and she even admits she loves him. Meanwhile, in her internal thoughts, she also admits that she wouldn't mind being Logan's mate and saying how well they match up with each other

-also. Uh. They say in this pack, the pack elders and such frown on chosen mates but. Like. It's kind of quietly snuck in there that people in the pack do still, you know, have casual sex and stuff, and I feel like that's extremely contradictory? Not to circle back around to my opinions on "if my fated mate was running around having tons of sex instead of like waiting for me" buuuut.... Emma even says she would be sad if her mate was a player who's been with a lot of girls

-so on your 18th birthday is when you get your wolf and earn the pack mindlinking powers and all that. Only those you invite to your first shift are allowed to attend, so she goes with Amy, Jacob, Andrew, and the Luna, and when Emma shifts, she is a pure white wolf, which is unheard of as all white wolves have colored spots or at least different colored paws. Her wolf's name is Eliza.

-sigh. After both wolves have had their first shift is when you can sense your mate and all that. Emma is, in her own home, which by the way, brief detour, because Sienna is Logan and Andrew's childhood friend the bitch is constantly in Emma's house so she can't even be comfortable when she's at home, but, she's in her room and she hears a knock on the front door and goes downstairs, descending the stairs and "smelling the most delicious scent I had ever experienced", she comes face to face with. Logan. Who is visibly tense and even looking angry which confuses her because she can tell the moment they lock eyes that theyre fated mates. Andrew tells her to go to her room and she complies but stays at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop

-I wouldn't describe it exactly like 'incestuous' but I personally really do not like how her brother uh infantilizes her tbh, like if i were to look at this from a human perspective i would say he struggles to separate from his role as her guardian (as in parent) and protector once she becomes an adult. Technically she just turned 18 and that's still young right but that IS a legal adult, and Andrew literally has a conversation with Jacob about how he can't chose Emma as his mate, that Emma is young and needs a few years just to see if she can find her fated mate, and I'm just sitting here extremely uncomfortable because there are SEVERAL TIMES Andrew uh, basically, I don't even know if it's because of pack rank or duty or whatever but there are multiple conversations with Andrew basically guarding her chastity??? Hes hsing language like "i wont allow it/id be ok with that" like she needs his permission or some shit and Emma is 18 and can make her own choices thank you??? It's kind of gross her biological brother is talking to men behind her back about how HE won't allow her to do this or that and he's. Talking about her having relationships?

It's controlling and creepy in my opinion like if you asked me to write a hypothetical platonic yandere sibling figure, I would choose a sibling who controls who you hang out with and doesn't let you date at all and just, eugh it just grosses me out. Even later in the story a character looks at Andrew because they were talking about Logan rejecting Emma and this person says "and you LET that happen?" Uhhhhhhh not to defend Logan but he had his own choice, so like why is the tone of the conversation "oh Andrew gets to pick and choose his baby sister's mate" as if Andrew could even decide whatever the fuck Logan does too

-anyways Emma overhears them talking and the conversation is so fucking stupid. There have been increasing rogue attacks and they even have a leader, called only the Rogue King, coordinating large attacks and the pack needs to be strong more than ever. Logan claims Emma is too young to lead as Luna and not physically strong enough, even though when it switches to Logan's POV he outright admits he loves her and thinks she's beautiful and cool and all that. he, in my opinion, decides to be a little pussy and "oh, I must do what's best for the pack, SIENNA will make a better Luna" and I think he's fucking her anyways so. Emma overhears her own brother agree and say she isn't strong enough even though Emma has been secretly training with Jacob and is actually much stronger than they think. And uh. Gee the rejection is still the DAY OF her birthday. Like I'm on chapter 26 and all thats taken place in like a week, in between a couple days before Emma's birthday up until like 3 days after

-the rejection honestly fucks up her mental health so bad she doesn't eat or sleep for 2 days straight even though she tries, she just lies in bed staring at the ceiling having racing thoughts because her brother and her mate don't believe her and her bully is threatening to exile her when she becomes Luna, which, after Logan chooses Sienna as future Luna she escalates and outright states she could have Emma killed and make it look like an accident

-because she is so stressed and sleep deprived, Emma gets visibly scratched and beat up during a training. Her internal monologue is that her brother and Logan will see her extremely rare temporary weakness and it will enforce their opinion she's some fragile loser and they made the right choice. She is entirely correct and it is so fucking depressing, like the author honestly kind of went too deep in having them just genuinely look down on her for me to like either of them, I was listening to this story legitimately wishing Emma would leave the pack entirely to get rid of Logan AND her brother like I am still, genuinely, genuinely, hoping like the rogue king or some fucking idk lycan will show up and Emma gets a new mate but, I can tell it isn't happening

-there is so much I genuinely don't like about Logan. A lot of stories describe the mate bond being able to make you more jealous and possessive or Alphas being excessive about it but there are times when Logan is growling because "oh no a MALE is near MY MATE" and its just in really GENUINELY INAPPROPRIATE TIMES like when Emma is getting examined by A DOCTOR BECAUSE SHE'S INJURED and even HER OWN BIOLOGICAL BROTHER. Like Emma zones out during a training and doesn't block a hit and she gets two of her ribs broken and btw Logan can feel things through the mate bond so of course they come bug her when she is already tired and stressed and cranky and doesn't want to see them

-"oh no Emma is too tired and weak to walk home" cue Logan insisting it's him and stopping her friend Jacob from doing it "because no man will touch my mate blah blah blah" like fuck you I am literally the Reader and even I don't want you touching her. Why not have her brother carry her. Just another obligatory forced touch to further brainwash them both with the mate bond

-I really don't like a lot of Logan's internal dialogue either, or perhaps it's the way packs are written in this story. Everything has an air of... no free will? A cult that beats you down and leaves no room for you to decide for yourself? Alpha commands can physically force you to do and say things and they can even make them hurt, and Logan occasionally will think shit like "he can't speak to me like that. He'll be punished for this". great example is before Emma breaks her ribs but after her birthday, once when theyre alone, Sienna shows up and mocks Emma "i always wanted to see the face of the pathetic bitch whos opportunity as Luna i was taking away (as in whomever turned out to be Logan's mate regardless), but its a treat that its you!" and mocking her for being rejected while Emma is trying to stay calm.

Sienna pushes and pushes until Emma finally calls her a bitch and oh no, that's when Logan and Derek magically conveniently come in to berate Emma and Sienna whips out the fake tears, "oh she must not be taking this whole mate thing well, im sorry, it's not her fault she just needs more time, although not to be mean, she DID just insult her future Luna 🥺" and apparently even just something as small as that, Emma calling Sienna a bitch, is worthy of 'a punishment' because, even though Sienna is not even officially Luna yet, because she is going to be Luna IN THE FUTURE, Emma has to be punished for... oh no calling her a mean name? Logan literally tells Andrew or says internally, "she'll have to be punished later"

-the very next day Sienna comes into her bedroom and basically breaks healing ribs a second time. She tells Amy and Jacob, who she always tells about being abused, but she lies to Andrew and Logan because she knows they won't believe her. Like. It made me want to cry, Emma has been called weak and been rejected and her brother won't believe her and he asks "why won't you talk to me? What's wrong?" And she just quietly asks "why don't you believe me about Sienna" and he just. Shuts her down with his fake support "you just need to give her a chance, she's really great, I don't know why you're doing this but blah blah blah" I legitimately wish she would have abandoned her brother and left him with nothing but he helped raise her and they're traumabonded

-ugh. So. It's minor but I still hated it: Emma is angry and upset and stressed and wants to be alone and her brother essentially forces himself into her bed to sleep beside her to help her sleep like she was younger. It does help her and she still loves her brother but to me as the reader this was infuriating because from my standpoint she is literally not being allowed to make any decisions for herself in any way whatsoever and can't even have space in her own fucking house, in her own fucking BED?

-wanna know the biggest reason why I'm so mad. Wanna know. Because Sienna's abuse escalates even further. Sienna has Emma KIDNAPPED by a rogue with every intention of having her killed after Logan marks Sienna, because once he's formed a new mate bond he won't be able to sense Emma being. Raped and then murdered. Like Sienna says it outright that the rogue can do whatever he wants once she gets marked. And you know what Sienna's plan is. It makes me want to fucking shake. She has the rogue beat her up and runs back to Logan and Andrew and claims "I didn't even do anything, Emma just saw me and screamed I took Logan from her and she attacked me"

And

They

Believe her.

INSTANTLY, NO HESITATION, BEWILDERED AND SHOCKED BUT THEY BELIEVE HER just throw both goddamn men away at this point smfh

Logan is one thing but her own fucking brother who helped raise her???? Like Sienna's master plan is to claim Emma said she'd rather be a rogue than have Sienna as a Luna. Andrew and Logan don't believe THAT PART, because her parents were killed by rogues and that would DEVASTATE Andrew, but they both 100% accept at face value that Emma must have attacked Sienna who is literally described as having a large wound on her head. Like. It drives me fucking crazy. Emma is restrained and dosed with wolfsbane, eventually going to be killed, and meanwhile Logan is all "she has to be punished for attacking Sienna but I won't allow her to become a rogue" uh to be honest I think being forced to stay in a pack where an Alpha can literally basically mindcontrol you and finds it fit to assault you for hurting his feelings would be worse than being a rogue "but wolves are pack creatures, social animals, we have to live in communities or else we get lonely and could go crazy" and you all obviously treat each other SO well don't you 🙄

-Jacob mans up and tells Andrew and Logan to their faces that Emma tried to tell them so many times about what was happening and they never believed her. He says outright, "if Emma dies the blood is on both of your hands" meanwhile Logan is just thinking like "I should kill him for disrespecting the alpha" nd Andrew just breaks his nose and it's like, awwww are you mad because he's entirely correct? Poor delicate insecure little wolves

And guess what. Before Logan and Andrew were alerted about Sienna being "attacked" they were literally having a meeting with another Alpha (who by the way? Biggest fucking cockblock. They mention his name as early as like chapter 4 or 5 and I was getting excited because it was so early in the story I thought "oh she was just rejected and now another Alpha is suddenly visiting, he's her second chance mate" but nope.) and this Alpha's name is Drake and his Beta is Josh (dont think i dont see what you did there) and Drake is like "hey we captured a rogue and interrogated him and he told us the rogue king's goal is there's a prophecy or some shit of a powerful shewolf mated to an Alpha, A TRUE LUNA, who draws power from the love of her pack, who will be strong and wise and lead like no other Luna, her pack will be truly strong and she will birth a new, stronger generation of wolves and the rogue king wants her as his mate and also we hear she's supposed to be pure white?"

So, brief pause because I especially hate the emphasis that she's destined to birth a new generation or whatever because I personally am against uhhhhh her being used as a glorified breeding whore after she was rejected for perceived weakness "oh we treated you like shit BEFORE EVEN GIVING YOU A CHANCE TO PROVE YOURSELF but now that you're strong and convenient to us now we want lots of babies out of you" fuck off, like genuinely

In a better story Logan would have his nose rubbed in the pissed stain carpet of his failure of rejecting Emma when she takes another mate and he finds out too late that he had a strong wise Luna right beside him all along, but no, before Sienna pulled her kidnapping fuckery, they had a brief make-out session at a party and, she's obviously falling for the bond and all that and I refuse to read this to the end 🙄 I don't like Logan, I don't like Andrew, I really don't like that from a narrative standpoint Logan is not actually really suffering any consequences for what he did, he just gets to, hurt Emma and throw her away and then he gets rewarded with her anyways? Geez. I keep finding good stories that have actual female empowerment and they lull me into a false sense of security and I wind up being disappointed when I find things like this 😩

#weebwolves #weebreviews

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spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Intertwined - Chapter 4

Chapter: 4/8

Additional Notes: My AO3, WizardGlick, is 3 chapters ahead on this. Critical thinking exercise: Read the following Twin Peaks quote and consider how it related to Intertwined and to post-PoF as a whole:

WINDOM EARLE: What do you fear most in the world?

MAJOR BRIGGS: The possibility that love is not enough.

Chapter Content Warnings: Again, it's a hanahaki fic.

Excerpt: "Here's what I want you to do," Janus said, and his voice was surprisingly tender given the hard look on his face. "Cook for yourself. Don't make something you can take to the others later. Don't make something to share with me. I'm giving you a free pass to be selfish."

Yesterday, Patton supposed, could have gone worse. He had haunted the kitchen after his departure from Janus, begging the mindscape for some sort of hint. Like the answer to all their troubles was lurking in Thomas’ subconscious, just out of reach.

When morning came, he returned to Roman and Logan's rooms, was again rebuffed, and so floated back to the kitchen, made himself some coffee, and sat down at the counter. Again, he reached out with his mind for some kind of reassurance. He had to fix this. There had to be something he could do.

A 5,000 piece puzzle appeared in front of Patton. The image on the box was that of dogs playing poker, captioned A Friend in Need. The subconscious was funny sometimes, in a way that made Patton feel kind of sick and hollow. He opened the box and shook the puzzle pieces put onto the counter. It was a way to pass the time, at least.

A few hours crawled by. Patton’s hands began to shake from the caffeine, and he knew he should eat something, but… It almost didn’t seem worth the effort. He was happy to cook for his fam-ILY, but, when it was just him, what was the point? He put down another edge piece and flinched at the sudden appearance of Virgil in front of the coffee pot. Virgil had made himself scarce after yesterday’s meeting, only reappearing to turn down Patton’s offer of dinner. Patton couldn’t even blame him. How terrible, to wake up after a bad day and find your friends inconsolable and enemies at your door.

“Hi,” Patton said. Finding faux-happiness out of reach, he settled for ‘not completely miserable’ instead.

“Did you eat?” Virgil asked, pouring coffee into a purple mug decorated with this logo.

Patton saw no reason to lie, not about this. “Not yet. I got a little distracted.”

“Mm-hm,” said Virgil.

“Listen,” Patton said, already getting up to make toast. “Are you okay?”

Virgil shrugged and opened up another cabinet. “Want some orange juice?”

"Um, sure." Patton got out the bread and popped a few slices into the toaster. "Thank you."

"No prob." Virgil stood on his toes and got down two glasses, pivoted to the fridge for the orange juice.

"It's just," Patton said, "You don’t seem very upset?" It wasn't that Virgil was necessarily acting upbeat , but… Well, Patton had been expecting something more intense than Virgil's baseline levels of casualty.

"I am," Virgil said. "But I also want orange juice."

"Oh." Patton fell silent. His own feelings were so big and loud in his head they didn't really leave room for anything else. In the light of everything that had happened, Virgil's response felt cold. Patton had half a mind to tell him so, except that… Well, he had no room to talk about 'proper' emotional responses to things. If this was how Virgil wanted to navigate the situation, that was his right. "Did you talk to Roman yesterday?"

"Sorta." Virgil put the orange juice back, scooted a glass to Patton, and took a seat on the counter. "He said he wasn't ready to talk, but might be soon."

"To you?"

"Yeah." Virgil's expression was cloudy. "To me."

"That's a lot," Patton said, treading cautiously. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Virgil's knuckles went white around his glass, so much that Patton was worried he might break it. "Oh, there's plenty I want to say," he said darkly. "To you and to-- to him."

"Janus," Patton said, feeling it important, somehow, to say his name.

"Yeah. To Janus."

"You can," Patton said. "To me. I won't get mad."

"I just don't understand!" Virgil said, the words exploding from his chest. "What did he say to you to make you trust him? After everything he did to Roman, to you, to Thomas! What did he say?" It was almost a plea, "What did he say?"

"I already told you, kiddo," Patton said, poking at the water droplets collecting on the side of his glass, unable to remember that they were called. Logan would know. "I made a choice to trust him."

"But why ?"

"I don't know, I just-- I felt something. I don't know if I can explain it in a way you can understand. I just got it. I understood what it was all for. "

"So, what, he just gets a free pass for treating us all like crap? Just gets to talk his way out of consequences?"

"Well, no." Patton kicked the toes of his loafers against the molding under the counter. "But I don't know that it would do any good to… punish him? Be cold, be mean, yell at him. What's done is done. I'm not asking you to forgive him."

"Good, 'cause I don't."

"But I also need you to understand that I made my choice and I'm committing to it. I…" Patton smiled sadly, gazing at the countertop without really seeing it. "I gave my word, in a way."

"Fine," Virgil growled. "But if he hurts you, if he does what he did to Roman and Logan, I swear, I swear--" Patton covered his ears briefly and Virgil seemed to get the message. "Well. I'll avenge you."

"Thanks, Virgil." Patton smiled again, happier this time, and looked Virgil in the face. It really wasn't all that long ago that he had thought of Virgil as an enemy. And now look at them. "I'm proud of you, you know."

"You are?"

"Of course I am! You've been a really good friend to, to all of us. And I'm so happy--"

"Stop," Virgil said, pulling up his hood. "Stop, stop, stop."

"Aw, did I make you blush?" Patton teased.

"Yeah," Virgil said, his voice breaking on that one syllable. He cleared his throat. "Let's not-- I'm gonna--"

"Is something wrong?" Patton asked, already reaching out for a hug. Virgil couldn't see him with his face buried in his hood, so Patton stopped short and let his arms fall to his sides.

"I just, uh." Virgil took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, swept his hood back with a jerky motion. "Sometimes I don't feel like I deserve all this."

"Oh, kiddo, of course you do!" Patton said, again holding out his arms for a hug. Virgil instead held out his hand, and Patton took it in his own, determined to communicate all the love and devotion he could through that simple contact. He smiled at the matching weave of their friendship bracelets, smiled at the memory of sitting side-by-side with Virgil as they both struggled with five-strand braids.

Virgil nodded, and his breathing was still shaky and spastic when he said, "I'm gonna go-- I'm not going off to cry all by myself, if, uh, if you're worried about that. I just need… Uh. Yeah."

Patton nodded, hurriedly snatching the half-cooked toast from the toaster and imagining it smeared with Crofter’s and butter, arranged neatly on a plate. "Okay!" He said with false cheer, passing the plate to Virgil. "Come get me if you need anything! Maybe we can watch Ghost Adventures tonight."

"Sounds good," Virgil said, slightly muffled around his hand, as he was chewing at his thumbnail. "Later." He sank out.

Patton sighed and stared at their untouched orange juice glasses. Even when he was trying to fix things, he made people upset.

A drop of water slid down the side of Virgil's glass, pooled on the countertop. Patton stared at it as another followed.

What did it truly mean to deserve something, anyway? It was something Janus would probably have an opinion on. He seemed to have opinions on most things. Maybe Patton could ask him in a bit.

“Did you need me for something?

Oh, okay, or Patton could ask him now. He turned, unsmiling to Janus. It wasn’t that he wasn’t cheered by Janus’ presence, but that he had no reason to lie. Janus had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't depending on Patton for anything. “Sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to steal you.”

“No harm, no foul,” Janus said, and sighed so heavily his breath displaced a few puzzle pieces. “As you can see, I was hard at work.” Despite this claim, he wore a hard, annoyed expression and Patton remembered with a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was dealing with a liar. "Did you need help with your puzzle?" Janus asked.

Just like that, Patton's heart leapt. "You'll stay?"

Janus shrugged. "I suppose I can clear a space in my schedule."

Patton stood to get him some coffee. The pot was empty, but it was simple enough to imagine it full again. Ordinarily, he disliked the laziness of misusing Thomas' imagination, but he couldn't deny that it was convenient sometimes. He could tell he was on the brink of annoying Janus (somehow) and didn't want to risk pushing him over the edge. "Have you eaten?"

"Have you?" Janus asked, side-eyeing the remaining slices of toast sitting in the toaster. Patton had forgotten all about them.

"I guess it slipped my mind," Patton turned around and set a coffee mug on the counter in front of Janus, then rounded it to sit down again. He tried not to notice that Janus had scooted his chair away from Patton's, that he leaned on his elbow so they were even farther apart.

"Hm," said Janus, making a face. He didn't push it, and Patton was grateful for that. "Oh, and thank you."

"Of course," Patton said.

He watched Janus for a moment. He handled the puzzle pieces with difficulty, his gloves impeding his ability to pick them up. When he realized he was staring, he turned away and started fitting more edge pieces into place.

He couldn't decide if the quiet was pleasant or awkward. It was kind of nice, kind of domestic, sitting here with Janus, but he couldn't help but feel a kind of tension in the air.

Then Janus turned away and started coughing. Patton reached out to put a hand on his back, caught himself, pulled away. The deep, jagged sound made him cringe. He was no stranger to coughing fits, none of them were, brought on by Thomas' cat allergy. But this had come out of nowhere.

"You okay?" Patton asked when Janus resurfaced. Maybe he was just projecting, but he thought Janus looked a little pale on his human side.

"It's warmer today, isn't it?" Janus said, not looking at Patton.

"Huh?"

"It's not as cold. Roman seems to have gotten ahold of himself somewhat."

"Um, yeah, I guess." Patton furrowed his brow, trying to get a good look at Janus. "But Janus, are you okay?"

