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sidespromptblog · 5 years

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Liar: Part 6

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, and End

Summary: In the midst of a breakdown, Deceit comforts Logan. It is while doing so that Logan decides that if the others can't accept him for him... then he'll just be what Deceit is... another liar.

Word Count: 2500

A terrible kind of dread made Logan’s stomach feel as if it were caving in, Patton’s words echoed around in his head like screams that had been locked down in a cavern with no way of escape. He was thankful that he wasn’t holding his mug right now, otherwise, his grip would have shattered it completely, leaving the broken shards in his hands. He felt a sour kind of foreboding at the moral side’s words, whether it was intentional or not it didn’t change how he felt in regards to it or how he was reacting to it either. His chest felt tight for a moment, like someone was stepping right on his chest knowing good and well that it made sure he couldn’t breathe right. A foreign feeling of fear raced through his veins the longer that he looked at Patton, he couldn’t look away no matter how much he honestly really wanted to.

Within a matter of seconds, he had shifted his leg, throwing Patton’s hand off of his knee.

“Listen,” He growled, leaning in as he seized the front of Patton’s shirt, bringing him down to eye level so that he could glare right back at those warm brown eyes. “I don’t trust you. If you try to repress, suppress, or whatever the hell you’re calling that word nowadays, Deceit-” Another snarl curled up in his throat, as his lips twisted into a dark sneer as a rush of rage thrummed through his body. Just the mere thought of Deceit being hurt, of being shoved down even deeper than he already was in Thomas’ mind made Logan’s stomach alight with a blaze of protectiveness and worry. He.. he couldn’t let anything happen to Deceit, he just couldn’t. “Then, I will ensure… that every waking and unconscious moment of your existence, is the least pleasant one that you will ever experience. Do I make myself clear Morality? If you hurt him… I will not hold back on you.”

“Logan!” Roman admonished him quickly as he slammed his cup down, hastily rising in order to get Patton out of Logan’s deadly grip. “That’s enou-”

“Okay.”

“Patton!” Roman snapped, his fists clenched so tightly that he was sure that the nails biting his palms would draw blood any second now. His fingers itched at him to draw his sword, to protect Patton, to protect his love from whatever kind of agony that would befall him. He wanted to act, he wanted to something… anything really that would help get Patton away from Logan’s quickly acting hands. However, just taking one look at Delta, with the way that his knees had once again scrunched up and the way that he was now clutched his cup close to his chest as his eyes darted from Roman, to Patton, and then to Logan. That one look alone told him, that if he were to whip out his sword right now and charge at Logan…

It would only do more harm than good at this point.

With his hands raised in a peaceful gesture, Patton gingerly laid his hands over the top of Logan’s giving them a gentle and precise pat that he so dearly hoped calmed the other’s nerves. His throat had gone completely dry at the sight of those slivers of silvery-blue staring back at him, he could feel the emotions coming off of Logan in waves. The terror that he felt at the prospect of even trusting Deceit into his hands, the worry, the wariness, the distrust, and just the slightest inkling… the smallest sliver of hope buried like a shard underneath a burned down and ruined house. All emotions that Logan was feeling right now, all aimed at him, and the problem was… Patton couldn’t deny him those feelings. They… he had done things in the past that made those feelings warranted, it made Logan’s intense distrust of him even more valid. As much as he would have liked to deny that he had anything behind this… he couldn’t lie to himself any more about it. They weren’t a perfect family, and that was mostly his fault for separating them all in the first place. Thomas had been scared, and he had acted. Which… wasn’t exactly one of his finer moments.

He couldn’t just do things, and just point fingers at the darker traits of Thomas. Not anymore.

“If I hurt him, do whatever you feel is necessarily Logan.” He told the other side sending Roman one precise look that told him not to move a single muscle towards them, the first step to regaining trust was not to lie in the first place, and well… he’d already messed that up. “You care for Dee a lot don’t you?” He asked, before gingerly tucking a lock of hair out of Logan’s face. “I would be up in arms if anyone hurt Virge or Ro-Ro, so whatever you decide to do if I hurt Dee… is completely acceptable. It’s..” Patton’s thickly swallowed at the sheer look of confusion on Logan’s face as his grip slackened to the point where he could easily get out of it. “It’s okay Lo.”

It wouldn’t be okay for a long time to come, but… baby steps.