"Fine," said Janus. "Just inhaled some coffee, that's all."

But his hands shook as he slid a blue puzzle piece down the counter, and Patton was already halfway out of his seat before he even realized what he was doing. "You know, I think I will make breakfast."

"A little late now," Janus said. "By the way, did you really call me all the way down here just to work on a puzzle?"

"So brunch, then," Patton said. "And to be honest, no."

"Oh, do be honest," Janus said, leaning against the counter and resting his chin in his palm.

But Patton's priorities had shifted beyond philosophical debate. He had to take care of Janus now, get him comfortable, get him honest. He had to. "It's not important anymore."

"Hm," said Janus. He cleared his throat quietly, winced. "Well, now I'm not curious at all."

"It's okay," Patton said, trying for a reassuring smile. "We can talk about it later." He spun around, trying to decide what to make. Toast sounded wholly unappealing now, and he should choose something that would be easy on Janus' throat--

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, by the way," Janus said.

"Making brunch?" Patton said with faux-innocence.

"Mm-hm. And what did you have in mind?"

"Soup."

"Patton," Janus said in a chastising tone. "I don't need you to take care of me. I need you to take care of you."

"That cough sounded like it hurt," Patton said, defeated.

Janus sat back and spread his arms out as though to show himself to Patton. "It did. It went away on its own. I'm fine."

Patton wasn't sure what to say to that. He scratched at his friendship bracelets, embarrassed. "Oh."

"Here's what I want you to do," Janus said, and his voice was surprisingly tender given the hard look on his face. "Cook for yourself. Don't make something you can take to the others later. Don't make something to share with me. I'm giving you a free pass to be selfish."

"But that's wrong!" Patton said reflexively. He regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but it wasn't like he could take them back. "Not for you," he hastened to explain. "That's your job. But me?"

"I can't very well be selfish for you," Janus said. He seemed annoyed, digging his fingers into both sides of his midriff in a way that looked decidedly painful. "Just try it. It won't be the end of the world."

And Patton wanted to. He didn't want to let Janus down, but… Where did it end? Where did it stop?

"Patton," Janus said. "I can see you catastrophizing."

"Sorry," said Patton, feeling close to tears. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I just… I don't know who I am or what I want or if I'm even allowed to want."

"Breakfast, Patton. That's all. One little thing."

"Okay," Patton took a deep breath. Calm down. Make food. He could do that.

"There's nothing else," Janus said. "Just us, right now. Just this room. No consequences."

"Okay," Patton said. Cinnamon rolls. He wanted mini cinnamon rolls.

"Good," said Janus. "You're okay." He cleared his throat again, coughed a little behind closed lips. Patton forced himself not to notice, knowing that it would make Janus annoyed if he pointed it out or tried to help.

"I hope so," Patton muttered, half to himself, as he got his ingredients together. A phrase popped into his head and he shouted it out impulsively, "Mise en place!"

"Bless you?" Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no." Patton smiled. "Getting all your ingredients together. Mise en place."

"Ah," said Janus. He smiled too, his human eye crinkling at the corner. Patton almost sighed at the sight. Janus seemed to hold himself above human standards sometimes. He presented himself as something cold and pure, unbreakable and untouchable and utterly perfect. There was something so beautiful about seeing him step down from the pedestal. Janus seemed to notice Patton staring and turned away, surprisingly demure. "How about some music?"

A turntable appeared on the counter, spinning something inoffensive and charmingly lo-fi. "That's nice," Patton said. He didn't recognize the artist, but it didn't really matter. The music seemed to slide into the cracks of their conversation, filling out the empty spaces and projecting calm throughout the kitchen.

So Patton made cinnamon rolls and Janus worked on the puzzle while he sipped his coffee, and they both pretended not to notice the ragged coughs that Janus couldn't bury under the music no matter how hard he tried.

#moceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #spicywrites #spicywrites intertwined

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agentnolastname · 3 years

Text

Half a Heart

An OH alternate universe where Casey Valentine got into Mass Kenmore Hospital's resident program instead, but she ends up meeting Ethan Ramsey anyway.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X Casey Valentine (MC)

Chapter 1

Summary: Casey runs into a car crash on her way to her apartment less than a day before her first shift as Mass Kenmore resident.

"A resident. At Mass Kenmore. I actually start my shift in a few hours." She says still not sure of how to continue speaking without stuttering.

"Oh, that's nice, I guess." Ethan says and hangs the chart at the end of the bed. "I'm gonna check on other patients. You can stay here as long as you want."

Casey nods at this and smiles. "Thanks, Dr. Ramsey."

"You're welcome." Ethan stops by the door and faced her again. "You did well. Be confident next time, Rookie."

Word Count: ~1.6K

Trigger Warning: Car Crash, Accident

Note: May contain inaccuracies

***

"Carl, we seriously have to go now, I'm running late!" Casey stumbles upon their porch as she hastily puts her boots on.

Tomorrow is her first day as a resident, and there's only one flight scheduled for Boston today. Missing it, means not being able to attend her first day. That's why she really don't want to be late. Somehow, her brother does not feel her urgency though.

"You still have a couple of hours away from your flight." He says with a straught face as he walks past her, entering the car and opening the engine. Casey enters the car immediately, closing the door off with a bang. Carl laughs at this. "You need to stop being so nervous. You'll make it, and you'll enter Mass Kenmore head up high tomorrow. You'll do great."

Casey just snorts, rolling her eyes, "Well, thanks for the vouch of confidence but the plane won't wait."

They both shared a laugh as the car starts zooming through the highway.

***

It was a seven-hour flight, but it went by fast. She didn't even know they were landing, only realizing it once they actually did. As soon as she got off the plane, she yawns and stretches. Looking around, the thought finally sinks in.

She is indeed in Boston. Alone and about to spend residency in one of the city's most promising hospital. She wasn't sure if she is ready for this, but standing there right now at the Boston Logan International made her realize one thing. It's now or never and the only thing she wouldn't be able to accept is failure. She smiles to herself capturing a picture to send to her family before getting an uber.

It wasn't long before a black sedan stops in front of her. She immediately puts her bags inside and steps inside the car, giving her apartment address to the driver before she eases back into her seat.

Boston, I hope you're ready for me.

***

The drive was supposed to be a short one, considering that her apartment was just minutes away from both the airport and Mass Kenmore. However, her car stops in the highway, just a short distance away from what seemed to be a crash. She immediately got out of her car and walks towards the scene being cleared by paramedics. She stares out in shock.

Sure, they were warned about things like this before, but even during her internship, she never experienced something like this. She scanned the area assessing how bad the situation is. Two long school busses are completely toppled over, and with only a couple of paramedics out, she's sure they aren't gonna be finished anytime soon.

She sighs, running to the triage tent where she saw a paramedic furiously going through materials.

"Are there any doctors present yet?" She asked, the man just looked at her for a brief moment, continuing what he had been doing as he answered her question.

"None. They're on their way though."

She nods as she moves out of the tent again, scanning the area. She saw a little boy not too far away, desperately trying to move his fingers. She immediately runs to where he is.

The kid is stuck in a limbo, two pieces of metal are piercing him, one on the chest and on the abdomen.

"Code red! Someone get in here!" She shouted waiting for a paramedic. One of the EMTs run to her direction pulling a gurney along with him. Another paramedic helps to remove the metal from the boy, slowly lifting it up. The EMT carried the boy carefully into the gurney. Casey follows suit, since the boy had his hand wrapped on her finger, looking at her with tears in his eyes. "You're gonna be fine."

They rode the ambulance and starts making their way to the hospital. The EMT had attached an EKG on the child.

She leans back on the seat, sending a quick text to her uber asking him to drop her things at her apartment. Then she watched the kid closely and noticed how his breathing became rapid, his jugular vein distended.

"How many minutes before the nearest hospital?"

"Edenbrook is atleat 10 minutes away."

"He's tamponading, i'm afraid we can't wait that much." She bites her lip, unsure of what to do. She's an internal medicine resident, performing anything on the boy might cause her license. However, if she does nothing, he'll have no chance at all. "I need a needle and a catheter, I'm gonna do a pericardiocentesis."

"Are you allowed to do this?"

"Do you want this kid saved?"

The EMT did not speak again, instead he handed her the needle. Which she immediately took.

"We don't have an ultrasound, you're gonna have to go in blind." Casey nods at this, shifting her gaze into the young boy's chest.

"Tell me if there's even the slightest ST elevation."

Here's to praying it'll all goes well.

***

It felt like the longest ride. The pericardiocentesis went smoothly, the kid's breathing seemed to normalize after she did it. Pericardial fluid is still draining when they arrived at the hospital. The kid had held her hand again after she finished doing it.

I have to stop being attached to people this fast.

She shakes her head as the doors opened, they were immediately greeted by a couple of hospital interns.

"Carter Thompson, a nine-year-old male, with multiple metal puncture wounds obtained from the bus crash." The EMT nods at Casey hoping she'd explain the situation further.

"His BP is 100 over 80, he went under a cardiac tamponade on the way so I had to perform an emergency pericardiocentesis. One of his arms looks obviously fractured."

"Who are you?" One of the residents looked at her, confused.

Right. Who am I. A kid is dying, Karen.

"I'm Casey Valentine. I was on my way when I saw the crash." She said. The interns just nod despite the still confused faces. She watched as they pull the gurney away, walking towards the hospital.

"I think you've made quite the call." The EMT says suddenly.

"I hope so." She smiled at him. "By the way, I'm Casey. I guess you've already heard earlier. I believe I haven't gotten your name, though."

"I'm Rafael."

"Nice name." She says as he went inside the ambulance to fix the equipments inside, letting another EMT replace the equipments taken earlier. "I think I'm gonna head inside to check on him."

"I think you should." Rafael nods and offers his hands. Casey takes and shakes it. "It was nice meeting you."

"You, too. Looking forward to see you again, soon." With that she enters the hospital.

***

She was waiting for an update for a couple of hours. She sat on the lobby checking in on her work groupchat every once in a while. She's tired from the flight, and the fiasco earlier, yet she can't find herself leaving. She would just like to make sure the boy is okay.

"Is there anyone here who knows Carter Thompson?" She sat still, waiting for someone to speak. A few seconds after, no one did. So she stands instead and approaches the nurse.

"I was the one who took him in earlier." She says. The nurse nods leading her into a room where a doctor stands, busy writing on a chart while Carter lies on the bed, still unconscious.

"Dr. Ramsey, his guardians aren't here." The nurse said the moment they got inside the room.

"We're gonna have to wait for them then."

"There's someone who is waiting for an update on him though."

Casey shifts uncomfortably as the attending looks up from his charts, his eyes landing on her.

"Who are you?" He asked, voice stern. Casey couldn't help but stare.

How is this hospital filled with good-looking people?

She clears her throat when she noticed that the man still looks at her with a straight face.

"I brought him in earlier."

"Oh, you performed the pericardiocentesis." He says and puts the chart down, turning to face her. "A good call, I must say. He is doing fine now."

Casey looks at him expectantly.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything more."

Right. Confidentiality protocols.

Nodding, she speaks. "I just want to make sure he's alright. I'm not sure if I've done the procedure right earlier."

"You're a rookie?" Ethan is not one for small talks yet he found himself wanting to have a small conversation with the woman that is standing before him.

"A resident. At Mass Kenmore. I actually start my shift in a few hours." She says still not sure of how to continue speaking without stuttering.

Casey what did your brother tell you about simping?

"Oh, that's nice, I guess." Ethan says and hangs the chart at the end of the bed. "I'm gonna check on other patients. You can stay here as long as you want."

Casey nods at this and smiles. "Thanks, Dr. Ramsey."

"You're welcome." Ethan stops by the door and faced her again. "You did well. Be confident next time, Rookie." He says as he turns to leave. And then he walked away, leaving Casey with a big smile on her face.

***

Note: Hello! This is my first attempt on writing a chaptered fic, this is also my first time to write something OH-related. I hope this is atleast okay to read;-; that's the end of chapter 1! I'll update as soon as I finish the next part!

Taglist: @mvalentine @anotherbeingsworld @starberrybliss @nikki-2406 @clowneryme @drariellevalentine @lillylavander20

#choices fic writers creations #choices fic #open heart fic #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #casey valentine #choices open heart #open heart choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry choices #fics of the week

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waokevale · 4 years

Text

Porcelain Face - Chapter 7

Both of the boys came running into the class, saying:

-"WE'RE VERY SORRY LO- MR.BERRY, WE OVERSLEPT-" They both yelled in unison until they noticed what was going on.

They didn't missed the lesson but there was something else that caught their attention.

Mostly Ethan's as Virgil looked down, covering his masked face.

There was a new student in class.

Apparently he was already after the introduction part and didn't look so sure about repeating himself just because someone was late.

-"Well...this is awkward." - The new kid said as Logan sighed and just told the late two to sit down.

The new kid looked rather...Interesting?

But more than that he looked like he belonged with the popular kids which didn't make things any better.

He had black, cropped leather jacket, orange shirt, ripped tight jeans, fingerless gloves and...A pair of sunglasses on his face?

That was a pretty strange look for spring but no one commented on that.

He looked pretty confident and that was usually never a good sign.

When Ethan first introduced himself he was pretty flustered and shy but this new kid though had this weird indescriptible vibe.

It even seemed like he was eyeing Virgil which made the porcelain boy glare at the new kid in suspicion.

As they both sat down the kid was already talking about himself though neither of the two boys really listened.

The part that they actually heard was just:

-"Aaand there's nothing left for ya'll to know about me. Can I finally sit down teach'?

Logan then nodded also clearly not understanding half of the things the boy just said.

After the rest of lesson ended,

All of the students were now all heading out of the class.

Virgil finally looked up as he got out of the class with Ethan.

Now the new guy was pretty sure, as he ignored all the popular kids that wanted to talk to him because of his interesting appearance as he went to the two of the late boys to introduce himself properly.

-"It's nice to see you again Eighty, oh and hi there beanie girl." He said as both of them looked very confused for why did he came to them.

-"Wait...What does this mean, it's nice to see you again?" Virgil asked, clearly not understanding what was going on, same goes to Ethan who grew rather more suspicious of the new kid.

-"Don't you remember me? It's ya girl Remy!" The new kid said pulling up his sunglasses revealing two bright-orangeish eyes.

the cardboard boy stared at him in disbelief.

-"W-wait...Remy?!" He asked now louder, getting excited.

-"Yup! It's really me myself and I!" He exclaimed hugging his apparently old friend.

-"Wait...what???" Ethan asked in very confused now tone.

-"Oh! Sorry there- Uh...What's your name?"

Remy asked awkwardly.

-"Ethan.." The boy replied turning his head from them.

The same look of confusion have had the popular kids.

Including Roman and Remus.

What was actually going on?

Why did this guy came to these losers?

They honestly didn't know....

And were they hugging????

Now it was confusing as fuck.

Then...One kid dared to say it out loud.

-"Yo, new kid! Why are you hanging out with the glass dealer and the freak?"

Little did he knew Remy's reaction as he came closer to the guy who yelled these words.

-"Listen up here you little bitch.

I can hang out with whoever I want and whenever I want.

You can't tell me to do shit unless you want to get punched in the face."

He simply said showing off his eyes as the kid gulped and run away.

-"Whoa....That was.... Pretty awesome." Ethan admitted as Remy proudly stepped back to the other two.

-"Thanks, Rem'. Also why are you here?" Virgil asked.

-"Uhhhh you know....I run away from these losers so called my parents."

Ethan looked rather unimpressed and Virgil just sighed.

-"Are you sure that is the reason?" The porcelain boy questioned.

-"Ummm...Anyways Virgie would you and your friend want some Starbie?" Remy changed the subject.

-"Sure, I guess." The cardboard boy agreed.

-"Fine by me." Ethan said.

After school all three of them went to the nearest Starbucks.

Remy was ready to pay them when both of them denied.

-"No, no, no Rem' I agreed yesterday when Patton, one other guy suggested to pay, so no, I can pay for myself" Virgil denied sternly.

-"Bitch, I INSIST." Remy said, clearly determined just like Patton yesterday.

-"Nope, you are not PAYING for ME." The cardboard boy talked back as there was a short moment of silence between the three, Ethan still confused af.

-"I'm going to buy you stuff anyways." Remy said.

-"REMY!" Virgil yelled, pretty angry now for loosing.

-"Welp....Guess he had won, huh?" Ethan said.

-"Not helping, Eth..." Virgil whined.

-"Oh and Vitligo gurl! What do you want?"

Remy yelled not caring that half of the Starbucks could hear him as the other two other boys signed miserably.

-"Nothing, really...I don't... Drink coffee and I'm not hungry." The porcelain boy yelled back.

-"Oh, come on! Why not?" - Remy asked.

-"It's....Just....I can't say it out loud." Ethan said in a whispering tone to Remy who walked back to them.

-"So what is it? You're allergic? ADHD? You despise coffee or?"

-"I just can't drink coffee..." Then he said why in sign language hoping that the new kid would not understand.

-"I-can't-eat-or-drink-because-I-have-no-guts..."

Then Remy whispered back.

-"Then how do you live?" which clearly meant that he indeed understood the motion sentence.

-"I....I.. It's complicated, ok?" Ethan signed in defeat.

-"Well okay then, Virgie gets the double then."

Remy simply said.

-"NO. YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! PATTON DID THAT YESTERDAY THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Virgil whined dramatically, pretty pissed off as both Remy and Ethan laughed.

-"Besides I'm going to be fat...." He mumbled the last sentence but both of them could hear it anyway.

[He thought Remy bought food as well]

-"Dude...You are literally just thin layer of skin and bones." Remy commented quietly.

-"Virgie? You okay there...?" Ethan said worriedly as the cardboard boy stayed silent before the barista yelled:

-"Remy? Your order is finished!"

Guess it's our stuff, Eighty." Remy said walking back to the counter to pick the drinks.

-"Why does he call you Eighty?" Ethan whispered as Virgil signed.

-"Probably similiar reason for why Patton calls you Dee."

-"Oh.." Ethan said.

-"Alright babes, here's your Spring Frappuchino with chocolate and coconut flakes." passing the pretty large Cup at still pissed off Virgil.

-"And here's your nonexistant coffee because I can't help." Remy said doing the motion of giving the Cup of coffee to Ethan who looked at him tiredly and said:

-"Thanks...."

After some time of talking, Virgil's and Remy's past was brought.

-"Hey Virgie, can we spill some tea of our past to your new babe?" Remy then asked as the cardboard boy slowly nodded.

-"Well then....It all started...."

Virgil changed schools yet again.

Probably the third time now.

He was met with all the new students who like always either looked fascinated or spooked out by masked appearance.

Remy was the one of the fascinated ones.

He clearly wanted to be friends with the mysterious kid.

As Virgil introduced himself to the class and took his sit, Remy already talked to him.

-"Hey there newbie! Wanna be friends?" Remy asked cheerfully, but Virgil though frowned.

-"You probably won't like me anyway...." He said, sadly, but Remy was determined enough.

-"Oh come on! I really do want to be friends with you!

I don't really care about your mask though it is pretty cool actually!" He excalaimed surprising the other kid.

-"R-really?" The cardboard boy said with the look of hope in his "eyes"

-"Yup!"

Then the bell rang as they started to hang out.

They hung out more often and soon enough became best friends.

Virgil was really happy back then as Remy was his protector from the bullies.

Unfortunetly one day it just wasn't enough....

There were five very curious kids... The two stronger ones tackled Remy who desperetly tried to free his grip from them, trying to get to his friend.

Unlucky for the two...It was too late.

They already ripped off his mask from his face revealing four pairs of violet eyes.

The kids imediatelly dropped him, very scared of his appearance as they screamed run away.

Only Remy stayed.

Looking at Virgil who was now sobbing on the ground uncontrollably.

He stood there for a few seconds, until he walked to the other boy and kneeled down, saying:

-"Hey, you okay there buddy?"

The boy with the multiple eyes looked a little up with surprise and disbelief painted on his face.

-"A-aren't you s-scared of m-me? D-don't you want to l-laugh at me o-or r-run away....?"

He asked, still very broken.

-"Nope! You look pretty awesome to me! I think spiders are very cool! Cause...you're a spider, right?"

The boy nodded.

-"Well then... As I promised before, I will protect you, Spidey-boo!" Remy said confidently as Virgil giggled at the nickname.

Remy then stood up and helped the other boy up as well, giving back his mask and holding him protectivly from the other kids just in case.

But of course...Virgil's parents found out that someone has seen his face and they moved out yet again...

He was miserable back then...

Because he thought he had lost the only person that actually cared about him...

Neither Virgil nor Remy mentioned the part when Virgil looked like a spider, because they both knew it was a sensitive topic for the cardboard boy.

Though Ethan....He looked kind of... sad and dissapointed If one could say.

At himself mostly.

Because now he finally realised...

He wasn't able to ever be there for the cardboard boy before, because he was home-schooled and now the only chance of someone liking him was gone..

Remy was apparently pretty close with Virgil anyway.

Remy had already seen his face and gained his trust, something that Ethan probably couldn't do...

Virgil deserved better than a weakling like him anyway...

He should probably just....give up on trying.

-"That's an amazing story guys! I'm not surprised why you missed each other so much!

But I got to go...Um- my moms told me I should be back at 4 PM."

-"But you said they let you-" Virgil was cut off by him again.

-"They changed their mind." he said colder than he intended to as he walked out of the building, not even turning his head back.

________________________________

I hope to see them tears...

Lmao Jk.

AND YES I KNOW, THEY WENT TO ANOTHER COFFEE SHOP, CAUSE WHY NOT I LIKE THESE KINDS OF STORIES YA'LL CAN'T STOP ME.

But seriously that's the last time.

Is this a good level of Angst for you all?

And for fucks sake it lagged.

#virgil sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #thomas sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides angst #sanders sides fanart #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #ts anxiety #ts logic #ts logan #ts remy #remy sanders #ts deceit #sanders sides au

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aster-aspera · 3 years

Text

Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds

CW's for this chapter: minor character death, semi-graphic descriptions of injuries, parental death, unsympathetic Remus

Relationship: romantic logince

This prompt was suggested to me by the lovely MizzMarvel on ao3

Chapter title is from thistle and weeds by Mumford and sons

This is Logan’s backstory in my superhero AU. You can find the whole thing on ao3 here or on the masterlist here

As Logan walked home that morning, he felt invincible, untouchable. All the grey days at school fell away, all the teasing and bullying and all the fear was suddenly gone.

He felt like he was soaring, floating somewhere high above his life. He was so much more than himself in that moment.

Maybe, he didn’t want this to end. However terrifying chasing after criminals was, that particular high almost made the danger worth it. He mourned the fact that it would be over soon. That they would put the gang away, file away the info they had collected and go back to school, alone in the knowledge of what they had done.

The ecstatic feeling faded when he entered his garden and noticed the front door was open. His blood ran cold.

Logan dropped his bag to the floor, frustration written in the lines of his posture.

“Hey sweetheart, how was your day?” His mother called from her office.

“It was uneventful as always and I am not in the mood to discuss it further.” He replied shortly.

His mother rounded the corner and took in his drawn face and the force with which he set his books down on the table.

She held out her arms invitingly and Logan let himself be wrapped up in her embrace, savouring the feeling of safety it gave him.

“Are the other kids giving you trouble again?” She asked.

The other kids were the least of his worries, currently. He could handle their childish taunting. His other problems were related to the more dangerous, night time aspect of his life. But he couldn’t exactly burden his mother with that.

She would worry too much and while he wouldn’t exactly blame her for that, he didn’t need her nagging atop all his worries about Roman and Remus.

So he just nodded and left it at that.

His mother didn’t pressure him to say more. She understood that he didn’t always feel like talking.

Once he was finished with his homework, he locked the door to his room and grabbed the locked box he kept hidden away at the back of his dresser. He opened it and carefully arranged the papers inside into orderly stacks.

The box contained a wealth of information, information that could likely get him in serious trouble if it got into the wrong hands. These files were the fruit of months of research and careful surveillance.

Supply routes, lists of buyers, lists of couriers, the entire ledger, even the names of the most elusive members.

This information could dismantle the entire gang and that was their goal. A few more weeks and they had all the evidence they needed.

Public scandals that would knock the leaders off their thrones, accounts of crimes and evidence so solid no judge would be able to refute it.

They would just have to drop it off at the police station and the gang’s fate would be sealed. It made Logan feel a little better whenever he looked at it. Despite the dangers, they were doing something good, something that would make this shithole of a city just a tiny bit more liveable. And hopefully, would help Remus.

Logan had to admit, he didn’t have that much faith in Roman’s plan. In theory, rolling up the drug rink so Remus lost his debts and could leave without fear of repercussions made sense.

But that theory was heavily relying on the fact that Remus even wanted to leave. He seemed way too comfortable in the criminal environment than Logan cared to see.

His phone started ringing and Logan picked it up without looking away from the supply route he was copying onto another paper.

“Hey erlenmeyer trash, you ready for tonight?”

Logan sighed at the nickname.

“Hello Roman, I told you at school I have everything prepared for tonight. I don’t see why you felt the need to call.”

“It’s just...something feels off. I’m scared something’s gonna go wrong.”

“Did something happen to make you feel like this?”

“No, not really. Well, I haven’t seen Remus in a while and he was acting weird the last time I called.”

“Remus dropping off the map or acting strange is not usually a cause for concern. He is prone to doing things like that.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…” Roman sounded uncharacteristically quiet. He must really be nervous.

“Is there anything else that caused this concern?”

“No…”

“Then we will be alright. We know what we do is dangerous, but there are no signs the gang is aware of what we are doing. We have gone undetected for months, it is improbable they would suddenly know now and not give us any sort of indication. But, if you really are worried, we can call tonight off.”

“No! No, the sooner we get this done, the better. And if you say we’ll be alright, I believe you.”

“So you’re listening to me for once. How novel.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, specs.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Just don’t forget the flashlights this time.”

“You’ll bring back up ones anyways. I don’t see why I bother.”

“It’s important to be prepared, definitely if you’re trying to fight crime with someone as scatterbrained as you.”

“You sound like Batman.”

“Good, that’s what I’m going for.”

“Well, caped crusader, I gotta go make dinner. See you tonight.”

“Yes. Don’t forget your scaly panties, robin.”

Roman signed off with a snort and Logan continued looking through the documents. But Roman’s words kept running through his head and his feeling of unease grew. Maybe it would be better to call it off for tonight.

No, Roman was right, they had to get this done as soon as possible. The longer they waited, the more time the gang had to discover what they were doing.

He decided to head downstairs. He had done all his prep work for tonight and sitting in his room feeling anxious wasn’t helping anyone.

Downstairs, music was playing and his mom and dad stood in the kitchen. They held each other close and were sloppily slowing along to the music, horribly off beat.

His dad noticed him standing in the door opening and beckoned him over.

They took him up in their embrace and his dad kept trying to dance, even though Logan was tripping over his own feet and his mother was laughing too much to follow along.

“Logan! Don’t tell me you don’t know how to slow.” His dad exclaimed as Logan bumped awkwardly into his mother again.

“It’s not like I’ve ever done it before. Nobody slows anymore, dad.”

“What a disgrace. My son should at least know how to slow. What if a pretty boy asks you to dance?”

Logan rolled his eyes but his dad was not to be dissuaded and grabbed him.

“Just follow along to the music.” He instructed.

They ran through the steps slowly and after a while, Logan felt himself loosen up a little. His steps became less mechanical and more like an actual dance.

He smiled as he imagined himself dancing like this with Roman, the other boy was sure to enjoy it, always one for outdated romantic gestures.

His mom laughed and then grabbed his father.

“As important as teaching our son outdated school dances is, I still need your help with dinner.”

They finished making dinner together while Logan set the table.

“ Lettuce eat.” His dad called as he set a bowl of salad down on the table and Logan groaned and hid his head in his hands.

“That pun was souper bad.” His mom groaned.

“Stop.” Logan whined.

“What, don’t you loaf my jokes?” His dad asked.

“They’re terrible.”

“I think they’re sub lime. ” His mom laughed.

Logan lay in his bed, the light from his phone lighting up his face as he waited for his parents to go to bed.

Finally Logan deemed it safe enough to leave and he slunk out of the house.

He walked through the silent neighbourhood till he reached the busier, less ideal parts of town.

There, he found Roman leaning against a wall, in a red leather jacket and heavy black boots, blending in with the crowd of people out on a friday night. Logan felt his heart stutter at the careless way Roman was slumped against the wall, his face cast in stark shadows by the neon lights from a nearby club.

He reminded Logan of the devil, of the incarnation of pride, everything about him inviting yet dangerous.

Logan stopped staring and walked over to join him, trying to lean against the wall with the same graceful abandon but only managing to look like an awkward stick.

“Hello, my dark night.” Roman said.

“You forgot the panties.”

“Oh no, what a tragedy. Guess I can’t be your Robin tonight. Maybe I can be your batwoman?”

“Batwoman’s gay, you dolt.”

“I mean, same.”

“And they’re cousins.”

“Yeah, nevermind.”

“Come on, we have a job to do.” Logan reminded him.

They stayed out all night. Skulking in the shadows and trailing couriers all over the city. Logan felt a strange thrill every time he looked over at Roman. His eyes glinted with excitement and adrenaline.

During the day, they were just teenagers, being pushed and shoved and keeping their heads down as they walked to class.

But now, they were so much more. They became a part of the city, let her bustling energy envelop them. They slipped out of their skin under the streetlights and let themselves disappear into the hubbub and danger that prowled the city streets.

They were angels bringing her justice, they were devils tearing her apart.

They hid behind dumpsters in cold alleyways and walked along the busy promenades, holding each other and pretending to get lost in the others touch, all the while keeping their eyes trained on their mission.

Finally, when the sky was turning a murky gray and Logan’s eyes felt gritty with sleep, they ended up on a bench two streets from Logan’s home. In the suburban neighbourhood, nothing was stirring and, even in the city, it was too early for even the earliest risers.

Roman curled up on the bench and stared at him. Logan stared right back, too tired to care about being seen as weird.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Roman asked, his voice breaking the quiet of the park.

“The evidence we have collected is irrefutable, as long as we take care to deliver it to the right people, there is no reason it shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I know that. I meant Remus. You said he might not come back, even if he is relieved of his debts. What if he’s really just in it because, I don't know, he likes it? Or he just feels like he fits in there?”

“I don’t know your brother as well as you do. If you have faith in him, then I believe it will work.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know if I have faith in him. He’s just… So different nowadays. It’s like I don’t even know him anymore.”

“Roman, it will be alright. Your brother may have made some mistakes, but it doesn’t mean he is changed forever. Sometimes people just have trouble figuring themselves out. And either way, whether he makes the right choice or not, at least we did our best.”

Roman smiled at him, his mascara smudged and the glow of the street light lighting up his frizzy hair in a halo of golden light.

“You’re a great friend, you know that right?”

“I try my best.” Logan said with a soft smile.

Roman sat up and leant forward. He reached out and gently traced his thumb over Logan’s jaw. Logan looked up into his eyes, his breath stopping somewhere along the path from his lungs to his mouth. Roman’s thumb came to a stop on his lips.

“Is this alright?” He whispered.

Logan just nodded, his usual eloquence rendered mute.

Roman moved in closer and gently, ever so gently, slotted his lips onto Logan’s.

It was soft, and sweet and when he drew back, he pressed his forehead to Logan’s with a bubbly laugh. He threaded his fingers through Logan’s hair.

Finally, after a long moment of his brain incoherently looping the last moment over and over again, he managed to regain some mobility and placed his hand over the one Roman had cupped around his cheek. He turned his head and placed a kiss on Roman’s palm.

“We’re going to change the world.” Roman breathed, ecstatic with sleep deprivation and adrenaline.

“Together.” Logan whispered back.

As Logan walked home that morning, he felt invincible, untouchable. All the grey days at school fell away, all the teasing and bullying and all the fear was suddenly gone.

He felt like he was soaring, floating somewhere high above his life. He was so much more than himself in that moment.

The ecstatic feeling faded when he entered his garden and noticed the front door was open. His blood ran cold.

Had his parents noticed his absence? He had no idea how he would explain this to them.

He entered the house quietly, trepidation burning in his stomach. Should he call out? Maybe he had just left the door open?

But Logan distinctly remembered checking it was locked before leaving.

Downstairs, all was quiet. Everything looked as it should have been except that muddy footprints tracked in from the door to the stairs.

That was disconcerting, there was a very strict ‘no shoes upstairs’ policy in the house.

Logan’s unease grew. He crept upstairs.

“Mom? Dad?” He called out hesitantly.

The house stayed dead quiet.

With a deep breath, he kept moving. He looked in his room first, as it was right next to the stairs.

The door was pulled open. Strange, Logan could swear he had closed it.

His breath hitched when he saw his room. All his drawers were pulled open. His papers were strewn out over the floor.

The box!

Logan found it upturned and shoved in a corner of the room. All the papers were gone. All the evidence they had collected missing.

Ice cold terror clenched around his heart.

They knew.

Without a second thought, he tore out of his room and ran to his parent’s room.

“Mom! Dad!” He choked off when he entered the room.

No! No, no, no, no!

This wasn't real. This was just a nightmare. He would wake up any second. This just couldn't be real.

Blood painted the walls and bedsheets. It looked like a scene from a horror movie, almost comical in its goriness. If he had seen this in a movie he would have scoffed at the overuse of fake blood.

He hesitantly stepped closer and kneeled next to his mother, who was sprawled out on the floor, her entire back a mess of torn flesh and blood and glistening things Logan didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Mom?” His voice came out waveringly.

He reached out. A pulse, he should look for a pulse. He tried to take her arm but recoiled from the blood that covered it.

It was warm and sticky and already seeping through his pants.

“Mom, wake up.” He whispered.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, I’m sorry I stayed out all night, just please, wake up.” He begged, like apologizing would fix anything.

She still wasn't moving and neither was his dad. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Logan was aware that begging wasn’t doing him any good. He needed to call for help.

But all that came out of his mouth were more pleas.

“Mom! Stop ignoring me! Just wake up!” He yelled and then he started crying, great gasping sobs that tore all the air from his lungs.

He needed them to wake up, he needed to feel their arms around him, needed their comfort. They couldn’t be gone. Not like this, not now, not when just an hour ago, Roman had kissed him, not when outside he could hear the trucks thundering by. This wasn’t real. It just couldn’t be.

He screamed, desperate and heartbroken.

Wake up .

His eyes got caught on a flash of green on the walls and he looked up.

On the wall, painted in a bright neon green, was the symbol he had been studying for months, the gang's symbol, a sword pointed downwards, and underneath it, like an artist’s tag, a sloppy R.

Remus.

Logan felt anger curl in his gut. After everything they had done to help him, this was his answer.

He would pay.

This wasn’t the end. If they thought they could stop him with this, they were wrong. He would get his revenge, he would burn that gang to the ground and he would destroy Remus.

This was personal now.

#sander sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #ts logan #roman sanders #ts roman #u!remus #unsympathetic remus #logince #romantic logince #superhero au #ts superhero au #my writing #tell me if i forgot to tag something

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intruality-overlord · 4 years

Text

Why Are We (Best) Friends?

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

Taglist: @blogging-time @veraisnotfine @littlestr @jessibbb @ibroken-butterflyi @hi-its-tutty @idkanameatall

(For these first couple chapters I have tagged people I thought might be interested in reading this. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

Chapter One: Cookie Mix

May 2nd, 2017.

To say Patton was hammered, would be the biggest understatement ever conceived. Twelve bottles of cider had him misplace his share of the brain cell. He didn't have the cognitive ability to think the others seeing him like this would not be ideal, or any residual, instinctual fear in his bloodstream. Did he even have any blood at this point? His veins burned just like his throat while guzzling that bitter, bittersweet liquid conscience tranquilizer.

(Patton's liver fucking hates him.)

Welp, you can blame Patton's legs for listening to Patton. They shouldn't have enabled his poorly timed cookie cravings. And you can also blame the wall that foolishly did the job of keeping him upright, which Patton's spine had boycotted knowing the consequences of their actions.

And at least it was... somewhere around ten at night, Patton thought, so most had gone to bed by now. That was what the clock said last time he checked it, anyway... which was yesterday, by now.

He wandered into the kitchen and made a beeline for the cookie jar. (Beeline in the more accurate, literal sense that you couldn't tell where he was going until he got there—basically, not a straight line. How dare assume Patton could ever do anything straight). It was empty.

Patton would be damned if he didn't get his fucking cookies.

So what was the next best thing? He'd bake himself his own goddamn cookies.

Riffling through the kitchen cabinets, Patton came across a paper bag totally-not-suspiciously labeled "Cookie Mix.tm" and he grabbed it. Pft, duh, what else do you make cookies out of? The bag contained a white powder reminiscent of flour, and in Patton's mind, exactly what he suspected cookie mix looked like. Hmm... some milk and an egg would probably also help. Also, a bowl would be helpful.

Actually, nah, fuck bowls.

Just as Patton was about to put his... globulous creation the relative consistency of wet sand into the oven (or what his drunken mind referred to as "the hot box"), eggshell garnish and all, Remus just so happened to strut into the kitchen. He had been coincidentally drawn to the kitchen by his own cravings in search of his secret stash. Remus believed that the best place to hide your loot is in plain sight where people don't think to question it. Hidden things are only suspicious because of the fact they are hidden, so if they weren't hidden... To his credit, it had worked so far.

Until today.

"Oh, fuck."

Patton spun around at the sound of Remus's voice, losing his balance in the process. Not to worry, he slipped and thudded against Remus's chest, clinging to his sash and smearing white powder all over him. "Reeemuuss!" Patton greeted weirdly excitedly. Patton immediately forgot about the cookies. Out of sight, out of mind. Instead he just stared at Remus for a moment. "You... you rat, ratty Luigi man," he slurred, "nah, ra' sound mean. You more li'e... li'e a mouse. Mousey mouse knock off plumber mouse man."

"Are you okay?" Remus asked, his words coloured by disbelief and it's little brother who's unfortunately going through a midlife crisis, gleeful shock. One does not always come across the beacon of goodness with a higher concentration of alcohol than water making up their body. It was like waking up to a human sized salmon next to you, apparently named Malinda. Which then proceeds to slap you across the face with a slippery fin before splashing away screaming, "We're getting a divorce! You always eat all my spaghetti!" and when you wake for real, you don't even know how to begin phrasing that into a question google would understand. (Remus would know.) This was quality blackmail. Good thing Remus stumbled across Patton and not Deceit.

"Hehe... I've no idea wha' words are righ' now," was all Patton said as he giggled. Green sash clutched tightly, Patton was still staring at him. His weight leaned more and more into Remus. Remus thought it was like staring into the button eyes of a doll behind a thin pane of glass: Innocent until you remember it's Annabelle that you're staring at. He just kept staring, and staring. Remus might've thought Patton was trying to mind read. Maybe he was.

As the heart, Patton encompasses all of Thomas's feelings, including curiosity. Logan also played a big part in Thomas's curiosity, but he didn't have both kinds of curiosity, only the standard. Patton on the other hand, also experienced all of Thomas's morbid curiosity. Morbid curiosity, that feeling that stops you from looking away from a decaying carcass even though you really want to. That urge that keeps your eyes locked on that video of a parasite pulsating in that poor snail's eyestalks, or a zombie ant. (A feeling that the others severely discouraged Patton to entertain— not that he blamed them.)

(Many like to believe they'd never dare be so fascinated by the macabre and the gruesome. This is called denial.)

This always made it very hard for Patton to look away from Remus. It made him cling to every word Remus stringed into a sentence, no matter how obscene— especially actually. His morbid curiosity enticed him to Remus like a lamp to a moth— Wait— water to a duck's back— No—... Patton was very drunk. Don't expect him to be able to come up with similes and sayings.

A loopy, arguably deranged smile smiled stretched Patton's cheeks. "Your sash matches your eyes," he gasped deliriously. Patton booped him on the nose, then mindlessly twirled the curled ends of Remus's mustache (and it was nice in a queer way, as Remus was very willing to admit since his brother took every drop of dignity they had with him when they split). "An' your mustache loo' li'e mouse whis'ers— no! A lil' ca'erpilla'," he giggled. Then promptly passed out.

(Remus sighed, knowing he'd have to clean up Patton's mess for both their sakes. He hoped to whatever entity or entities held power over the universe that Patton hadn't eaten the... "dough" like he normally would have. By the looks of it, Patton could hardly handle one addiction as it was.)

(}ï{)

Patton regretted nothing. Mostly because he didn't remember anything to regret.

Until a few days later when Remus realised he couldn't take the pressing guilt of knowing his secret and told Patton what happened. They became fast friends from then on. Don't ask them exactly how they don't fucking know. This story is as much of an explanation you'll get.

Next Chapter:

#WAW(B)F?#sander sides #thomas sanders #ts sander sides #patton sanders #ts patton #remus sanders #ts remus #intruality #moduke #remus x patton #patton x remus #logan sanders #ts logan

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Abductions, Past and Present

AO3

Bit of a lighter chapter, this time, but the next one is gonna be a bit rough. I’m real low on motivation right now, so long term projects like this one are just hard to write at the moment. It’s gonna be slow, folks! One shots are easier for my brain, so expect those while I procrastinate.

...

He jolts awake, shaking off the tail end of a nightmare, heart racing as he tries to place where he is, eyes locking on the bed, on the form of Roman sleeping peacefully, and his chest knots tighter.

“hey kiddo.” He tenses a bit at the voice, eyes shooting up to Feathers', flinching back a bit. “it's ok, bud. Can you drink something for me?” his throat feels like it’s closing up, but he nods, letting Feathers hand him a cup. He doesn’t know what's in it, why he's still here, but he's not going back on his deal. So he steels himself and takes a swig of the liquid.