“I…” Logan swallowed thickly as he jerked his hands back from Patton’s shirt as if he’d just been electrocuted, the look on his face was unreadable and Patton’s heart broke for that look. “I’ll ask him, if he says no though…” Logan trailed off, but even so, Patton nodded easily enough. If Deceit said no, if he trusted him less than however much Logan trusted the moral side, then… Patton really wouldn’t be all that surprised really. But he could at least hope, that maybe.. just maybe…

Nevertheless, Logan offered them all one last look, even going so far as to throw a single grimacing smile over to Delta before he sunk out. Leaving all of them in complete and utter silence before…

“So…” Roman awkwardly mumbled to himself as he rubbed the back of his head before looking over to Delta who.. if possible looked even more uncomfortable after Logan had left. “Do you like board games?”

Rising up in his bedroom, Logan could feel the onslaught of exhaustion abruptly slam into him with only just a moments notice the very second that he stepped foot inside. His entire body sagged, and for a brief second, he contemplated just falling down and sleeping on the floor to get a quick nap before he talked to Deceit about what Patton wanted from him. Because despite what he had said and done, confronting people who he barely held an inkling of trust for now, and knowing that one of them had lied to his face… it was exhausting, he was legitimately tired in ways and places that he had never been tired before. Everything all the way down to his bones felt sore now that he was no longer keeping up appearances in front of the others, even his eyes… god, he could feel his eyes against his eye sockets.

His bed looked awful inviting right then and there…

However, that one thought was soon dashed as soon as the warm body collided with him, knocking back against the wall as the many arms twisted and wrapped around him in a delightfully warm and tender hug.

“You’re back,” Deceit’s voice was full of something close to reverence and sheer relief at the sight of Logan, one of his hands brushed against the curve of Logan’s cheek. A prickling of warmth ignited in the dishonest side’s stomach at how easily Logan leaned into his touch, his eyes fluttering shut at the sheer magnitude of safety and tenderness that surrounded him all at once. “You look exhausted dearest, you should really sleep before you head back. I can hear all about it when you wake, so much must’ve happened. But it can wait.” It would have been a lie if he had said that he didn’t want to hear it right then and there, but he was not willing to risk Logan’s health and mental wellness just to put Logan through the ordeal of describing everything to him all over again. “Come on,” Without another word having to be said, he led a willing Logan towards his bed.

It could wait.

Within minutes, Logan’s leather jacket and ripped jeans had been swapped out for a comfortable pair of pajamas that felt just right against his scales, and after that, the feeling of the covers being pulled up to his chin left him no choice but to close his eyes and sleep. “He wants to talk to you,” He slurred the words out as his eyes struggled to stay open and his brain to stay away, “Patton, he said.. he said that he wants to meet with you and talk.” He got the words out as quickly as he could before his brain shut down and he fell asleep. “Thought.. thought you ought to know…”

Logan’s eyes slipped shut easily as a pleased groan left his lips at the fingers that buried themselves into his hair massaging his scalp.

“What do you think I should do then?” Deceit easily asked, momentarily making Logan’s eyes blink open in surprise. “You were there, and you talked with him. Should I go?”

The mere fact that Deceit had even asked him, that he was asking him what he thought and that he valued Logan’s actual input on this was enough to make Logan’s exhaustion addled brain falter for a second… or maybe it was a minute. He had told himself that he wouldn’t cry after the change he had gone through, that he would stop crying over the things that the others had said and done to make him feel the ways that he felt. But this.. this right here was enough to make him start blinking away tears, it was almost pathetic. He had managed to act so tough and unfazed in front of the others, and yet at the slightest thing that Deceit had to say, he was practically a puddle of mush in his many arms.

“I…” Logan shifted in the bed throwing one his arms over the side of the bed, in turn tangling his fingers into one of Deceit’s hand as he held it tight. “I told him that if he hurt you, then I would make his existence pain. He said it would be nothing bad, but bad means different things to different people. What’s bad to us, might not be bad to Remus for instance. So if you talk with him…” Logan pursed his lips as he rubbed the side of his head against his pillow in order to stay awake for just a little while longer. “Just be careful.” He mumbled, feeling those fingers once again sink back into his hair as they worked their magic, making him relax more and more until it was pretty much impossible for him to even think about keeping his eyes open at this point.

“You need sleep my dear,” Deceit murmured, as he stood leaning over the bed in order to press a single soft kiss against Logan’s temple. “So sleep.” He whispered, watching as Logan’s breathing finally evened out, and his eyelids finally stayed shut this time.