His eyes widen. It's… water. Cool, fresh, sweet, water. He closes his eyes, taking another, slower drink. God, it’s amazing, he hadn't realized he'd forgotten what actual water tastes like, but it's somehow the most beautiful thing in the world.

“easy, buddy. Too fast and you'll get sick.” He opens his eyes at hands gently taking back the mostly empty cup. He keeps his eyes down, hands in his lap.

“Can we get some food in you, kiddo?” He nods again, letting Feathers guide him off the cot he'd been asleep on, barely wincing at the touch, biting back a hiss. The whole time his eyes never leave Roman.

They settle on the other side of the room, a small table and three chairs around it, which makes him stiffen even as he slides into the seat.

“I brought breakfast. Is he awake?” His eyes fly to the door. It's Naga. “ah, he is.” Naga answers himself, a small smile flitting across his face, coming to sit at the table, sliding a bowl in front of him and Feathers, before he sits down with his own bowl.

It smells like oatmeal of some kind, slightly cinnamon and sugary, and he can see fruit mixed in. Fruit. Just the thought nearly makes his mouth water, but he holds back, waiting for permission as the others begin to eat. He doesn’t know if this is another test, he won’t fail so easily if it is.

“Go on, kiddo. Eat up!” Feathers voice is light and cheery, and that's all the invitation he needs. He doesn’t care if it's poisoned, he decides with the first mouthful, nearly crying at the taste of sweet, warm, actual food. The next bite has a pop of sweet citrus and he can’t help letting out a small sound as he savors the flavor. It seems all too soon the bowl is empty, and despite being full he wishes for more.

Full. The ever present gnawing of hunger that he had nearly gotten used to is absent, he feels almost strange, without the ever present pangs of emptiness.

“Feeling better?” he nods again, eyes locked on Roman, missing the small frown exchanged between the two beings.

“kiddo… you can go see him.” Before the words are fully out of Patton's mouth, the human has vaulted out of his chair and is perched on the edge of the bed, hand entwined with Roman's, the other stroking his hair, murmuring softly.

Janus clears his throat, and instantly, the human freezes, an expression of pure fear on his face as he pulls away from his brother, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, eyes downcast. Patton lets out a soft breath, looking to Janus for guidance.

He doesn’t look up at the sound of wood being pulled across the floor, seeing Naga out of the corner of his eyes, settling in the chair from the table, about a foot away from him.

“My name is Janus. I’m a Naga. My home planet is Chaemera. I was taken when I was six. My venom is very potent, you see, and gold scales very rare. Individually, they’re not all that strong. But when crafted together on fabric, mimicking their natural placement on my skin they are nearly impenetrable. I’m told they also make fine jewelry. They’d pluck them. Then wait for them to grow back in, and do it again. It hurt, obviously, but I thought this was normal. Just how things go. Until the ship was boarded. And I was freed, taken in and helped to heal in all manners of the word, by Logan. He made a mistake, keeping you two apart, not telling you what was happening, but he means well. He isn’t the most socially adept. He never meant to cause you the fear and pain and stress you underwent at being kept apart. And I am swearing to you now on every scar on my body and soul, that you are safe and I will fight to the death anyone who tries to put you back into that fucking cell.”

Remus stares at Naga, Janus, with suspicion and hesitancy, searching his face for any sign of a lie, for any sign of cold cunning or icy curiosity, finding none. He can’t decide if that puts him more or less at ease. He wants so badly to believe him, but he can't. He can’t because if he believes it and he’s wrong he will do something he'll regret, something that leaves Roman all alone.

“you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to. You’ve been hurt really bad. We want to give you whatever it is you need to help start healing. It doesn’t matter if that means you ask us to leave right now and not come back, or if you want to talk. We won’t be angry, we won’t push you for anything, this is all at your pace. You control this. You can come and go as you please, we can drop you off somewhere, if that's what you want, you are free to wander the ship. Nothing here, none of us here, will hurt you.” He looks at Feathers, whose blue eyes are wide and filled with warmth and sadness and kindness, and he lets himself let out a ragged breath, pulling his knees to his chest and shaking, rocking back and forth, relieved, breathy sobs escaping his lips.

“oh, kiddo. Can… can I hug you?” Feathers asks hesitantly, and before he can second guess himself he nods. He barely flinches, his innate response to touch, but Feathers immediately pulls back at the small sign of discomfort. Which, really, convinces him more than anything else has, because none of his captors would ever have the empathy to playact a motion so innately kind.

“no… don't… please…” he heaves out, and instantly, those arms are back around him, wings wrapping him in warmth and sky blue softness, and he folds into the embrace.

“There we go, buddy. It's ok, let it all out, it's ok.” The touch burns at his skin, it feels too hot and too much and too close, the pressure around his back, where the palms rub circles feel aflame and his brain can't process this because touch equals pain, but this is so gentle it's agonizing in an entirely new way that he never wants to end.

“M-my name is Remus. His is R-Roman. I tr-tried to k-keep him safe, it w-w-was never en-ough I was n-ever enough…”

“Shh, baby no, you did so good. You did. You kept him safe. You kept him alive, you did it, you did it, baby. You’re out, you got him out. You’re so brave.” Feathers lets go as he shifts away after several long minutes, tear streaked, but lighter, so much lighter, than he can ever remember being.

“I can… I can stay, with him?”

“Yes. Of course, yes.” Janus answers, the thought of separating them again causing a flash of pain across his face.

“ok.” He whispers, voice hoarse, careful as he slips under the covers, curling tight around Roman, so he can feel every inhale and exhale, can feel the steady beat of Roman's heart. He smiles as he feels Roman let out a soft sound, melting into him.

He's exhausted. He hasn’t slept, really slept, in days. He feels the covers being gently tucked tighter around him, the warmth and heady sense of safety impossible to resist as his eyes slip shut.

“sleep well, Remus. We'll be in and out to check on you two, ok? If you need anything, just call. If you’re up for it, I'll give you a tour of the ship later, so you know your way around.” He nods, mumbles something affirmative.

“thanks, Feathers.” He mumbles, slipping into a restful, soothing sleep.

Patton turns to Janus, eyes aglow, a bursting smile on his face.

“He called me feathers! That's adorable!” Janus sighs good naturedly, steering Patton out the door.

“I heard… Feathers." He laughs at Patton's squeal, rolling his eyes but letting himself be drawn into a hug.

“Are you okay?” Patton asks, pulling away, not missing the flash of something across Janus's face before his mask of smooth confidence slips back on.

“Of course, darling. I’ve had years to move on, it’s certainly fine.” He dismisses, walking away down the corridor.

“Jan. I know it must bring back unpleasant memories-"

“It's fine, Patton. I’m certainly not reminded of my own fragile state when looking at them, I definitely don’t hate playing the spy to get on board those ships, and I’m certainly looking forwards to doing it again!” He shouts, regretting it instantly as he slaps a hand over his mouth, stumbling back against the wall.

“Janus-" Patton hates the cool mask of calm that slips back on, eyes going dim and distant, looking past him as he straightens.

“As I said. Everything is just fine.” Then Janus has slipped inside his room and locks it tight, something he only does when he's getting stressed, usually after night terrors or a triggering encounter.

“Jan? It’s alright to be not alright. I’m leaving you alone now, since you want space, but if you wanna talk ever, my door'll be open.” He hesitates a moment, as he hears a slide and thump, no doubt Janus sliding down the wall, sitting on the floor. “and I know you'll over think it, so I'll say it now, I’m not mad, or hurt, that you yelled. I love you.” He pulls away from the door, slowly, staring at it a moment longer before shaking his head, heading to the common area. Maybe Virgil would be there. He was likely wound up, too, and they could both use some company.

He didn’t hear the very faint, very whispered “I love you too" that escaped Janus's lips at the sound of his retreating footsteps.

…

He's surprised to find Logan in the common room instead, the distant look in his eyes telling Patton that he was deep in his mind, a form of meditation, almost, that helps the Straevion organize his thoughts and information. But Logan should have been sleeping, not delving through his memory.

Well, there was nothing to do but wait. Startling him out of it was more damaging and disorienting than nearly anything else, and it was a sign of great trust in his companions that Logan felt safe enough to do this in the living space, where anyone could stumble upon him, completely defenseless and vulnerable. It warmed his heart, how much faith Logan had in them all, and his feathers fluffed up before resettling. A small shuffling from the couch alerts him to Logan ‘waking’, and he smiles softly as Logan lets out a soft breath of air, silver eyes dilating and meeting his.

“hey.” He says softly, noting Logan’s ramrod straight posture, his hands steepled in his lap.

“Greetings, Patton. How may I be of assistance?” Whew, if Logan was falling back into his purely formal mode, he must really be upset. His race were generally stoic and formal, showing emotion a sign of weakness, but Logan had long since opened up, though it was still difficult sometimes for him to find the words to express what, exactly, he was feeling. But Patton is more than patient, and more than willing to help Logan express himself, lighting up at any small shred of emotion Logan shows, knowing how much trust it takes for him to share any sign of feeling, every twitch of the lips, any small snort of laughter, any tears or twinge of pain, each one was a tiny gift.

“Preen me?” He asks, instead of any of the other questions he wants to pepper Logan with, knowing he won’t answer any of them honestly if he’s this wound up. Logan hesitates, but nods minutely after a moment. Patton smiles, settling on the floor, wings stretched out behind him. After a moment, he hears Logan follow suit, and he shivers at the gentle touch on his feathers, closing his eyes and letting out a happy hum at the ever gentle, careful contact.

“If you’re out here, I’m assuming everything went adequately when he awoke?” Logan asks, voice still even, hands not hesitating in their careful straightening of his feathers, but Patton can sense the tension underneath.

“They did. He’s sleeping now, real sleep, poor thing. He trusts that he’s free, too, though that may come and go. His name is Remus. The other is Roman.” He feels Logan nod, absorbing the information. He let the silence linger, letting Logan organize his thoughts.

“I hurt them.” He says finally, his hands never stopping their steady motion, voice still dangerously flat. “I made a grave miscalculation in my ministration of care and failed to recognize the obvious signs of stress and grief acting upon Remus. I failed to see his signs of aggression as anything other than just that, when it is quite obvious that he was, in fact, in pain. At the very least I should have updated him on Roman’s condition and seen how he reacted.”

“You could have. But we both know that being kept like that for as long as he was can easily lead to madness. It was perfectly reasonable to be warry, given his behavior. He hadn’t even spoken, we didn’t even know if he was cognizant. I wouldn’t have thought he was, until his outburst at me.”

“Do you know what it was he said, before Virgil burst in?” His voice is strained now, on the edge of cracking, and Patton softens, tilting his head back to look at Logan’s face.

“I don’t, Lo. I’d hoped you’d tell me, once you were ready.” He sees that small twitch of Logan’s lips, and he smiles, drawing his wings in and turning so he’s kneeling face to face with Logan.

“he said that keeping them apart, letting him think that roman was dead, was the cruelest thing that’s ever been done to him. and the worst part is… I think he’s right.” Instantly, he’s wrapping his arms around Logan, pulling him closer with his wings, as he feels his stoic friend shaking.

“you can cry, Lo. You know I won’t tell anyone, if you do. You know it’s ok.” He murmurs.

“I don’t deserve to let myself feel, after what I did.”

“No, Logan, no. That’s not how this works. You are entitled to your feelings. The fact that you feel guilty and miserable now proves that you understand you did wrong, that you didn’t mean to hurt anyone, and I know you will do everything you can to earn their trust. To prove to Remus you deserve his. I know you have mine, Logan. Always, always, you have mine, plumana.” He replies, using a term of endearment native to his people. Logan relaxes against him, finally, his tears quiet and slow against Patton’s chest.

“Have you been up, this whole time? It’s been nearly two days since Remus passed out.”

“Couldn’t sleep. I… tried but without physical touch I found myself unable to relax enough for my mind to settle.”

“Awww, Lo, that’s so sweet!” He can feel Logan blushing, his entire skin faintly glowing with it. “now, let’s get you to bed, Plumana mine.” He whispers, brushing back Logan’s dark hair, softly kissing his forehead.

“You don’t mind staying? Just until I fall asleep.” Logan asks as Patton gets to his feet, helping pull Logan to his.

“I’ll stay as long as you want, Lo.”

#remus sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #space au #alien sides #older brother remus #protective remus #past torture #past abuse #trauma #ptsd #light angst

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bleepblopbloop56 · 5 years

Text

The Murder in the Dressing Room

Chapter 8: Because I Love You

Just a small note: im so excited for you guys to read this one you have no idea. going through the editing process this week has somehow made it my favorite chapter in the whole story i swear. Alright also need the routine stamp of Edited By @pathos-logical who made this what it is today i swear

Warnings: unsympathetic deceit, abusive deceit, manipulative deceit, toxic relationships,slight blood mention, slight medication mention, unwanted kissing, a litttlleee bit of unwanted touching.

---

"Hey there, beautiful~" A handsome stranger in a yellow button up smiled down at him, sliding into the stool at his right. "Can I buy you a drink?" Normally Roman wouldn’t have thought twice about refusing the offer, but the irritation lingering in his chest made him reckless. He traced his eyes over the man’s face, gaze catching on his green eyes. He couldn't tell what it was, but something in them made Roman want to say yes, want to listen to every word he said.

… Just one drink can’t hurt, he decided, requesting just a diet coke while raising his eyebrows at the man. He didn't complain, which Roman took as a good sign.

"I'm Ethan, but you can call me Dee," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

"Roman," he said, taking the hand and holding it for a moment longer than necessary. He couldn't help it- those eyes were sucking him in and putting him in a daze.

"So what are you doing here, Roman?" The way the man- Ethan- said his name made his heart skip a beat. "Looking for anything from tonight?" The way he smirked made it clear he didn't mean anything so much as anyone, and he was looking at Roman like he was the most beautiful man in the world. It felt good to be flirted with. Logan sure as hell didn't do that too often.

Logan…

"Me and my boyfriend are fighting," Roman chuckled nervously. “I just wanted to have fun for a bit and forget about him." Roman scooted away, suddenly rethinking coming here. He loved Logan, he just… got so frustrated with him sometimes. He'd spent nearly every day at work for the past few months, even his days off. He worked and worked and left no time for Roman. All he wanted was some attention. That wasn't too much to ask, right?

Ethan frowned like Roman had just told him Logan had locked him up in a tower. He leaned forward a little, seemingly unconsciously bridging the space Roman had put between them. The shifting lights of the club shadowed his eyes and threw the scar on his face into sharp relief for a second, making him look… dangerous. "You deserve better."

Roman laughed purely out of shock, a little taken aback by how serious he sounded. He tried to deflect, to take some of the blame off Logan, but Ethan steamrollered right over him. "You look lonely. Don't you want to forget yourself and be someone else for a night? Don't you want to the star of the show for a change?"

Ethan had seen right through Roman- hell, he'd practically read his mind, reaching down into his soul and pulling up wants he couldn't even admit to himself. Roman wanted to move back and put some distance between himself and Ethan- or maybe just the uncomfortable truth- but then Ethan smiled, slow and deadly as any poison. "A guy like you shouldn't be lonely tonight."

Roman’s breath sped up against his will. A hopeful grin crept across his face in a way he hoped didn't look too eager. "Maybe…" He leaned in, maybe a little more than he should. "Could you… could you make that happen?"

Ethan… no, Dee, quirked an eyebrow at him, his smirk deepening to something lethal, and struck the killing blow.

"Anything you want…"

And god, Roman wished he could have the excuse that he was drunk that night, to say he wasn't thinking clearly when this man pulled him away into his huge house and made him feel like he was the most precious treasure in his collection. To say he was high or drunk or drugged when he woke up in another man's arms wishing this movie star life could always be his. He wanted to say that he didn't enjoy that night, that he thought of Logan the whole time, that he didn't mean any of it. But he couldn't lie to Logan… Not like that.

Street lights lit up Dee's face as he drove down the winding streets. He'd been quiet since they'd left the hotel; whether that was good or bad was anyone's guess. Roman sat beside him just as silently, lost in thoughts of the night everything went wrong. The first of many "worst mistakes of his life". Without even realizing it, tears began to slip down his face.

Dee's hand rested on Roman's knee, thumb rubbing in small circles but not moving any farther up his leg like they usually did. He glanced over and put a fake pout on his face, the kind he was so good at. It made Roman sick.

"Why are you crying, baby?" Roman stayed silent. "We're going home! Don't you wanna go back home with me?" Dee took his eyes off the road to wipe off the tears, and despite being a sweet gesture, Roman could only read it as a threat. Everything Dee did now felt like one- he'd never be safe around him again, not after this.

He forced himself to nod his head slightly, sniffing and wiping at his own eyes. He was lying, but he had a feeling saying "no, I want to go back to Logan and I want you to leave me alone forever" would make Dee slam the car into a tree. Dee smiled at him, turning back to the road.

“Why are you doing this, Dee?” Roman asked quietly. He didn't know what he was expecting to hear. Maybe “because I'm evil’ or ”because you’re mine”- something he could understand, something that would make sense, at least with Dee’s twisted worldview in mind. What he did not expect was the soft “because I love you” that came from the man, sounding as genuine as it had all those months ago.

“Because I love you, Roman,” Dee smiled, cupping his cheeks in his hands, "and I want to marry you." Dee hadn't waited for an answer after proposing- he’d immediately slipped the ring onto Roman’s finger, pulling Roman back in when he stumbled back in surprise. He leaned down and kissed Roman, not caring that he didn't reciprocate, ignoring how Roman tried to squirm out of his grip.

Roman's mind was racing a million miles an hour. Marriage? He had been trying to work up the courage to break up with Dee for weeks, and now he thought it was the time for marriage?

"Don't you think that's a little fast?" Roman tried nervously, putting his hands on Dee's chest in an effort to keep him away without showing it. "I mean- Dee, baby, we've only been dating for a year," he chuckled, trying desperately to keep his voice light. He looked down at the ring. The bright diamond caught the light, a promise of more of this picture-perfect life to come… The sex, money, clothes, attention- all of it was right in front of him. Everything Roman had ever dreamed of, and all he had to do to get it was say yes.

"Do you not want to marry me?" Dee's eyes held something dangerous in them, and Roman read the question for what it was- not a question at all, but a threat.

Roman stared back at him, trying to make his mouth form any words that weren't "of course I do" trying to say that this had gone too far, that he wanted to go home, to see his friends, family, Logan, all the people Dee had made him cut ties with.

"I'd love to, Ethan," he smiled wearily, standing on his tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Even at that moment, he’d felt like he’d made a deal with the devil, and every time he looked at that ring he was reminded of the price he paid.

"How's your head, baby?" Dee asked. "I have some ibuprofen in the glove box if you need it." Roman wasn't all that willing to take anything Dee offered, but he was reluctantly grateful to hear it- getting slammed into a wall hadn't exactly left him feeling peachy. It could've been worse, I suppose, he thought. At least he didn't hit hard enough to dent the wall… or my skull.

He reached in the glove box, muttering a meek thank-you as he did. His hand hit against something long and thin wrapped in cloth, and when he peered in to get a better look, he was met with the sight of spots of dark red covering the fabric. He almost jerked his hand out and slammed the glove box shut, and only the knowledge that Dee was watching kept him from doing it. He slowly pulled out the bottle of pills, shaking so badly that he almost couldn’t unscrew the cap.

When his hands finally steadied, Roman took three and popped them into his mouth, wincing as he swallowed. While mumbling out another thanks to be safe, he vaguely made the connection that when Dee had apologised, it was specifically asking for forgiveness, not to make Roman feel better. Had it always been like that? No… He had to have been earnest in the beginning. Roman wouldn't have gone with him if he wasn't. Right?

"Why are you so quiet, my prince?" Dee cooed, glancing over every few seconds to look at his love. His Prince Charming…

"Hey, Prince Charming!" Virgil called, throwing a pillow across the room at the pair. "Back off on the PDA, I have virgin eyes." He dodged the pillow when Logan threw it back at him, laughing. He had started calling Roman that after he’d walked in on Roman serenading Logan with Disney songs in the kitchen, and Roman would be lying if he said he didn't like it.

Roman dropped to a knee, bowing to Virgil with a look of mock regret on his face "Oh King Virgil the Virgin, how will you ever forgive my misdeeds?!" He threw a hand on his forehead, flopping onto his back like a Victorian mistress who’d just gotten a whiff of her vivid green wallpaper. "My only hope is that you continue to let me rule over this humble kingdom under you!" Roman kept his eyes shut tight, trying not to break, but when Logan of all people started snickering, he burst out laughing and let the act drop. Virgil was laughing too, they all were, and that was the best thing about them. They were always laughing, everything was fun with them.

And now Virgil was gone…

And now he was back with Ethan…

Now he'd ruined it all.

Roman let his tears fall freely. Sitting beside the murderer of his best friends and his brother, it occurred to him- not for the first time in the relationship- how completely and utterly trapped he was.

"I'm just… thinking about Remus," he whispered, wiping his tears with the top of his shirt. It was only partly a lie; he wasn't just thinking of Remus, he was thinking of everyone. Remus, Virgil, Thomas, Logan- all of them were clawing out of his brain and finding their way down his face. But Remus was family, and hopefully that was someone Dee would allow him to grieve for…

But Dee didn't look sympathetic. "You didn't need him," he said coldly, pulling into their house- no, his house. Roman didn't belong there anymore. "I did you a favor, Roman. Now you can focus on me." Roman must've done something with his face, because Dee's coldness turned right back to sweetness. "Now we can focus on us."

Roman nodded even though he knew that wasn't right, stomach twisting in knots at the reminder that he was the reason people died- that no matter how indirectly, it might as well have been him who’d killed them. That he was only here so Dee wouldn't hurt anyone else

"Remember the rules?" Dee asked, staring down at his passenger before unlocking the doors. The light, casual malice in his voice made Roman think of the knife in the glove box, and he nodded jerkily, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. They'd gone over them three times in the car; they’d been drilled into his brain by now. He thought he’d break down if he had to hear them out loud one more time, but- "Say them," Dee demanded, and Roman obliged.

"One hand on you at all times." He started with the easy one, voice strained to the point of breaking to keep from bursting into tears. "If I run, you'll kill Logan. If I scream, you'll kill Logan." His voice was cracking. "If I call for help, you'll kill Logan…" Dee smiled at him, leaning in and kissing Roman sweetly as he unlocked the doors to the place Roman had once called home. Hand on Roman's back, Dee pushed him gently through the house. They walked through the living room, spare bedrooms, the small library, passing everything until they were in the very back. Roman almost lost himself in the haze of familiar scenery for a few minutes, but then-

"Dee? Dee, our room is back there, Dee where are we going?" Roman couldn’t help how his voice pitched up in terror, and his attempts to dig his heels in were to no avail; Dee just shoved him forward more forcefully. He threw open the door to the basement- the one room in this huge house Roman had always been too afraid to go into, the one that locked from the outside.

"I have some business to do, my prince, I'm going to have to leave you here for a bit," Dee said with a fake pout. Nonsensically, almost hysterically, Roman thought that all his expressions were fake- nothing about him was real. Not anymore.

"Please don't leave me here, Dee," Roman cried, trying to follow him up the stairs. "Please, I promise I won't leave, Ethan-" but the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked behind him.

---

One thing that Ethan didn't mention was that no matter how closely Roman followed the rules, no matter how good and obedient he was, Ethan had always planned on killing Logan. Nothing Roman could do or say would've convinced him otherwise.

Ethan was in love with the idea of Roman, in love with having someone beautiful to wake up beside and do everything he said. He loved having his little plaything, and one person was trying to keep that from him. And that just wouldn't do…

The murder in the dressing room taglist:

@cataclysm-al @knightinsoftpastels @intrurality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality @nonbeenary-enbee @imbasicallyshakespear @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @incoherentfangirl @oofmood @nonbianary-pineapple @royalnerd829 @unicornlogansanders @magma-llama @chumo-cookie

#deceit sanders #past roceit #unsympathetic deceit #abusive deceit #emotional abuse #blood tw #manipulative deceit

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lovelylogans · 4 years

Text

love light gleams

previous chapter | chapter four | next chapter

part of the wyliwf verse.

the sideshire files | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: food mentions, complicated parental relationships, teenage emancipation, emotional abuse, mentions of being disowned, mentions of transphobia and homophobia, classism, mentions of past underage drinking, crying, religious content (church, going to confession), remus cameo, mentions of choking/killing someone, something similar to the canon “have you thought about killing your brother?” monologue, please let me know if i’ve missed anything!

pairings: gen

words: 57,686

notes: uh, this one’s heavy on the crying/angst/hurt comfort, folks, so tread carefully! take care of yourself!!

"you can just point," virgil says to logan, for the fifth time. "it's okay if you just... make any gesture ."

"um," patton says.

"he's going to pick which one it is," virgil says steadily, ignoring the fact that he's the last of the family who are picking a box from their pile. "i'm always last to pick anyway."

"it's true," says silas, "and why didn't i get to pick this year, again?"

"you'll like it, trust us," meredith says.

"yeah, but—"

"si," essie says, and she's the only one that patton's seen so far that gets no rebuttal for shortening his name, " trust us."

silas sighs, grumpy, and slouches over his (pretty sizeable) box.

"just one gesture," virgil wheedles to logan, adjusting him, and logan squalls in protest, throwing his pacifier. which happens to bounce off a purple box.

"you know what?" virgril says to logan, tilting his head. "joke's on you, i'm taking that as a choice, so there."

"i'll take him," patton says, amused, and he picks up logan's pacifier. "i'll meet you all upstairs, i'm just gonna rinse this off really quick."

they all nod, virgil picking up the carrier so that patton won't have to juggle it and an armful of baby, so patton makes a brief detour to the kitchen to wash and rinse off logan's pacifier. really, even with as clean as the diner is, it still touched the floor, so.

patton ensures it's dry, before he makes an offer of it back to logan. apparently, since he's tossed it, he does not want it anymore, how dare you, and so patton takes a bit of time to walk around and get logan calm before he goes back upstairs, so that a fussy baby won't interrupt anything.

and, thank goodness, it seems like patton doesn't—mark is laughing, showing off one of the new aprons that was in the gift he chose, a mr. good lookin' is cooking one as freddie snorts to herself—so he settles in one of the chairs that's been pushed aside to make room for everyone in the middle of the room, the one next to where virgil's set down the baby carrier.

he carefully lowers logan into the carrier, holding his breath, and logan, thankfully, stays quiet.

so patton curls up in the armchair and he watches the danes have family time. they open presents in an order that patton doesn't really get—freddie gets the latest book of world records, then essie gets some kitchen tools that make her go "ooh!" so it's not by age or anything—and it looks... really nice, honestly. all of them are clustered together in a messy kind of circle, watching as each person opens their gift of choice. so they go, and go, until—

"last but not least," mark prompts.

"finally," silas says, and begins tearing it open as he's talking. "i get to see why i couldn't pick and everyone else could," he's opening the top of the box, and patton notices everyone in the family grinning, "seriously, this better be..."

he trails off. he stares. his jaw drops, just a little, and patton watches as silas' eyes go wide, and a little shiny, and he seems to just get a little... softer.

"i," he says, falters, looks up and then back down at the present. "i—i don't—how did you even...?"

"well," meredith says, with a kind of benevolent, easy smile, and she reaches over to squeeze silas' arm and mark copies and they are so clearly being comforting or something to him, what is in that box?

and silas smiles, a real, genuine smile. it makes him look nice. it makes him look good. and for the first time all visit, patton notices how little silas has been smiling, or excited, and the glimpse of essie and silas on the mezzanine, and it hits him that... that maybe his problem was never really just with patton at all.

silas unearths it, and patton... well, patton doesn't know what he'd expected, really, but it's not what silas pulls out from the box.

it's... a lego set. one of those big ones that make up a specific thing—patton can spy the millenium falcon, on the side, before silas wraps an arm around it, obscuring his view, but he's still smiling so much.

"i can't believe you got this for me," silas says.

"well, you begged for this, for years, and—" mark begins

"yeah, i," silas says, "i mean, it was—it was years ago, i never expected you to actually—"

"well, we promised, didn't we?" mark says, and simultaneously, silas ducks his head with a laugh, and patton feels like he's been punched in the stomach—

("—where were you?" patton asks. he's maybe seven, eight at oldest, and he's holding his skirt in his fist, tight, probably crumpling the material that his mother will yell at him for later, as if she has anything to do with the upkeep of their clothes, as if she won't just buy him a new one to dress him up in later.

"hm?" his dad asks, looking up from the papers, and patton clears his throat.

"where were you?" he repeats. "it was the school play today."

"oh," his father says absently. "was it?"

"you and mom promised you'd be there."

and neither of you showed up , he doesn't have to say. christopher's latest nanny dropping him off after a 'playdate' is enough evidence for that.

his father sighs, annoyed, and sets aside his papers. "your mother and i both had meetings, pumpkin, i couldn't very well skip it."

"but," patton says, floundering, unable to find words other than "but you promised."

"yes, well," his father says, "i'm sure there'll be another one. we can try and make the next one, darling, how about that?"

"but—" patton says, voice small, and his father nods, as if the whole situation is settled.

"why don't you run along, now? i have a lot to get finished, you know."

it's not a suggestion.

"okay," patton whispers, before he tries to swallow before he turns and runs out of his father's office, to fling himself upon his bed and sob, for no one to hear—)

a tiny voice in his head, with all the finality and gravity of the two paths of his future stretched out in front of him, says, i want logan to grow up with the kind of family that the danes' are.

and he does. he wants logan to grow up in a warm, loving family, with nicknames for each other, with him looking forward to spending time with his family, with christmas cookies and christmas movies and fights that always seem to get settled and don't leave him heart-achey and hurting for days at a time, with warm, happy time together that feels like it's out of a movie, with the kind of mystical warmth and christmas spirit that's easily within reach, with promises that always get fulfilled.

he wants logan to have that. he wants to be that for him.

then, the voice continues, you can't get that with the family that you have, and patton can practically see the gilded gates back to his parents' house close, and it's almost anticlimactic, like there's been something in his heart that's known that was how his life was going to go as soon as he'd planted that note in logan's crib, and oh god, oh, god, he's going to be emancipated, he wants to be emancipated, he wants to make his own family and oh god oh god oh god oh god oh fuck—

what kind of person does that make him?!

and with that, as the whole danes family is entrenched in their happy moment with silas, patton stumbles blindly to his feet and staggers for the nearest escape he can manage—the mezzanine.

it's bitingly cold, but that's almost welcome as the wind nips at his cheeks and his nose and patton grabs for the wrought-iron railing so he doesn't fall to his knees, because his legs are shaking and he's shaking, so patton blindly grips tighter at the railing and feels the cold wind steal into him and it's almost welcoming as his stomach twists, full of nausea and self-hatred because what kind of person does that make him, what kind of person is he to throw aside his parents and run away and stay away and want a whole new family, what kind of horrible person is he to think about that on christmas eve, and so patton feels his fingers go numb and his nose get cold and there's tears on his face, he thinks, or maybe it's snowing and the cold is hitting his face and melting, he doesn't know, he just knows that it stings, and he deserves it, he deserves it he hasn't even missed them the closest he's come is to missing the apple tarts, the fucking pastry, patton has been missing pastry more than his own parents and they're never going to want to see him again they're never ever going to want to see him again and he's going to deserve it he deserves to stay out here and freeze and his parents would be right to never ever talk to him again and there's a click and a gust of warm air and a feminine voice saying "wondered where you" before falling off and patton lets out a hitching, terrible noise, and "oh, sweetheart" before the warm air goes away.

"i—all right, honey, is it okay if i touch you?"

patton manages a nod, and shudders as meredith pulls him into a hug; she's warm, and she only flinches a little when patton's cold nose makes contact with her skin, and she wraps him up in one arm, cradling his head with her other hand, and patton rests his head on her chest, forehead resting in the crook of her neck, pulled there, almost like a doll, because he's so busy crying, because it isn't snowing, he's been crying, that he can't really negotiate a hugging position.

"can you try to breathe with me, sweetheart?" she says.

and patton tries, he really, really does, except he can barely take in a breath like she is before it gusts out of him in sobs.

"i'm sorry, i'm s-sorry," he chokes out.

"it's all right, sweetheart, it's all right," she says. "you're trying, that's what matters. you're doing a good job."

he isn't, he's doing the opposite of a good job, he's doing a terrible job—

"okay. in again, here we go."

except patton keeps doing a terrible job, he can't even breathe right, how on earth is he supposed to manage a baby, he's going to emancipate himself and he can't even breathe it's pathetic he's pathetic and a terrible person and overemotional and stupid and too sensitive and he—

"patton," she says, and patton tries to gasp for breath.

"y—you don't have to stay," he sobs, in a sort of shuddering way, and she shushes him even as he continues, "i don't wanna r-ruin your christmas, you don't have—"

she shushes him again, and says, "you aren't ruining anything, sweetheart, you aren't ruining anything at all, we were just all saying goodbye when we noticed you hadn't been there for a while, that's all, you're all right—"

patton sobs again, and she brushes her hand through her hair, still breathing deep for him to try to copy.

another rush of warm air, and "patton," virgil says, hushed, concerned.

"could you make him some tea?" virgil's mother asks him.

"he hates tea," virgil retorts, without thinking, and patton nearly smiles. it's true. he does hate tea. he's kind of surprised that virgil's remembered that, though. nearly no one remembers the kinds of foods and drinks he likes and doesn't like.

"hot chocolate, then," meredith says, and there's a noise, and patton lifts his head, staring.

"logan—"

"i got him," virgil says. "i got him, don't worry, just—"

he leaves, and the door swings shut, and so patton doesn't really have much of a choice but to lie his head back onto meredith's shoulder and try to pull himself back together.

it turns out he gets exhausted more than anything else before he's capable of pulling himself together, meredith continually sweeping her hand through his hair. but he guesses that it must look like he's managed it well enough, because she draws back enough to look at him.

"are you all right?"

"logan," he mumbles, and she lets go of him.

"we can check on him, if you'd like?"

he does. he really, really does. it's less of a he'd like to check on logan and more like he viscerally needs to check on logan. so she opens up the door for him and patton shuffles into the kitchen, looking around, and virgil glances up at him, logan in his arms.

"is he—?"

"yeah, he's good, just wanted some attention," virgil says. "we've just been kinda chilling. you want—?"

but patton's already reaching out to hold him before virgil can even finish the question, and logan makes an indignant sound of protest before he starts to settle again. patton takes some shaky breaths, holding on tight, staring down at his son.

i hope i'm making the right choice for you, patton thinks. but, again, there's that... there's that something in him. this is going to be hard, yes. this is going to suck a lot, yes. but he thinks... he thinks this is what's going to be best for logan. for them. he wants logan to grow up in this place where affection abounds, and everyone is so ready to reach out and help someone who needs it. he wants logan to grow up around the people in the inn. he wants logan to have a horde of honorary aunts and uncles and godparents. he wants logan to know virgil. he wants logan to know he has a loving family, even if it isn't his biological family, but the family they both choose.

he doesn't want logan to grow up expecting his dad to break promises.

patton leans down to press a kiss to logan's forehead, and logan makes a sleepy, content sound. well. at least one of them was easy to calm down, tonight. maybe they'll just swap off for the rest of time.

logan's forehead's very warm, and patton has a moment of panic, before he realizes that he's probably just freezing. he's spent god knows how long out on a balcony in the middle of winter, after all.

there's a sound, ceramic against ceramic, and patton turns just a little to see virgil, managing to hold three mugs in his hands, before meredith sighs at him just a little and takes one.

"dramatic escape to bury myself and pretend that never happened isn't an option, is it," patton says wearily, and virgil huffs out a laugh.

"not really, but couch or kitchen is."

"um. couch, i guess."

patton moves to plunk the carrier on the coffee table, but virgil does it for him, and patton gives him a look before he sets logan down—he's pretty sure virgil's going to have him drink cocoa, so he needs free hands, and he'd probably feed him if it was any other day, but patton's still stuffed full of christmas dinner and three different kinds of pie.

and, true to form, virgil presses the biggest mug of cocoa into his hands, before he shakes out his throw blanket and wraps it around his shoulders. patton looks at him in surprise.

"it's cold," virgil says defensively, as he tucks him into it.

"i guess," patton mumbles, and shifts where he's sitting, cradling the cocoa in his hands, letting the warmth seep into his palms. he keeps his eyes on it, too—much easier than meeting anyone else's eyes. god, way to make it all about you, patton.

"did we do something?" virgil asks hesitantly, and patton's neck just about cracks from how fast he looks up.

" no," he bursts out. "oh my goodness gracious, no, of course not, you guys have been great, i'm just—"

he chokes up, swallows, and gestures with the mug with a wordless kind of exhalation, and virgil and meredith nod like they understand. they're probably just being nice.

“logan cries all the time.” meredith says, suddenly.

“he’s a baby,” patton says miserably, pressing his fingers under his eyes to try and stop the tears from coming again. “that’s different.”

“is it?” meredith says. “when does he cry?”

something in patton shrinks. a question. and he’s going to get it wrong, because he gets everything wrong, because he’s an idiot, he’ll never be good for anything but—

“it’s not a trick question, i promise,” meredith says. “why does logan cry?”

patton bites at his lip, nervous, before he says timidly, “if he’s hungry.”

“good. when else?”

“um. if he needs to be changed, or—or if his colic’s acting up.”

“right,” meredith says. “babies cry when they need things.”

“are you saying i’m… a baby?”

“i’m saying that grown-up people—or teenage people—don’t change all that much from when they’re babies,” meredith says wryly. “would you get angry at logan for crying for something he needs? of course not.”

“but i shouldn’t,” patton says. “it’s—it’s christmas eve, you shouldn’t have to spend your christmas eve with me because i’m c-crying—”

“people cry, sometimes,” virgil says.

“except i cry all the time now,” patton says wetly. “i’m s-sorry, this was st-st-stupid, i’m stupid, you sh-shouldn’t have to deal with me when i can’t stop crying, um, i’ll go—”

“ absolutely not,” virgil says, so firmly that it freezes patton from where he’d been about to stand. “this is not stupid, this is you reacting to something that is a seriously huge deal, okay? however you’re reacting, for however long, that is perfectly normal. okay? not bad, not strange, not stupid. ”

but i am , patton would say, but he can only look down at his hands in his lap and take in a shaky breath.

"do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?" meredith asks, brow creased in concern.

"you don't have to, if you're uncomfortable," virgil says hastily, and he adds, "drink your cocoa, you look like you're freezing."

he takes a sip. unsurprisingly, it's delicious, creamy and rich and good, and so he takes another, deeper sip, and it's like it's warming him from the inside out. huh. turns out he is pretty cold. he ends up drinking about half of the cocoa in one go, then he cradles the mug in his hands again, staring.

well. this isn't when he'd wanted to tell virgil, but it isn't exactly when he'd wanted to have this realization and subsequent breakdown, either, so. patton's gonna have to take what he can get.

"i'm just," he repeats, and he hates how defeated his voice sounds.

"yeah?" virgil prompts softly.

"i—i haven't told you yet, but, um. maria put me in touch with a lawyer to maybe make the whole not-going-back-home thing, like. legal." he swallows. "permanent."

"oh," virgil says.

"yeah."

"i—when?"

"um," patton says, and wearily scrubs a hand across his face. "your birthday? i think that's when i got the—the document, anyway."

"oh," virgil says, and his voice is strange. he's staring at patton, and patton can't read the look on his face, and—

"please don't be angry," patton says, and his voice cracks.

"oh, patton, no, no no no no," virgil says, a tone of panic entering his voice when he notices that patton's started to cry again. "hey, patton, listen, it's okay, i'm not angry, i promise—"

"i'm sorry," patton chokes out, and he scrubs his sweater sleeve under his eyes. “you sh-should be mad at me.”

“well, i’m not, so there,” virgil says, and patton looks down at his cocoa again and tries to breathe deep, to calm himself down, except it comes out hitching and shaky and definitely like he’s still crying—

“aw, buddy,” virgil mutters, and hesitantly shuffles closer to put an arm around patton’s shoulders. patton sniffles, and takes the opportunity to bury his face from their staring, because really this is incredibly embarrassing and he doesn’t deserve comfort, but—

selfish, overemotional creature he is, he’ll take it. he’ll take it for as long as he can get it.

“i’m not gonna be in my family anymore,” patton sobs out.

“hey, that—that’s not true, necessarily,” virgil says. “you’re you, you could work something out—”

“i’m throwing anything nice they’ve ever done for me back in their face and spitting on it—”

“hey, no, no—”

“—because i kept so many secrets for so long and this included, i mean, i didn’t even tell you that i was thinking about being e-emancipated—”

“—which you’re totally allowed to do, if it’s what made you feel comfortable and safe—”

“why are you so nice to me?” patton bawls into his chest. “i’m a terrible person.”

“you’re a good person,” virgil says firmly, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his arm. “you are a good person. you just got dealt a really bad hand, and you’re trying to fix it with the tools you’ve got, okay? wanting some distance from your parents does not make you a bad person.”

“they’re gonna hate me,” patton bawls. “i’m an awful son and an ungrateful idiot and i’m a disaster and—”

virgil says, in an even, comforting voice, “you’re a good son, you are not ungrateful, you definitely aren’t an idiot, and, i mean, who can say they aren’t a disaster, sometimes? and they are not gonna hate you.”

“ i hate me.”