He was finally asleep.

He should have known that it would be too soon for Logan to go and talk to them, it was a miracle that he had lasted as long as he did without passing out in the light commons and being completely at their mercy. It had taken him years of knowing precisely when to get out of there to know when his body could and couldn’t take being there for much longer, the split between the so-called “good” and “bad” wasn’t exactly forgiving of the dark trying to come into the light. Remus had slept a full week away after appearing to Thomas and just being in that one video alone, but sleep was the easy part, it’s what came after that was always so difficult for all of them.

Nevertheless, Deceit fitted himself with his caplet and hat, slipping on his yellow boots as he fastened every clasp before slipping on his gloves as well. Standing before the door he offered the sleeping side one last longing look, a part of him wanted nothing more than to just curl up and sleep alongside him. To forget everything about talking with someone who had decided early on he was just evil and that was it, he wanted to curl around Logan and just relax. But… he couldn’t, they both knew that he couldn’t, the sheer temptation of meeting Patton and hearing what he had to say would always be too much for him.

He did so love to pop up on them.

“I’ll see you soon dearest.”

And just like that he was gone, leaving the empty bedroom behind as he rose up in the light commons. Already he could feel a wary kind of exhaustion hitting him as soon as he dared to step foot into their domain, now all that was left was to… make himself know. Scouring his gaze around, Deceit took in the sight of everyone who was there, those who were old and… new? His head tilted slightly at the sight of the new logic fiddling with a blue hunk of plastic as he regarded the board game before him, obviously being newly formed he had no idea about how to play the game or even the rules of said game.

“Well well well,” He smoothly crooned, stepping out of the doorway instantly attracting attention to himself. “The new Logic in the flesh, eh?” He smirked playfully back at the innocent and most certainly curious gaze that looked back at him, a gaze that had never been told to hate what was in the dark sides of the mind… someone new. “Nice shirt kid, but… you’re missing something.” He teased before popping his hat off his head, before plopping it right on top of the curly wild locks of the new logic. The outright delighted look on the other side’s face, well… it made a genuine smile break free on his lips and something akin to happiness bubble in his stomach.

How long had it exactly been since a new side had looked at him and hadn’t run screaming?

“See?” He grinned, “Perfect fit.”

“Deceit!” Patton hastily stood, the fake money that he had been holding onto falling like a wave of ashen leaves down to his feet. The dishonest side had to take a step back at the overtly relieved look that spread on the moral side’s face, because… for as long as he had existed, Patton had never… NEVER looked at him like that before. “I’m so glad that you actually came.” Patton breathed out, before motioning towards the hallway. “I… need to talk to you.”

That he did, because honestly… Patton had a lot of explaining to do.

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not-safeforsanders · 5 years

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Would you be able to write some Sleepxiety?! Maybe Virge riding Remy? With gentle Remy and touch starved Virgil??

I most certainly can Im love Remy ships.

Warnings: nsfw (18+ ONLY)

When Remy walked into the room he had to almost drag himself inside, the curtains were drawn and there was a creeping blackness that didn’t seem to be just shadows as he looks into the usually brighter room. “V?” He asks gently, switching on the light “Thomas sent me, he said you were keeping him…up,” His words fall short as he looks around the room and curses softly under his breath. “Jesus Christ V, what have you been doing to yourself?”

The lump under the bedsheets move and Virgil’s tuft of sleep-mussed violet hair appears with black-ringed eyes. “Remy?” The sleep facet sighs and sits down on the bed, running a hand through his friends hair comfortingly, immediately Virgil seems to lean into the touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“Virgil how long have you been in here alone?” Remy asks, half dreading the answer, Virgil keeps his mouth shut. “Come on coffee bean, it’s only me, I don’t bite,” Virgil relaxes at the little nickname Remy had given him, shuffling out of the covers to lean against him, his body tense.

“A few days I think,” Remy makes a noise at the back of his throat that sounds to be anything but happy, wrapping his arm around Virgil in attempt to hug him. Virgil sighs heavily and completely melts at the touch, his head resting against Remy’s neck.