“hey, no, no, no,” virgil says firmly. “you are a good person, okay? you’re just going through a lot right now, and that’s okay. just—just let it out.”

and so patton falls apart, and anytime he thinks he’s close to regaining some kind of composure, he falls apart again, and again, and again, and he really doesn’t know how long he spends tear-staining virgil’s shirt, or how long he spends when meredith eventually moves to sandwich him between her and her son, or how long it takes until finally, at last, he gets dehydrated and cries himself into puffy, red eyes, unable to shed anymore tears even if he’d wanted to.

at virgil’s gentle urging, he finishes another mug of cocoa (the one he’d had before had long since grown cold) and, as he’s staring at the dregs, he swallows.

“i should go,” he says.

“yeah, uh, no,” virgil says. “there’s no way in hell i’m letting you be alone right now.”

a beat, the sense that meredith glowers at virgil over patton’s head, and then he adds, “um, that, except, like, pretend i was more sensitive about it.”

“you don’t have to—”

“patton,” he says. “i would not let anyone who just cried on my shoulder be alone after, let alone you. i mean, you could stay here, if you want. you could go with my mom, if you want. just—just don’t go back to the poolhouse. or at least, if you’re going, i’m gonna go with you.”

“i—”

“patton,” he says. “it’s christmas eve. just for tonight, i can help look after logan and we can tell him about santa, or we can eat leftover cookies and cocoa, or you can just go to sleep, or whatever, just… don’t be alone. please. ”

patton hesitates. on one hand, he’s kind of embarrassed that he broke down this much in front of virgil and his mom, who patton barely knows, really. on the other hand…

well, on the other hand. he doesn’t want to be alone right now. he really, really doesn’t. and he loves logan, loves him more than he could ever have imagined loving someone, but… well, logan is a baby. he’s not exactly company.

patton chews his lip, before he says, “i don’t have anything to wear.”

“you can borrow some of my old clothes for pajamas, if you want,” virgil says immediately, back straightening up a little, like he’s paying closer attention. “and, um—”

“i can drop by your place to pick up clothes or anything the baby needs and swing by early tomorrow,” meredith says. “mark and i were planning on swinging by early anyway, really, to see if virgil needs any help with breakfast.”

“oh,” patton says. “i—okay. yeah. that works. thank you.”

“do you have a preference? for the clothes i should grab, i mean.”

“oh. i mean, i—i have a box of sweaters? any one of those should work,” patton says. “it should be right by the door. i can just re-wear these pants.”

“box of sweaters, got it,” meredith says. “do you want anything else? water, more cocoa?”

“no thank you.”

“all right, then,” she says, and gently squeezes his shoulder, rubbing her thumb briefly over his shoulder blade before she rises to her feet and gathers the empty mugs in her hands. “i’ll just drop these off in the kitchen, then.”

she rises to her feet and, with that, logan, patton, and virgil are on their own.

“um,” virgil says. “so, i could. i could grab some stuff for pajamas now, if you want. or we could explain the miracle of christmas to logan. or—”

“pajamas sounds good,” patton says. “i—i kind of just want to go to sleep.”

well, really, it’s less of a i want to go to sleep and more like this was so embarrassing and i really don’t want anyone to look at me right now, but. sure. sleep sounds good too.

“yeah,” virgil says, getting to his feet. “yeah, of course. um—follow me.”

it’s not like patton really needs the direction—this is a one-bedroom apartment, after all—but patton picks up logan’s carrier and obediently plods after him anyway.

virgil’s room is dark, and tiny. there’s a pile of blankets on the bed, messy, which shows patton that virgil doesn’t really make his bed in the morning. there’s a couple discarded clothing items on the ground, like the purple flannel he wore yesterday, and the black hoodie he wore the day before that, but other than that, the room’s pretty tidy, with a few frames dotting the walls, the windowsills, and the top of the dresser, which virgil is now digging around in, so patton can’t see them.

however, he can tell that there are some framed posters on the wall, and patton smiles a little. bands that, a couple weeks ago, he’d been surprised to learn virgil really liked, some art that fits the dark kind of vibe, and—

“disney guy, huh?”

“oh, yeah,” virgil says, and awkwardly smiles at him a little over his shoulder. “um, don’t spill my secrets.”

“cross my heart.” patton says, and does so with the hand that isn’t holding logan’s carrier.

“okay, so,” virgil says. “um. you know where the bathroom is, here, i’ll take logan so you can get ready for bed. i think i’ve got a spare toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink.”

mostly on autopilot, patton hands over the carrier and accepts the clothes that virgil sets in his arms. he goes into virgil’s bathroom. he closes the door. he plants his hands on the counter, and stares at himself in the mirror.

jesus, he looks awful.

his eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks flushed and patchy, tear-streaked and exhausted. the bags under his eyes are about as deep as they’ve ever been, patton thinks, and that’s just his face and not even going into the rest of his body, which patton has a much more complicated relationship with, and this is not the time to get into this he doesn’t think he could cry again but he doesn’t want to risk it, so. he turns his back to the mirror, and shakes out the clothes that virgil’s grabbed for him.

they. are. massive. they are so big. like, patton knows that virgil’s taller than him—patton thinks he’s almost exactly a foot taller than him—but it’s almost a whole other thing to hold one of virgil’s old shirts up to his body and watch as the hem falls practically to his knees.

okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. but it’s not a huge one.

he keeps his back to the mirror as he changes—honestly, it’s fortunate that he’d worn one of the really comfy nursing bras that are meant for sleeping anyway—and ends up drawing the elastic drawstring of the sweatpants as tight as they’ll go, shoving them high on his hips so they can at least catch on the wider part of his belly, because if he wears them like he wears his normal pants they’ll undoubtedly fall down. and even then, patton has to bend to roll up the hem of the sweatpants, so he won’t trip and fall over them. patton usually wears bigger, baggier clothes (hurrah dysphoria) but this is above and beyond patton’s usual fare.

it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like it, though. he likes it a lot. under this black t-shirt advertising a sideshire winterfest from a few years back, there is only the vaguest suggestion of a body, no telling what gender. the clothes are well-worn and cozy, and patton feels oddly comforted at the sensation of them. (even men’s clothes feel better on him than clothes made for women. he isn’t sure if that’s the sexism or if it’s him being trans, but, honestly. the presence of pockets alone are such a gigantic benefit.)

so, after having splashed some cold water on his face and brushed his teeth with the fresh-from-the-plastic-packaging toothbrush that he’d found tidily tucked away along with enough spare toothpaste, shampoo, and soap to last virgil probably until he’s forty, he emerges back into virgil’s bedroom to see him wrestling with a fitted sheet.

“what are you doing?” patton asks, going to peek briefly at logan’s sleeping face from where he’s safely tucked away in a corner—probably the best place for him, really, if he’d been put on the top of the dresser there was the slightest chance that logan might fall, which is a chance that patton doesn’t want to take, and anywhere else in the room there might be a chance that he’ll get stumbled over, or, god forbid, stepped on, so—

“putting down fresh sheets for you,” virgil says, and scowls at the corner he’d just tucked under, as if ensuring that it’ll stay through willpower and intimidation alone. “sorry, i don’t have very many super clean blankets, but i just washed these last weekend so they should be okay—”

patton frowns. “i’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“that’s right,” virgil says, “ i’m kicking me out of my bed.”

“virgil—” patton begins in a sigh, but virgil’s already shaking his head.

“think about it logically,” he points out. “you have quickest access to the bathroom from here, which means quickest access to a surface that logan might need to be changed on. if you need water or anything, sink’s right there. if you need some privacy to feed logan, you’ve got it—”

“but—” patton tries.

“patton,” virgil says. “i know for a fact that your ‘bed’ in the poolhouse is just a busted old pull-out bed. please just take the chance to sleep in a real, actual bed for the first time in nearly two months.”

patton hesitates.

“consider it a christmas gift,” virgil says, and patton sighs in defeat.

“all right,” he says. “okay, fine. one night.”

“hey, that’s all i ask,” virgil says, and takes a step back. “okay, i think i managed it fine. if it tries to mummify you just yell for help.”

patton huffs out a laugh and extends his leg, so virgil can see how many times he’d had to roll them up. “if your clothes don’t do that first, you giant.”

“i’m 6’2”, that’s normal enough,” virgil says mildly. “you’re just a shrimp.”

“i am not a shrimp!”

“you’re, what, five foot even?” virgil says, and it’s so clear that he’s been joking to try and get patton to smile, but right now it’s just genuine joking for the sake of joking, not even a little pitying.

“five feet, two inches, and a quarter ,” patton says, and jabs a finger in his direction. “do not discount the quarter.”

“yeah, i guess when you’re that tiny, you take what you can get,” virgil says, and patton huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“you know,” he says, “i’m not even done growing yet.”

“a common defense.”

“ especially when i get back on t,” patton continues. “i’ll grow more then. i might even grow a whole foot. ”

huh. when i get back on t. not if, not a potential, distant, hazy future thing. when i get back on t. that’s nice to realize, patton thinks. being able to resume transition, that’s something to look forward to in his future, too. so that’s two things on the list. logan, and transitioning.

“that sounds like a whole lot of excuses, for a shrimp,” virgil says.

okay, three things. logan, transitioning, and gloating to virgil when patton towers over him.

“i might even be taller than you and then you’ll be sorry.” patton says, shaking his fist up at virgil jokingly.

“oh, i tremble in fear of the day,” virgil says dryly. “i bet you could team up with the baby, logan might give you some much-needed height.”

“he’s twenty-one inches,” patton says, “so you know what? give us a bit of time, when he’s able to hold up his head reliably i can put him on my shoulders and we can—”

“put on a trench-coat and pretend to be an adult so you can try to buy a ticket to an r-rated movie?” virgil says, and patton weakly punches virgil’s arm even as he laughs, and they settle into comfortable quiet.

until—

“virgil?”

“yeah?”

“um—thanks,” he says, looking at virgil sidelong, and virgil’s looking at him, all quiet and respectful and not even a little pitying, like patton had almost been a little afraid of happening. brown eyes a little shiny, even in the dim light, but steady, and warm. “for—for this.”

“hey,” virgil says. “what are friends for, right?”

“not just, like, the pajamas, and the bed,” patton continues, “for all of this. the christmas, the food, the helping with logan, and the—the everything. ”

a tiny, special kind of smile quirks virgil’s lip.

“i don’t know how i’ll ever be able to pay you back,” patton continues.

“this isn’t a thing to pay back,” virgil says, “you know that, right? that none of this is anything to pay back? all the stuff people do here—they’re doing it to be nice, not because they’re expecting some kind of retribution. well, i mean, they’re probably expecting you to be nice back, but i don’t think you’ll have much trouble with that, since you’re a nice person, so—”

“yeah, well,” patton says, staring at his bare feet, as the sweatpants he’d so dutifully rolled up are starting to puddle around his ankles. “still. thanks.”

“i mean, hey,” virgil says, even softer. “what are friends for, right?”

⁂

meredith watches as her son cautiously tiptoes out of his bedroom, and from the stillness beneath his hoodie that he’s holding his breath. he eases the door painfully, slowly shut, before he turns to her.

“they’re asleep,” he informs her, barely above a whisper.

“good,” meredith says back, in the same tone. “that’s good. let’s go downstairs, i don’t want to risk waking them.”

virgil nods, taking a moment to drop some of his spare blankets on the couch, before he obediently plods behind her, down the stairs, into the diner that once bore her name. none of the other children are there; mark must have sent them along, back to the inn.

however, mark glances up at the sound of footsteps, taking a moment to hastily finish his sip of tea before setting aside the mug. meredith’s not a betting woman, but if she were, she’d put her bets on lemon balm; most nights, since freddie was born, he’s had a mug of the stuff to wind down before bed. meredith’s more of a chamomile woman, herself.

which is exactly what’s in the mug he nudges before her, and she smiles at him in thanks. it’s probably a bit strained around the edges. she’s going to need a boatload of chamomile to calm herself down, tonight.

“is everything all right?” mark asks mildly, clearly posing it more to virgil than her, and virgil shifts even as he slides into the booth across from them.

“uh,” virgil says. “so, turns out. patton’s been considering getting emancipated and he just now decided that he’s gonna go through with it.”

“oh,” mark says, and sets aside the teacup with a definite clinking sound onto the table. “dear me. that’s quite a step further than you mentioned when we talked.”

“yeah, since i didn’t know,” virgil says, and accepts the mug of tea that meredith pushes toward him—boy knows better than to refuse his mother food or drink. it doesn’t help the dejected look on his face. “i didn’t even—i just thought he was having trouble sleeping, how did i not know how un-okay he was?”

“oh, virgil—” mark begins.

“i should have noticed,” virgil says. “he comes here almost every day and i didn’t even notice how upset he was until he was having a breakdown on my balcony—”

“cinnabun,” mark says. “it’s very nice that you’re looking out for this boy, but you aren’t a mind-reader. none of this is your fault.”

“of course it’s not,” meredith says. “virgil knows that. don’t you, virgil?”

he should know that. the ways virgil has been helping that poor teenager and that baby, from what she heard through mark, after they met the poor boy for the first time, and maria, when meredith had wrangled her into coffee, is proof enough for that, let alone all the little day-to-day things that she hasn’t heard, that she knows her son is capable of giving. tough exterior, her virgil, with a soft center. he’s the best of the both of them, meredith thinks, briefly bumping her shoulder against mark’s. all of their children are.

but virgil hesitates for just a moment too long, and mark puts his hand on meredith’s before she demand to know why on earth he thinks that it’s his fault, of course it’s not his fault, didn’t he see how much he was helping?

“some people,” mark says, “are very, very good at hiding when they don’t feel okay. you can’t help someone when they’re hiding it. and it certainly isn’t your fault if you don’t see it, at first. that isn’t your fault. you aren’t the one who hurt him. what matters is that you’re doing what you can.”

“i still didn’t see it,” virgil says. “i mean, you—you always see it. with everyone. ”

“not always,” mark says. “not with you.”

meredith leans a little harder into her husband’s side.

of the two of them, mark’s always been the sensitive one. always, always. she was the one who brought him flowers on the first date, he was the one to swoon and go sappy over romantic gestures, she was the one who had awkwardly mumbled out a response to his first “i love you,” too unequipped to actually respond properly. he was the one who cried during sad movies, to be swayed to adopting some poor unfortunate animal. he was the emotionally adept one.

he’s the person that people went to advice. he’s the person he’d be the person to quietly intercede and discuss matters with a diner attendant, and she’d come back to someone crying on her husband’s shoulder. it’s like he has a sixth sense.

so not cottoning on to the fact that so many of virgil’s teenage behavioral issues were rooted in some deep, emotional conflicts? his own son?

mark had taken it hard. they both had, of course, they’d both had their moments in the aftermath of virgil’s diagnosis wondering if there was somewhere they’d gone wrong, relentlessly backtracking their memories to see each and every opportunity they had missed to reach out to virgil and intercede sooner. but for mark, it had been a whole other level. how could i not see him? he’d asked her bleakly, one night. how could i do that to him? how did we not know as soon as he started acting out? how could i have possibly failed him like that?

meredith had, perhaps, seen that her husband had taken it hard, and moved to blame the only outward source she could. oh, of course, in retrospect, she knows that remus duke was only a little older than essie and silas, but…

but.

her husband had been hurting. her husband is the emotional one, the soft one. of the pair, she’s always been the angry one, the defensive one, the fighter. for better or worse.

virgil looks into his cup of tea, and mark’s hand moves to squeeze his wrist.

“i’m not trying to blame you,” he says, quiet but firm. “you were hurting. you did what you thought would help. i didn’t understand. what matters is—and i hope you agree—we did what we could to help you when we did understand.”

“you did,” virgil says.

“and that’s what matters,” meredith says.

“i hardly think you’re just going to abandon that boy and that baby because he’s just now told you about something that’s bothering him,” mark adds.

“of course not,” virgil says, a little offended.

“well, there you go,” meredith says. “you can’t change the past, you can only keep moving forward.”

“emile says the same thing,” virgil says, and then his eyes widen. “i’m an idiot.”

“what? no, you’re not,” meredith says heatedly. if emile picani has taken a sudden turn to cruelty she’ll march right in there and—

“ emile, ” virgil says, and opens and closes his hand. “someone has to have a pen—”

meredith takes one out of her pocket—waitress hobbies run deep—and virgil scribbles a few times on the corner of a napkin to get the ink flowing. meredith tilts her head in order to read what her son is scrawling.

emile picani, the address, phone number, and he’s my therapist. i know he has experience with emancipation stuff and he does pro-bono confidential stuff for teenagers, if you ever want someone else to talk to about everything. he’s a bit weird (really into cartoons) but he’s a really good guy.

“just so he has the info,” virgil explains, folding the napkin into a crisp square. “god, i can’t believe i didn’t think of emile until now.”

meredith frowns. “haven’t you been seeing him lately?”

virgil shrugs. “holiday hours, for the both of us,” and, presumably because he can see the pair of them gearing up for a lecture, “i had an appointment in november and i’ve got an appointment sometime in the middle of january, i’m still taking my meds, i’m doing pretty okay on the whole anxiety front, promise.”

“pretty okay?” meredith repeats. she’d sure hope that her son was doing a lot better than pretty okay. she’s really hoping that all of her children are deliriously happy.

“kinda hard to be like yeah, i’m doing real good with anxiety, mom,” he points out, and she cedes the point.

oh, not for forever, of course. she’ll be asking after him whenever she can get him alone. but she’ll cede it for now.

“do you think he’ll go?” mark asks.

“i’ll encourage it, and i’m sure if i mention it to maria, she will too,” virgil says. “i’ll make sure and grab one of his pro-bono cards so that patton knows it won’t be too expensive or anything. so. we’ll see.”

he pauses, before he says, “i think it’d be really good for him to, y’know. talk to someone about everything. having a kid, running away. his parents.”

aaaand that’s what makes meredith snap.

“ parents,” she hisses.

“mer,” mark begins, with the distinct tone of now, let’s keep our heads, but meredith shakes off any of that, because—

“what kind of parents raised him to think you’d be angry at him for being upset,” meredith snarls.

“shitty ones,” virgil agrees, scowling, and meredith jabs a finger at him in agreement as mark sighs at him for swearing, before doubling down and saying “real fuckin’ shitty ones.”

“virgil,” mark says, in warning.

“he’s right,” meredith says. “mark, if you’d seen how upset he was—”

well, patton would have gotten calmer a lot faster, probably. mark was always better with crying than her—even back when the kids were all babies. the only surefire way she could calm them down when he couldn’t was when it came to feeding time.

“they are his parents,” mark says.

“which is exactly what he would say,” meredith points out. “what, just because they’re his parents, he should tolerate them treating him badly?”

“of course i’m not saying that,” mark says, placatingly.

“virgil,” meredith says. “how bad did that boy have it, before he got here?”

virgil hesitates. meredith leans forward.

“i need to know if i should swear to kill them or not,” she says, joking only a little. virgil’s lip quirks, ever so slightly, so she guesses she’s succeeded.

“but, seriously,” she continues, “we’re all thinking the same thing, right? about helping patton give logan a great first christmas, by giving patton a great first christmas away from home?”

virgil nods.

“right then,” meredith says. “is there anything we should know?”

“he hasn’t told me tons,” he cautions them. “and this—y’know. this should be kept quiet. as far as i know, it’s—it’s just maria and me who know this stuff.”

“if you’d be betraying confidences,” mark begins, but virgil huffs out a breath.

“i was kind of planning on going to see emile about it anyway,” and oh, even if the sobbing, near-hysterical teenager hadn’t been a hint, that’s another big one. though this is something that, admittedly, she and virgil might not see eye-to-eye on, virgil’s therapy habits are sound. meredith thinks he should go more frequently; virgil makes appointments sparingly, to discuss things that really weigh on his mind. he tends to rely on other coping mechanisms before he goes to therapy.

planning to go see emile about something was a surefire sign that virgil was, well. anxious.

mark exchanges a look with her—clearly, he’s come to the same conclusion—and meredith takes a sip of her tea, mostly for show. she can barely even taste it.

“so,” meredith says. “patton’s… history.”

virgil sighs, a long, gusting breath, and traces his pinky once, twice, thrice around the rim of his mug, trying to gather his words together.

“patton’s family is rich,” virgil says bluntly. “ really rich. sickeningly rich. i looked up a few of the organizations that patton mentioned his mom was a part of and this one art piece that patton said they had in his house that he hated and they’ve got to be, like. i don’t want to ask patton and pry too deep, but they’ve gotta be multi-millionaires, easy. that might even be the low end of the prediction spectrum.”

“oh,” mark says, and meredith wonders if his mouth has gone as dry as hers has. multi-millionaires. well, you wouldn’t predict that just by looking at patton, with his secondhand sweaters and ill-fitting jeans and also the fact that he lives in a poolhouse . “goodness me.”

“yeah,” virgil says. “so. i dunno what patton’s dad does exactly, he told me but i kind of forgot. i think it’s insurance or banking or something, and his mom is on like a million committees, and they’re old money, i guess, so they pride themselves on contributing to society or whatever. stereotypical snooty rich people. you know the type.”

not personally —it’s not like stereotypical rich people tend to frequent diners—but as a business owner, meredith knew the type, or at least, the kids of those related to the type. convinced that since they were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, their lives were just as hard as the lives of families like meredith’s, who’d had to count pennies and struggled their way to each payday just to barely scrape by. and that they were better than people like her and her family, and that they had one something to deserve their amount of privilege and fortune rather than just hit the lottery in the genetic draw.

“anyway. so. his parents…”

virgil huffs out a breath, and takes another deep one in, and meredith probably shouldn’t be surprised that he looks like he’s fighting to keep calm. usually, he doesn’t take after her in conflicts; that is to say, virgil’s never been very shouty.

“his parents,” meredith repeats, trying to urge him onward.

who patton wants to separate himself from legally, and felt the need to run away with a newborn , and is willing to give up all those multi-millions of dollars just to get away from them. meredith feels a creeping sense of dread in her stomach.

“i hate them,” virgil spits out, and then an almost-surprised look at his own vitriol that flashes across his face, before he doubles down. “i mean—jesus, i’m twenty-three, and i know that it isn’t a good parenting move to keep telling your kid their life plan that’s detailed down to the very college dorm and expect them to keep at it perfectly despite the fact that he’s his own person, for fuck’s sake,” and he’s off.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because how was virgil supposed to help a sixteen-year-old kid? it’s not like virgil’s in the habit of making friends with sixteen-year-olds, since he’s twenty-three, but patton has so few people on his side, not even his own parents, so virgil’s all in for him and that tiny little baby that are both asleep upstairs.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because virgil had no idea how to strategize how to help this poor homeless kid, who sleeps on an old pull-out couch (maria had said that the latest mattress to get harmed in some way was going straight to patton but how often did an inn guest harm their mattress?!) and won’t let people lend him any money and virgil’s trying as much as he can, giving him a newly-invented family-and-friends discount and inviting him to do some odd jobs at the diner on the weekends just so he could make sure that he’s getting fed and has some money to save and how is he supposed to help when patton was so wary of it?

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because how was virgil supposed to help patton transition into learning that being treated with kindness wasn’t a debt to pay and that not everyone has it out to lecture him about every little thing he does wrong.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because meredith’s about ready to take the car and drive into the city to give them a piece of her mind. meredith doesn’t want patton near those people, but if she ever has the opportunity to meet them—

“i’ll kill them,” meredith says, cold and bleak, and virgil meets her eyes.

and, for maybe the first time she’s ever made that threat, she isn’t sure how much she’s kidding.

from the glint in virgil’s eyes, she’s pretty sure that he doesn’t know how much he’s kidding, either.

mark, always the level-headed one, lays his hand over hers.

“hey, now,” he says, and then, “that’s hardly in the christmas spirit, is it?”

“i don’t feel particularly christmassy,” virgil mutters.

meredith can’t help but agree. christmas is supposed to be about laughing children, the glee of tearing shiny wrapping paper off that gift you weren’t expecting and yet was so perfect that you should have been expecting all along, cuddling with her husband on the couch with a warm mug of (spiked) eggnog in her hands, watching their children play and talk as they bounced around with the boundless energy of youth that only seemed escalated by a christmas morning, the solemn beauty of a congregation singing christmas hymnals, the warm feeling of all of humanity taking a day, just a day, to remember that they’re all in this together and to reflect on what’s important: family, and friends, and kindness, and good will to all.

christmas wasn’t supposed to be heartbroken, abandoned, homeless teenagers. christmas wasn’t supposed to be screaming babies. christmas wasn’t supposed to be about missing something that he should have had to sever himself from. christmas wasn’t breakdown after breakdown. christmas was supposed to be a lot of things, but not sad. never, ever sad.

and, meredith thinks with a surge of that old, familiar anger, it wasn’t about to be. she wouldn’t let that happen.

she’s on her feet before she even realizes it, and both mark and virgil blink up at her in surprise.

“we all agreed that we invited patton to our family christmas because we wanted him to have a great one,” she says, shrugging on her coat and grabbing her purse. “so, we’re going to give him a great one.”

“uh—i mean, sure, mom, that sounds great,” virgil says. “but it’s nearly midnight on christmas eve. what—how are we going to do that?”

meredith smiles, letting it unfurl on her face.

“oh, god, no, i know what that look means,” mark says, then, slightly more pleading, “meredith, honey, it’s christmas. ”

“what?” virgil says. “what does it mean?”

“it means,” meredith says, smiling as wide as she can, “that i’m going to go and raise hell as a special christmas treat for taylor doose.”

#my post #text #the sideshire files #my fic #my fanfic #sanders sides #love light gleams

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leelee10898 · 5 years

Text

Fast cars & Freedom: Finally home (16/16)

Here it is... the final chapter had arrived. Thank you everyone for riding along with me on this. My first attempt at ROD, althought we may be closing out this, it doesnt mean we have seen the last of this gang. I have some one shots and possibly a mini planned in the future!

I want to give a few special shot outs @riseandshinelittleblossom for pushing me to do this. @brightpinkpeppercorn for putting up with my crazy venting self!! And also the babies first name! @choicesarehard for her amazing edits and @desiree-0816 for being the biggest cheerleader.

Pairing: Colt x Ellie, mpc crew and friends.

Rating: fluff

This song I picked because it sums up Colt in a nutshell.. also its from one of my favorite movies, and gave me slight inspiration.

Ellie sat slouched back on the couch indian style, amazed she could even get her feet to bend that way. Any Day now she sighed, her hand rested on her swollen belly. She was huge this time around, much bigger than with Luca, her feet were swollen and she couldn't fall asleep without a back rub. "Well she's asleep, finally." She smiled at the shirtless man in front of her as he laid on the couch, his head resting in her lap. "How many books did it take?" She giggled as she ran her fingers through his dark locks. "Only two tonight. guess the rehearsal dinner wore her out." A sudden jolt against her stomach collided against the side of his head.

He turned facing her stomach, one hand on the side "Hello in there. You can come out now, daddy can't wait to meet you." He spoke to her stomach, placing a soft kiss against her bare skin. Ellie smiled looking down at him, the sight completely melting her heart. The baby always reacted hearing Colts voice prompting a dance party usually. They weren't sure what the sex was, both wanting to let it be a surprise. If someone had of told her almost a year ago that this would be her life, she would have laughed. Yet here she was married to Colt, raising their daughter together with another on the way, living next to the beach and ridiculously happy. Any time now she whispered again. "We should probably get to bed, big day tomorrow." Colt stood, kissing her forehead. "Mmhmm." She practically hummed. She had been having Braxton hicks contractions the past few days, on top of the swelling and the last minute preparations for her dad's wedding, she was exhausted.

"You ok baby?" Colt looked at her concerned. "Yeah, just these braxton hicks again. Help me up?" She held her hand out as Colt carefully helped her off the couch. They made their way up the stairs slowly, Ellie in some pain, but she hid it from Colt. Her dad was getting Married tomorrow and she was not missing it. She knew Colt would take it as a sign she was in labor, and rush her to the hospital. The doctor and Ingrid both told her that the Braxton hicks contractions were going to be felt more intense the end time around, and she was positive that's what it was, besides she was almost 2 weeks late with Luca, her due date was a week away.

They laid in bed, colt started at her feet, then her stomach, shoulders and then her back. He had been amazing throughout the whole pregnancy, never missed an appointment or ultrasound, always attentive, took every mood swing and craving in stride, and he massaged her swollen, achy body every night. He was an amazing Husband and Father, Ellie thanked god and Logan every chance she got, that they talked her out of going through with the divorce. Sure he was a smart ass, and stubborn to boot, but he was always there for her, had her back and supported her no matter what and he genuinely cherished every moment he spent with them.

The past 8 months have been such an amazing time for them. Colt and Luca were like two peas in a pod. They witty banter between the two kept Ellie in stitches and on her toes. They had drove to Lake Tahoe to see Colts mother, who apologized profusely for stepping in and causing problems. Ellie and Colt both accepted and they had an amazing relationship. She had pulled out all of Colts photos growing up to show Ellie and Luca. Ellie forming the conclusion that Luca indeed looked just like Colt as a baby. If she had of seen those pictures before the plate test, she was certain that she would have known instantly.

Darcy and Colt spoiled the hell out of her, Darcy ecstatic to have a granddaughter and equally happy to have another little one coming. She literally pissed her pants when she went to open the back door one day and was greeted by a small pony. Of course Colt bought her the damn pony, she knew he would. She had to double check that, neither He nor Toby stole said pony, old habits and all. So yes, everything and everyone was amazing and blissful.

Ellie shot out of bed with a sharp pain to the abdomen. She let out a low, dull sounding moan shit that one hurt. She waddled to the bathroom and got into a warm shower, relaxing her immediately. After her shower she waddled naked back to the bed. Colt rolled over, rubbing her stomach. "You ok?"

"Yeah, just uncomfortable. Lets try and get some more rest, big day ahead of us." She tried to assure him, hoping he bought it.

A few hours later they were up, and out of the house. Colt had bought a minivan for Ellie, although he drove it more then she did. He had his and ellies hospital bags packed and in the van, along with the car seat installed and the diaper bag ready to go. Colt played no games when it came to being prepared for this baby, he could not even wait. They had a quick breakfast with Frank, sally, Logan and Stacie before the girls were separated and taken for hair and makeup. Ellie was Sallys maid of honor, Stacie a bridesmaid. Ellie sat in the chair, taking deep breaths, stacie looked over at her "You ok?" Ellie gave her a quick yes, but she knew Stacie didn't buy it. Once Sally stepped into the changing room Ellie tried to walk over to the couch, but a strong pain hit her like a brick. She doubled over and Stacie was on her. "You're in labor aren't you?" Ellie gave her a pleading look. "I don't know. I don't want to ruin my dads wedding. Just let me get through the ceremony. Please don't say anything especially to my husband." She paused looking down at Stacies slight bump "or I'll tell Logan its a boy."

"Fine! But you know he doesn't want to know yet. Stacie snapped.

Sally walked out the girls dropped their conversation. "Sally, you look so beautiful. Dad's going to cry." Ellie teared up. "Really Sally, you look so beautiful." Stacie confirmed. Just then they heard a knock on the door. "Knock knock. I came to collect a bride." Logan popped in, his eyes settling on his mother. It was an odd, yet great feeling to see his mom getting married. Logan grew up without any one, and in such a short time he gained an entire family and was starting his own. The photographer came in to take pictures, first of Sally alone. Ellie hunched over again, this time Logan seeing it. "Ellie, you ok?" She looked up at him, trying her best to lie "oooh yeah. This one just kicked me, hard." He gave her an unbelieving look, before setting his gaze on stacie. "Colts kid." She offered up.

They finished taking pictures, Logan walked his mom down the aisle to a teary eyed Frank. Ellie was right, her father cried, and so did Sally, Ellie, Stacie and Riya. Colt and Logan served as Franks groomsmen. They made their way to the reception Colt and Luca sitting next to Ellie who was taking deep breaths. "Ellie, what's wrong?" He asked concerned. "Nothing. Im fine, just standing too long." She lied.

"Maybe we should go to the -" Ellie cut him off.

"No Colt! We are not going to the hospital and ruin my dads wedding for nothing. So please lets just enjoy the day ok?"

She knew it may be a good idea to go, the contractions were stronger, closer together then they had been. Still she wanted to be there for her dad.

The reception in full swing, Luca dancing up a storm, she was the life of the party. They followed through with the motions, wedding party dances, dinner that Ellie barely touched. She sat at the table, shoes off and extremely uncomfortable. Colt crossed the room standing before her "Dance with me Mrs Kaneko?" He gave her a devilish smirk that made her heart soar. "Of course. But only because you look incredibly sexy right now." She took his hand and joined him on the dance floor. The swayed together as close as they could possibly get, before Ellie stopped abruptly. Colt slipped a little "Shit, be careful El. I think someone spilled something." He said looking down at the puddle by their feet. "My water. My water broke." She looked up at him, wide eyed. "Your. Oh shit." He looked around for help, he had no idea what to do in that moment.

Ellie doubled over, a wave of extremely strong contradictions hitting her hard. "Ok, just breathe El. Were gonna get to the hospital." Colt looked up, seeing Logan "Logan, I need your help." Logan, noticing the panicked look on his face rushed over. "The baby's coming. I need your car." Colt told him, Logans car was much faster than the minivan. Ellie let out a painful moan, getting the attention of pretty much the entire room. Logan tossed him the keys, colt giving him the keys to their van. "Mom, can you keep Luca for us?" Colt looked towards his mother. "Of course. We will be up soon. Good luck you two." Darcy gave them each a quick kiss and hug.

"What's going on?" Frank came up, concerned. "Babys coming. We gotta get to the hospital." Colt filled him in as he ushered Ellie towards the exit. "I'm coming with you guys." Frank insisted. "No daddy. Finish the wedding, please." She groaned out. "Ellie I-"

"No. You have fun. Come up after ok." She cut him off. "I love you Eliana."

"Wait for me. I'm coming with you guys." Riya insisted. Colt nodded and off they went.

Colt speed to the hospital, they rushed inside and were whisked away to a room. Riya called the doctor ahead to inform him that Ellie's water had broken and she was on the way to the hospital. "Hi mrs Kaneko. Im kelly, I'll be your nurse. Dr Coulson will be here soon." The short blonde woman said, taking her blood pressure and hooking her up to monitors. Another contraction hit her hard "oooooh god." She screamed out as colt grabbed her hand "breathe El." He tried calming her as she firmly gripped his hand. "Ok. Your contractions are consistent, lets see what progress you've made." She checked dilation and station. "Oh wow, your at 8 hun. And the baby is low. Let me try and get the doctor on the phone." Kelly stood, quickly exiting the room another contraction hit hard and she almost jumped off the table. "Whoa Ellie." He steadied her. "It hurts. Fuck!" She hollered. "I know baby. Your doing so good. What did you do with Luca to ease the pain?" He asked. "I had an epidural. This fucking hurts." Finally the dr walked in.

"Hello Ellie, colt. Ready to have a baby?" Dr Coulson smiled. "Beyond ready doc." Colt beamed. Ellie nodded, sweaty and heavy breathing. "Yeah, pressure, lots of pressure. can I get something for the, ooooh pain?"

"Well. You were at 8 a little bit ago. Let's see where your at now." The dr checked her, shaking his head. "Well, this baby is ready to come out. Your at 10."

Everything happened fast, Colt stood there at Ellie's side gripping her hand as she put her feet in the stirrups. He could feel the adrenaline kicking in, like he was just about to race. "Ok Ellie, with the next contraction i'm going to need you to push." Dr Coulson ordered.

Ellie beared down and pushed hard, Once, twice. Colt was amazed as he watched the woman he loved bring the life they created into the world. The baby's black full head of hair first, another big push and the baby was all the way out. "You did it El. Our baby is here." He sobbed as they heard their child's healthy set of lungs. "Its a boy." Dr Coulson announced. "We have a son Colt." Ellie sniffled. They cleaned him up and placed him in Ellies chest. "He's beautiful." Colt showered her in kisses. The nurse snapped a few photos for them before he was taken to the warmer and weighed and measured. He was 8lbs 6oz 21 ½ inches, had a head full of jet black hair and looked exactly like a scrunched up version of Colt.

They nurse brought him back over, placing him in Ellies arms. Colt sat on the bed next to his wife and son, Ellie looked up at his blissful face she knew exactly what he needed. "Here you go daddy." Ellie said as she handed him off. Colt took the tiny person in his arms,he looked down at his son, a sense of pride washing over him. He had texted his mom after they were given the ok for visitors, a short while later Darcy walked in with a shy Luca. An odd sight if they ever saw one, the once outspoken, opinionated 6 year old was now cowering behind her grandmother.

"Hey princess. You want to come meet your baby brother?" Colt beamed at his daughter. She nodded her head hurrying over as colt squatted down to her level. "He's so tiny." Her small voice almost a whisper. Darcy came over to hug Ellie before taking a glance at her new grandson. "He looks just like you did as a baby." Colt looked up and smiled. "So, we got a name for this little guy?" Darcy eyes the two. "We do." Ellie spoke, "but we're waiting to tell everyone when they get here."

They didn't have to wait long, the room filled with all of their family and friends. Barley anyroom to stand, they all crowded around the sweet little bundle of joy. Another momento of the love they shared, and someone to share the over abundance of aunts and uncles they had. Colt sat next to Ellie as she held their son, Luca on the other side. Everyone snapping pictures of the happy family in front of them. "Ok everybody, Colt and I would like to formally introduce you all to our son." She smiled as she looked to Colt. "Everyone, meet Cade Teppei Kaneko."

They chose to name him after Colts dad, who they were sure was looking down on them. He wasn't there for Colt, but Colt was sure he would have been for his Children. Ellie may have started out as someone the crew used for information, but in a short time she changed them all, for the better. Colt stood back, looking at the group of people in front of him. The motto of the crew was always look out for yourself, somehow along the way they became a family. Ellie came into his life like a hurricane and turned his world around. He once told her she was his queen, that they would run the city together but these days he was thinking bigger. She was his queen, but not of the city, she was queen of the world, his world.

He closed his eyes, envisioning his father. "Life is good pop. And it's only going to get better."

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#ride or die bad boy romance #choices ride or die #choices ride or die: a bad boy romance #fast cars and freedom rod au #leelee10898 fan fic #i love colt kaneko #colt x ellie #colt kaneko

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romerona · 5 years

Text

TRUBLEMAKER

Book: Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance

Pairing: Logan x MC(Tessa)

Rating: +18 cursing and Little sex related talk

Summary: Logan’s POV on the first”date”

Note: takes place in chapter 2

Special thanks for @desiree-0816 for helping me a lot.

Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios

After I dropped her to her house, I went back to the shop when I got there the crew were doing their things ,Mona is working on her car while Ximena is giving Toby a new tattoo....

Toby - Hey! Logan where were you?” He asked wincing as ximena is working on his skin.

Ximena - Toby stop moving damnit!! She asked too where have I been?

Logan - On a job.” I said making my way to the kitchen.

Toby - tell me about it I need a distraction pleaseeeeee.” he said pleadingly

Logan - nothing really important just sold a car to a rich kid, talking about that I have to give the money to kaneko.”

I knock on his door seconds later he opens it I told him about the night and my plan with the cops to make Tessa trust me.

Kaneko - good, she already trust you or at least feels like she has to . Keep hanging out with her soon she will tell you everything.”

As I'm going up the stairs to my loft and I hop on my bed, I'm think why is my heart still beating fast is it from the car chase from the police and the adrenaline is still pumping through me from it... I'm sure that's what it's from... For some odd reason my mind keeps going back to that kiss with Tessa.... As if I was the first boy to give her, her first kiss ever... I couldn't help but think of the way her lips felt against mine and the softness of them and oh how sweet they tasted... I was noticing that when a gasp went through her lips when I deepened the kiss with my tongue, so damn cute....

A kiss from a girl like her has never had effect on me like this let alone this kind of feeling's...

Logan - Why the fuck am I'm thinking of her and her lips, he says this out loud to himself.... I tried to distracted myself from thinking of Tess and her lips so I grab my phone from my pocket and I went to my Instagram account and I found Tess on my account....

So I started thinking for a few minutes should I send a request, I just rolled my eyes and put my phone away... It hasn't even been 5 minutes later and I was once again thinking about Tess and if I should just send the damn request.... FUCK!! Why the hell am I'm acting like this she's just a fucking job... Oh come on man get your shit together....

Logan - Shit! She didn't give me her phone number and I still need to be able to communicate with her so this really is the best options....

So I pressed the follow button and I put my phone away and I started to get ready for bed... Once I went back to my bed I saw that she has already accepted my request...

I started looking through her photos on her Instagram account and I noticed she didn't have a lot of selfies or pictures of herself... As I was scrolling through more of her pictures, I saw one where she with these two people it looks like they are best friends.... A boy called Darius and a girl name Riya and it looks like Darius and Riya are dating... It seems like Tess only hangs out with both of them a lot...

This makes my job so much easier then and as I smiled to myself and soon my eyes was getting heavier and I drifted off to sleep....

Early in the morning I got this crazy idea I should invite her to the sideshow and show her a side of myself... The only side I will let her see plus I be in my own damn element... I started typing and I just put some stupid pick up line and I know that this will make her blush...

Logan - I send her that and the address and time where to meet me for our date...

I went down to eat breakfast and started working on the car that was due yesterday and I took a look at my phone and nothing, she hasn't even text back or anything... Shit! I was thinking maybe I over did it with kissing her last night...

No it's not that maybe she just realized I'm not someone she wants to be dating... Why would she date a lowlife like me but fuck I need her.... I mean I need her for the job of course and I can't let Teppei Kaneko down...

Sever hours have passed and I still haven't received a text from Tess yet and as I was about to give up when her text came through...

Tessa - Sure, I Be There ☺️

I let out a breath that I was holding in and I thought to myself my plan is working, soon we will have what we need to know...