“Have you eaten? Drank anything?” Virgil shakes his head. “Virgil just because you don’t have to eat and drink it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t,” Rely sighs and moves to go and grab some food. But he’s stopped in his tracks by the high-pitched whine that escapes Virgil on instinct, the anxious side’s hands gripping his jacket. Remy blinks a second trying to figure out what he needs. Experimentally, he wraps his arms back around Virgil and the other man burrows into the touch, burying his face in Remy’s neck.

He’s touch-starved, Remy thinks to himself, oh bean what are you doing to yourself?

Nonetheless Virgil needs him. He wracks his brain trying to remember how to help people with touch starvation (Where’s Logan when you need him?) and sighs. “Sit on my lap,” He orders gently, and Virgil obeys immediately. He wraps his arms around the anxious side’s waist, feeling the weight of the other’s thighs on either side of his own.

Remy’s hands slip under the back of Virgil’s sweater, tracing circles gently against his spine. Virgil shifts for a moment before sighing happily, practically boneless in the other man’s lap. “Is this okay?” Remy asks softly.

“Yeah,” Virgil utters softly, voice sounding rough “Thank you,” Remy continues to draw circles against his bare skin as Virgil moves as close as he can. “Can I…touch you? Your skin…it…helps?”

“Of course, whatever you need,” Virgil helps Remy out of his leather jacket before his hands slip under the other man’s black shirt, fingertips tracing lines along his sides. Remy shivers a little at the cold touch, his nails grazing lightly against Virgil’s skin in reaction.

Virgil makes a soft noise at that; curious, Remy does it again, running his nails lightly to hear the soft noise which is a little louder this time. It takes the sleep side a moment to understand, digging his nails in a little harder in assumption that the noise was a pleasant one, but the third time Virgil’s hips jolt slightly and Remy’s eyes widen. “Shit, sorry,” Virgil smiles against his skin.

“It’s fine, you can keep doing it if you want, it feels nice,” So Remy does, running his nails over the skin of the other’s back, before he moves one hand around the front, down his chest to his stomach. Virgil moans at this, throaty and breathless.

“Are you sure?”

“Having someone as close to me as possible sounds like a dream come true right now,” Virgil whispers “My skin feels like it’s on fire,” Remy presses a kiss to his neck in response, hoping to ease Virgil’s frustrations.

“I’ve got you V, it’s okay,” And Virgil believes him, his skin feeling soothed wherever Remy touches, the ache in his muscles unwinding as those fingers explore his body. Virgil continues making soft noises, his face buried in the crook of Remy’s neck, breath hot against the other’s skin as his cock twitches in response to the gentle caresses.

“Please, Rem…need you,”

“What do you need darling?” Remy’s voice is softer than usual, calmer than usual, despite the fact his heart is thundering in his chest. “I’ll give you anything you need,” Virgil tries to articulate what he wants but just finds himself getting frustrated and flustered, his cheeks hot as he whines in embarrassment. “It’s okay my little coffee bean,” Remy moves so that he can tilt Virgil’s face to look at him “I just need to know what you want, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it,”

“Can you…uh…please…” He clears his throat as mumbles “Fuck me, please?” Remy’s cock stiffens just a little at the words, swallowing dryly as he nods. “I just really need someone close right now, I need a…distraction and I trust you,” Remy smiles at him before pressing their lips together in a soft kiss. Virgil whimpers against his lips, parting them for the other as their tongues brush together.

Virgil pulls away only to open the bedside cabinet and toss a bottle of lube next to them. Remy helps him out of his clothes, brushing his fingers and knuckles against Virgil’s skin as he tugs off his sweater and then his jeans. The other seems eager for as much of his touch as possible and Remy finds him too adorable to not acquiesce.

When they finally finish undressing, clothes strewn unceremoniously around, Virgil has resumed his position in Remy’s lap as the sleep facet lubes up his cock. The benefits of not being entirely Human is prep isn’t quite warranted and is still painless. Although Virgil has to focus as he lowers himself onto the head of Remy’s thick cock, head falling forward to rest against his partner’s.

“Ah- f-fuck Rem,” Virgil gasps out lowly, eyes fluttering shut as he feels the other man fill him wonderfully. He feels so good. Virgil almost immediately rocks his hips, cock jolting as the head presses in all the right places, and hs wraps his arms around Remy’s neck, burying his face against his jaw where he leaves little kisses and nibbles. Virgil can feel all of Remy, his body pressed against his own, cock pressed inside of him; his hand comes to wrap around the anxious side’s cock, stroking in time to the little thrusts of his hips.