Later on that day I went back up to my loft to get some sleep for tonight and soon there was a knock on my door that woke me up...

Mona - stop slacking off, boss wants to see you”.

I got up and head to his office when I got there he was working on something.

Kaneko - Logan, I need you to take this documents and give them to this man his name is Fabien Ahmad”.

I look at the time shit! I don’t have to much time I have to see Tessa.

Logan - where is he?”

Kaneko - he is going to be at the sideshow tonight”.

I felt relieved because that the same location that I'm meeting Tess for our date and I can give these documents to him there before I go meet her...

A while later at the sideshow

Logan - Hey are you Fabien Ahmad ? “

Fabien - Depending what do you want?”

Logan - Kaneko sent you this “. I give him the documents and make my way around the sideshow, Tessa should be here already ,where is she ?

When I finally found her my fucking eyes went wide and they started to wonder on her perfect body Holy Shit she looks hot tonight.... She was wearing shorts that makes her legs look delicious and some red and black top that adjust perfect to her upper body... I can't look away so I decided to walk where she is and without taking my eyes off of her... As I get closer I realized she talking to someone...

Some dude on a motorcycle looking like he is full of himself...

Colt - Ah, here comes the white Knight in shinning armor now..

I was only fucking late for 5 minutes and some asshole took that chance to talk to her to get her for himself.

Logan - Who this? I asked

Colt - The guy who had to keep your little girlfriend company he said while looking up and down Tess body...

This action annoyed the fuck out of me and who the fuck does this fool think he is, she with me....

Colt - I can see what you like about this guy, sweetheart. He said mocking Logan

What the fuck does that supposed to mean?? Why is he calling her sweetheart and why does he keep looking at her like that, like he know her... He such a tool and my blood is starting to boil over but I managed to keep it together....

Logan - you really trying to test my patient, aren’t you??

I'm seriously starting to consider beating this asshole up...

Tessa - everything is fine. promise

Tess voice is so soothing for me until this asshole winks at her and said I see you around... Like fuck you will! I will never let her be alone in here again for an asshole like you talk to her.

After the biker guy let me and Tess starting talking for awhile now and my eyes couldn't look away from her... She looks so damn hot tonight and before I could stop myself my hand was already touching her smooth skin..

As I was showing Tess around the sideshow I noticed that a lot of fucking guys and girls were checking her out...

So I took her by the hand and I glared at all the people who was staring at Tess and I said fucking try something.. She’s with me and only me and god help anyone who trys to take her away from me tonight...

Dammit why do I feel like this, why I am acting all possessive of her I have never care if someone else was checking out the girl I was withs so why do is care so much when they do it to Tess.

As we continue to walk around the sideshow I saw that she was amazed by this place..

Tessa - You don't have anything to prove to me Logan.. hearing her say that makes me feel so good inside because my entire life I had to prove to others and myself... Hearing her say that feels really good and warm inside that I never felt before... Damnit what is she doing to me but I have to shake this feeling she just a job...

Logan - Sure I do. I’ve got something to prove to everybody”.

Trying to change the subject quickly as possible lead us to Vaughn food truck it’s weird I never thought I would present someone to him let alone a girl after all he’s the only family I have and Tess is special...

Fuck Logan she is just a job get that in your head and even if she wasn’t you don’t deserve her.

We eat and talk with Vaughn for a while as I expected he likes her, Vaughn then tells me that Kaneko he’s looking for me. He will be pleased to see that I’m hanging out with Tessa ,still why would he be looking for me .

As we make our way to Kaneko , Tess ask me about him ,I tell her who he is and my relationship with him and after that I tell her a little and the jobs I do for him. When we arrive I start talking to him then his gaze fell on Tessa.

Kaneko - And who might this be?”

Tessa - l’m Tessa, Logan’s date.”

Tess answers before I could say something , I like that about her she isn’t waiting for someone else to present her she do that herself , but she says it a little Shyly but I who wouldn’t get shy in kanekos gaze.

I Fake explain him about yesterday‘s events and he lectured me as if he didn’t know about it. Then I am lead away from Tessa for kaneko.

Kaneko - You invite the girl here ? “

Logan - yeah I thought it would be good showing her a side of me so she Has to trust me more”.

Kaneko - good thinking anyways I need you to look after my car while I take care of some matters”.

He leaves and it’s just me and Tess again i feel she is a little tense about what just happened with kaneko so I flirt a little to dismiss the tension we walk to other part of the sideshow. I see Tess eying The dance floor with awe and after a small talk I managed to convinced her to dance with me, I normally don’t dance in this place but I am not letting the opportunity to feel Tessa’s Body pressed against mine past.

We started dancing she looked tense at the beginning but she loses up after a while, at one point of the song we look at each other’s eyes I am completely dumbfounded by her beautiful eyes.

When she catch the beat she turned around so now her ass is press against my length, this is so fucking hot I feel my cock twitch, dammit I can’t get hard right now. What is happening to me?

I mean yeah , I have had girls dance on me like this before but doing it with Tess is different, is hotter , is better I don’t understand how but it is , fuck, looking at her moving her hips against mine is so hot and above all she’s wearing this little outfit that makes me want to rip it off.

Soon this song ends and another one starts she looks back at me ....damn she’s beautiful even when she is covered of sweat.

Tessa - I Think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day. . .

No no no, this moment can’t end yet. I pulled her back to me and convince her to dance with me again, as I wrap a hand on her Waist the other one find her hand , this feels more intimate than the last one.

Tessa - where do you learn to dance like this?”

Logan - Around”

Tessa - girls?”

Is she jealous? Tess not even Hundreds of dances with any of them can come close to a single dance with you ,Tessa you actually make me feel something.

I keep those words to myself.

After a while in the song I spin her and pull her back to me, my self control left my body when I started to trail my hand down her soft hair but I didn’t stop there even If i wanted to I can’t, then I touch her pink cheeks, her throat , the middle of her chest. As I am doing that I realize how good it feels to have her like this , to be the only one to have her in their arms, to be the only one in her eyes, to be the only one touching her and soon she is asking me to kiss her, now been the only one she kiss.

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spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 4

Chapter: 4/12

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:

Excerpt:

Remus smacked the back of Janus’ head with his open palm. “You sneaky little shit."

“Maybe now you’ll think twice about your letter-writing habits.”

Remus fixed Janus with his glassy-eyed gaze and gave a slow, wicked smile. “Was it not up to your ssssssssstandards,” he asked, “you good old-fashioned lover boy?”

A palm-sized origami frog perched on Janus' door at about eye level, with a small envelope in its mouth. Remus' work.

You know that talk is cheap

And those rumors ain't nice

And when I fall asleep

I don't think I'll survive the night

Janus peeled the frog off the door and examined the envelope as he walked to his desk.

He handled it gingerly, but it didn't explode or burst into flames or (God forbid) start singing. It was only an envelope with a single sheet of paper inside, on which Remus had written… his version of a love poem:

Dear Patton-oster,

How fiercely dost thou squeeze my pulsing heart!

Thy fist that veiny organ grips too strong.

Let my blood coat thy most clandestine parts:

By which, of course, I mean your dick-- come on.

My heart thy dick with equal firmness hold,

And stroke thyself as I too stroke for thee:

Yes, nightly! nightly! many nights untold,

I marry the bed, wishing it were thee.

I do admit thy puns exasperate,

Still, I picture you when I masturbate.

Signed,

Your Secret Admirer

Face aflame, Janus carefully folded the letter, placed it back in the envelope, inserted the envelope in the frog's mouth, gently placed the frog in his wastebasket, and set the whole thing on fire.

He had work to do, work that didn't involve Remus' influence.

Exerting his own influence over Thomas' thoughts was a mere matter of re-prioritizing. It was easier now that Patton wasn't outright working against him, although their functions were still nearly incompatible.

Janus stared at the empty expanse of the desk before him, shiny lacquered ebony, and braced his elbows on it. It helped to move his hands as he worked. On a good day, he would use all six. Today, he only used two, and weaved suggestions. He bound them up with logic (or what seemed like logic) and tied them to anxieties.

The fire in his wastebasket went out on its own, but not before leaving scorch marks on the side of his desk and filling the room with a smell of smoke that brought Janus' headache back with a vengeance and made his eyes water and his throat sting.

He spared a thought to summon two more aspirin and a glass of water (no, Blue Cherry Gatorade).

He got the hard work out of the way first before moving on to innocuous white lies. These came attached to morality. Janus focused on his work rather than letting his mind wander to thoughts of Patton's smile, the way his laugh made Janus feel like he'd just stepped into a sunbeam.

Hours must have passed, but he scarcely noticed, caught up in the gentle flow of his work.

"Janus?" The sound of knocking on the door brought his train of thought to a screeching halt.

Janus dropped the threads he'd been holding and immediately started to cough upon snapping back to reality. What had he been thinking, setting a fire like that?

"You okay in there?" Patton asked, voice muffled through the door. "I think I can smell smoke!"

"It's nothing, Patton." Janus wiped his streaming eyes. The tears left dark marks on his gloves. "One moment." He walked, slowly, like everything was under control, to the door, vanishing all the smoke and fixing the side of his desk as he went.

He only cracked the door at first, in case this was some sort of elaborate trap to get him to socialize with the others, but it was only Patton who stood there. He was holding a sheet of computer paper, folded into a card.

Janus' gaze fell on it and he forgot social niceties, nearly igniting his wastebasket again in a fit of panic. Surely Remus hadn't--

"It's for you," Patton said, holding out the card.

"Oh." Janus took it and examined the crayon drawing of a rainbow on the front. " Please tell me this is a disturbingly well-thought-out love poem."

"What?" Patton's smile became strained, then faltered into a look of puzzlement.

For the second time that day, Janus was forced to hide his blush under a mask. "Never mind. It was a bad joke." He took the card from Patton. "I'll just open this." He proceeded to do so while Patton babbled something about leaving poetry to the 'prose.'

The card turned out to be an invitation to watch Planet Earth with Patton and Logan later that night. Endearingly, Patton had included a little notecard so Janus could RSVP.

Janus summoned a brass Monteverde Invincia in his right hand before realizing he had no surface to write on.

Patton evidently noticed him floundering and turned around, removing his cardigan as he went. "Here, use my back."

"Couldn't I just tell you?" Janus mumbled, though he knew the answer. By summoning a pen, he had demonstrated a willingness to play the game.

So he pressed the RSVP card to Patton's back and marked the box next to 'yes.'

The bare patch of skin where his sleeve cuff rode up brushed against the fabric of Patton's shirt, sending a white-hot thrill through Janus' chest.

For unrelated reasons, he dropped the pen. He sent it back to his desk before it hit the floor. "Done."

Patton turned around and snatched the card from Janus' hand before Janus even registered what was happening. For a split second, his face lit up. Then it fell back into a neutral, guarded expression. "Do you mean it?" When Janus nodded, he continued, "I kind of would have expected… y'know, the opposite."

"I wasn't trying to be considerate; I know how much you love it when you can't understand me."

"Oh! That is nice of you, Janus."

Janus waved a hand. "Well, we're all making changes." He carefully did not make a face after saying this. He'd known it was true, but it felt different to say it out loud; it made a sick shiver crawl down his spine. Then something else struck him. "Oh."

"What?"

"Remus is likely to drop in tonight." Patton tilted his head, and his eyes flicked between Janus and the direction of the curtain, so Janus elaborated, "No, I didn't invite him. Never mind the fact that there's no way I could have while standing here and talking to you, it is precisely the fact that he wasn't invited that makes me think he's going to come."

"Oh," said Patton. "Should I invite him? I don't want to be rude."

Janus' mind jumped to the ashes still smoldering in his wastebasket and said, "No." He lowered his voice and added, "But when he does show up, please do try to give him a warm welcome."

"Him?"

Janus only raised an eyebrow. "Unless you have some moral objection?"

Patton sighed. "Okay."

In the few hours before he was due to meet Logan and Patton in the living room, Janus finished up his work. Logan had pointedly straightened out a few of the logical fallacies Janus had woven, and Janus could practically see the red ink splashed across Logan's papers. He let a few of them go, tied the next few tighter, then sat back in his chair.

Whatever Virgil and Roman were doing in their rooms, they certainly weren't working very hard.

Janus passed by their doors on his way to the living room and perceived no signs of life from within, not that he cared. He had extended hands to both Virgil and Roman in the past; it wasn't Janus' fault they wanted to burn bridges. His conscience was clean on both accounts.

End of story.

He definitely wasn't wearing a bitter scowl when he arrived in the living room, and his first reaction upon seeing Patton absolutely was not a warm smile that he hurriedly had to divert into a smirk. That would be silly. Like the others, Patton was a pawn to be used when Janus needed, and tolerated when he didn't. And that absurd cat onesie he was wearing wasn't cute in the slightest.

"You're not wearing a onesie," Patton said, vaulting over the couch with none of a cat's grace. He landed heavily and planted his hands on his hips. "Didn't you read the dress code, bud?"

"'Bud'?" Janus repeated, making no effort to conceal his disgust at the over-familiarity. Just how far was he going to let Patton push him?

Patton faltered and blushed and Janus forgave everything in one fluttering heartbeat. "Sorry," Patton said. "You don't seem like a 'kiddo,' so I thought I could try a new nickname." A look of horror dawned on his face and he gasped and added, "Not that I don't like your name! I think 'Janus' is a lovely name but I call everyone else 'kiddo' so I thought-- But then--"

Janus failed entirely to hold back a rush of laughter. "It's fine. Really."

"So I can call you--"

"Janus. You can call me Janus."

"I'll find a nickname you like," Patton said with a decisive nod.

"Where's Logan, anyway? It's very like him to be late."

"Logan's in the kitchen," Patton waved a hand in that direction. "He's trying out a new method for popping all the popcorn kernels without actually burning the popcorn."

"Well, doesn't that sound fascinating."

Patton didn't appear to be listening. With his mouth twisted in thought, he looked Janus slowly up and down. "Hmm."

Janus swallowed. "Like what you see?"

Patton snapped and suddenly Janus was clad in warm fleece. "Now I do!"

"A parrot?" Janus said, looking down at what was evidently a scarlet macaw onesie.

"Okay, so, maybe I panicked," Patton said. "But I think it suits you, and I ain't fffflying." Janus squinted. Patton continued, apologetically, "Bird puns are harder than you'd think."

Janus adjusted his hat. He kept up the dignified silence just to watch Patton squirm, and not because he was trying to think of a better bird pun. "I suppose I can handle being a parrot for tonight," he said finally, giving up. Patton was right; bird puns were hard.

Just then, Logan emerged from the kitchen with three mismatched bowls balanced in his arms. "I tried using a wok to pop the kernels, and it actually worked quite well."

"Patton got you, too?" Janus asked, studying Logan's unicorn onesie with a critical eye.

Logan thinned his lips and colored slightly. "Well."

Janus made the realization a half second too late. "I suppose it logically follows," he said hurriedly, well-aware that he was making absolutely no sense.

"Oh?"

"I don't expect you'd be able to properly relax in jeans and a tie." Janus waved a hand and noticed a flash of yellow-- Patton had left his gloves on him. Which was to be expected. It wasn't like Janus made any effort to hide how important they were to him. So he didn’t feel all warm and fuzzy that Patton had noticed this and left them (and his hat) on.

Logan gave a short nod and indicated for Janus to take one of the bowls of popcorn.

Remus made his appearance near the beginning of episode two of Planet Earth. “Monkeys, hm?” he said, popping up behind the couch.

They all flinched, even Janus, who had been expecting this. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Patton shook himself and turned toward Remus with a pasted-on smile. “Remus!”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Patton’s eyes flicked toward Janus, who gave him only the tiniest nod of encouragement in the hopes that Remus wouldn't notice anything amiss. “Uh, I was hoping you would drop by! It’s good to see you.”

“It is ?” Remus said, recoiling. “What’s gotten into you, Daddy Dominus?”

“Nothing! Just bein’ friendly.” Patton’s smile was fading by the second.

“Actually,” Logan said, “I was also hoping you would show up.” He scooted closer to Patton to make a space by the armrest. “You can sit next to me if you’d like.”

Remus glanced between Patton and Logan, his look of puzzlement rapidly morphing into disgust. “Why?”

Finally, he looked to Janus in desperate agitation, his eyes wide and expression utterly helpless. Janus allowed himself to laugh. It wasn’t often that he got one over on Remus, who was notoriously hard to ruffle.

"You!” Remus shouted.

“You should have ssseen your face!” Janus said in between breathless spasms of laughter.

Remus smacked the back of Janus’ head with his open palm. “You sneaky little shit."

“Maybe now you’ll think twice about your letter-writing habits.”

Remus fixed Janus with his glassy-eyed gaze and gave a slow, wicked smile. “Was it not up to your ssssssssstandards,” he asked, “you good old-fashioned lover boy?”

Janus bit his tongue. Now was not the time to engage Remus in an argument, playful though it was. “Why don’t you sit down by Logan and watch the monkeys? Now that you know he and Patton don’t want you here.”

“I don’t-- You asked--” Patton protested feebly.

Remus was examining his fingers like he was thinking about sticking them in Patton’s mouth when Logan interjected, “I was not in on any prank, Remus. You’re welcome to sit next to me.”

Remus ignored him. “This isn’t over, Shakespeare in the Dark.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see what you do next.” Janus waved goodbye as Remus sank out with one final lewd gesture at Patton. Before Logan or Patton could ask any questions, Janus snatched the remote from Logan’s hand with one deft motion and hit play.

The rest of the episode became blurrier and less meaningful by the moment until the sight of the TV screen slipped away, then the sound, then everything.

Janus only became aware he’d fallen asleep when he half-woke in somebody’s arms.

“Don’t freak out,” Remus said, “it’s just me. Didn’t think you’d want to spend the night on the couch.”

Janus nodded against Remus' chest and closed his eyes again.

Aside

When the clock struck 3:00 am, Roman stuck his head out his bedroom door and looked around for any signs of life. He couldn't face the others, not yet. Seeing nothing, he walked barefoot to the kitchen. He stared at the carpet as he went, still keeping an ear out for any indication that the others were awake. But there was nothing, so he proceeded.

The kitchen was dark except for the light over the sink, which Patton always switched on at night. Roman sighed and braced his arms against the bar. He had hoped the change of scenery might make him feel better,, but it only increased the loneliness sitting heavy on his chest.

He jumped when Virgil’s voice came from the shadows. “Been missing out on beauty sleep? You look rough.”

Roman turned to find Virgil seated on the counter opposite the bar with his legs splayed out in front of him and his back pressed against the fridge. He breathed a sigh of relief through his nose. He could at least face Virgil. “You don’t look so good yourself.” It was true. Virgil's coal-black eyeshadow was smudgier than Roman had ever seen it, and the way it streaked down toward his jaw made it look as though Virgil had inadvertently smeared it with his fingers by repeatedly running his hands down his face. "Where have you been, anyway?"

Virgil's lip curled. "Let's just say I'm going through it right now and leave it at that."

"So am I, my preoccupied purple partner. So am I." Roman hopped up on the counter by Virgil's feet and nearly smacked his head on the cabinets. Virgil, to his credit, only laughed a little bit. "I actually haven't seen the others in… several days now."

"Did something happen?"

"Let's just say a certain sneaky snake Side slithered his way into a situation that didn't concern him."

Virgil sat up straight. "What did he do? Is everyone okay?"

"Oh, everyone's fine. He and Patton and Thomas are all best pals now, and… Well, I suppose royal red is going out of style."

"He turned Patton against you like that?" Virgil demanded. "How? Patton can be naive at times, but he's not dumb ."

Roman sighed and buried his face in his hands. "No, Virgil, I'm afraid that was all me. I don't even want to tell you what I did, but I'm going to stay in my room until… Well, I don't know. Until the nightmare ends, I suppose."

"Jeeze." Virgil gave a mirthless chuckle. "Well, now my thing doesn't seem so bad. I also haven't been out of my room in several days."

"I know, Sweet Emo-tion, I was starting to worry. What happened? Did Thomas start thinking about that time in 9th grade where he--"

"No!" Virgil said, a touch too loud. "Uh, no. I… I told him."

"...About that time in 9th grade where he--"

"I told him I used to be, you know, a 'Dark Side'."

"And he took it badly?" Roman asked. "Really? But he loves you."

"He just looked at me." Virgil swallowed hard, his eyes vacant. "And somehow his silence was so much worse than anything he could have actually said to me."

"Well." Roman let his head fall back against the bottom of the cabinets with a dull thud. "Aren't we the pretty pair? The disgraced prince and the not-so-reformed villain."

"Yeah."

For a moment, they were silent.

Then Roman said, in an uncertain tone. "Virgil?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I really never thought I'd say this, but. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm glad it's you ."

"Honestly? Same." Virgil bit his lip and fixed his gaze on his socks. "Do you... maybe want to hang in my room for a bit? We can have a sleepover. A really depressing, pathetic sleepover."

"I think I'd like that," Roman said. And for the first time in days, he smiled .

#spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: dream police - cheap trick

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