The annoying buzzing sensation under Virgil’s skin starts to cease, the cloudiness in his mind altering for a lustful haze, gentle and desperate moans on the tip of his tongue as he whimpers for more. Remy thrusts up into Virgil to meet every roll of the younger’s hips, listening to the wonderful noises on Virgil’s lips as they’re peppered in with hushed groans of Remy’s own name.

Virgil moans against his ear, bucking into the touch whilst still desperate to have the other fuck into him. His muscles shake under the weight of effort and his nails dig into his friend’s skin wherever he can touch. “R-Rem…fuck…I-I’m not gonna last,”

“That’s okay, cum for me darling,” Remy whispers and Virgil leans back to kiss his partner firmly, gasping and moaning against his lips as his hips stutter, lips parting as he climaxes with a guttural growl of Remy’s name.

Virgil stills then, panting but with a lazy smile on his lips “Thank you,” He muttered “That really helped,”

Remy smiles and exchanges a quick kiss to the younger’s lips. Virgil shifts his hips a little, rocking back despite how sensitive he feels, eager to please his friend who stammers out a ‘you don’t have too,’ but he can’t quite help leaning back as he feels his body knot with arousal, his head tilting back. After a few moments he feels his orgasm build, tightening in his abdomen until he moans out Virgil’s name, eyes falling shut from the pleasure. Remy spills inside the other, a feeling that causes Virgil to shiver, before they both fall back onto the bed, tired and spent.

Virgil waves a lazy hand and the mess is cleaned up “Cuddles?” He asks softly, unsure and a little shy.

“I’d love nothing more,” Remy grins, as they both drag themselves under the covers and snuggle up to each other; Virgil’s head resting on the elder’s chest, eyes closed and soon they fall asleep.

–

ko-fi

#Anonymous #not safe for sanders #ask

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recipeforme · 3 years

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C8: A Friend To Carry You

Book: A Good Kid

I sat drawing on a bench near the school waiting for it to start when I heard someone yelling.

“Virgil!” Looking up I didn’t see anyone so I looked back down at my sketch book “Virgil Storm!” The voice said again. Looking around I finally saw who it was, my mouth fell open.

“Remy?” I said, standing up I quickly made my way over to my dark haired, leather jacket wearing, coffee loving friend.

“Who else did you expect? I’m the only sexy one here” Remy lowered his sunglasses and smirked at me.

“Wha.. What are you doing here?” I stuttered out.

“My dad’s on a business trip or whatever and he brought me along.” Remy explained “he’s in meetings now so I’m off to get Starbucks and wander.”

“Trying to pick up hot dudes?” I asked laughing.

“Oh you know it.” Remy chuckled “and it looks like I found one.” He lowered his sunglasses and gave me a wink. I laughed akwardly and ducked my head. My face growing warm.

“So what are you doing here?” Remy asked me.

“Oh um... “ I rubbed the back of my neck “foster care and all that…”

Remy noded “got ya.” Bending down I scooped up my sketchbook and slipped it back into my bag. Suddenly an idea popped into my head.

“Hey Rem?”

“Yes Virge?”

“Are you doing anything today?” I asked.

“No.”

“Great.” I grinned, ignoring the sound of the bell ringing “let's catch up on old times.”

-----

I walked into the office of Virgil’s English teacher, Mrs Rollins and she stood up and held out a hand as I entered the room. “Hello, Mr Sanders.”

I took her hand and shook it “Mrs Rollins, you’re Patton and Virgil’s teacher. You can call me Thomas.”

“Alright then, Thomas, please take a seat.” After we sat down she said “Now I’m sure you're wondering why I called you here.”

“Yeah I was.”

“Well, I called you here to talk to you about Virgil’s grades.” She said “you see.... He’s failing English.”

“What do you mean? In what areas?” I asked.

“Virgil doesn’t turn in his homework” she explained “and when he does it is always incomplete.” She then handed me a folder which was full of Virgil’s homework assignments and I looked over them. Shocked to see that she was right. “I talked with some of the other teachers and outside of his art course he’s been giving the same performance in every class.”

“I don’t understand…” I said, confused “I check up on him when he gets home and he’s usually working on homework.”

“Well, perhaps he’s only working on art. After all that is the only class Virgil’s doing well in.” Mrs Rollins explained.

“Do you know why he’s acting like this?” I asked.

“Well” she said slowly “I do have one theory.”

“Which is?”

“Virgil is a foster child, correct?”

“Yes,” I said, surprised by the question “why do you ask?”

“Well, from my experience kids like Virgil have trouble focusing in school until they feel like their current home situation is more perdament.” Mrs Rollins said “how is Virgil doing?”

“Well,” I paused “he’s had a few bumps here and there but that’s to be expected. To be honest he’s been pretty closed off since he’s arrived.”

“Sometimes children in the system will hide their true selves in order to keep themselves from being hurt.”

“Well maybe instead of talking about Virgil we can talk with him?” I suggested.

“Good idea,” Mrs Rollins said “I’ll have the office call him down.”

Mrs Rollins left and while I waited I couldn’t help but think about what she had said. Was Virgil really afraid of getting hurt? I didn’t want to hurt him…. But I had no idea what the future held.

“Right,” I looked up as Mrs Rollins came back in, looking worried, “so Virgil didn’t show up for class.”

--------

I looked over at Virgil as we walked along, he hasn’t changed since I’ve last seen him. He wasn’t as thin as he used to be (but not by much) and it looked like he had gotten some new clothes recently. Other than that he was still the same awkward and scared kid I met back in grade school.

The two of us passed a thrift store and I gasped dramatically and grabbed Virgil’s arm, “Vrige, look” I said pointing at the store.

“A thrift store?” Virgil questioned and I gasped again.

“Gurl, please tell me that a year of being separated from me hasn’t made you forget of what we do in places like this.” I said dragging him through the door of the store.

A slow smile spread across my emo friend’s lips “you mean trying on crazy outfits?”

I grinded “and not buying any of them” I added. The woman at the counter gave a look.

“But today might be the day….” Virgil told her. She raised an eyebrow before going back to her phone. And the two of us started looking through the clothes

“I really missed you.” Virgil said.

“Then, where did you go?” I asked “like, gurl, you went all ghost on me.”

“I’m sorry, Rem” Virgil said “when I got put into the system I just wanted to disappear for a while.” He looked down and began to sort through the rakes quietly.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled softly “hey, Virge, its okay. I understand.” I then smirked and walked over and picked up a flower print vest “what I don’t understand is how this was ever a thing.” He laughed and I grabbed a few hangers “let's try on some cray cray outfits.”

Virgil grabbed a bunch of hangers as well “and never buy any of them.”

The two of us hurried off to the dressing room. It was good to see Virgil again.

#A GOOD KID #isabel's books #foster care #foster family #remy sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #sander sides #sander sides au #adoption

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the-only-straight-fander · 5 years

Text

Sweetest Desire

Pairing: Remy Sanders x Emile Sanders

Mentioned: Roman Sanders x Virgil Sanders and Patton Sanders x Logan Sanders

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, arguing

Original author: @petrichor-passions

Remy had never planned on becoming involved with the mob. When he opened Verdant, he never really expected to draw that sort of crowd. But, as the years passed, it became normal. His business typically acted as a safe spot for members to have a drink and listen to some good music. As more time passed, he became more involved. He had done some not good things. But, he was on the good side and even considered a good friend of “The Devil” — Logan Decker.

He had hired Virgil, his cousin, a few months after opening. He had no idea what that decision would mean for him in the future.

—

“Dr. Picani, you really should stop by the bar sometime,” Virgil suggested as they finished his session. “I mean, even counselors go out for drinks, right?”

“First, Virgil, how many times have I told you to call me Emile? Second, I might take you up on that offer soon.”

Virgil gave a small smile as he departed from the office.

Emile had made this city his home soon after earning a doctorate in psychology. Ever since then, he’s had a small office right by the “bad side of town.” However, he hated that term. People were people. No matter where they came from. He saw people and couples from all walks of life. His only goal was to help people.

—

Remy had seen many things when it came to his bar. Shootouts? Sure. Passionate make out sessions? Of course. A man wearing a cardigan, drinking a water and treating this spot like your average social gathering place? That’s a new one.

He slid behind the bar and over to his cousin, who was talking to the mystery man.

“Oh, hey, Remy. This is my friend Dr. Emile Picani.” There was a notion of pride in his tone.

“Remy?! You’re Virgil’s boss cousin, right? Cousin boss?” He beamed a bright smile in the midst of all this noise. He extended his hand over the tabletop.

That smile stunned Remy’s closed off heart. How did he do that? He had known this Dr. Emile Picani for less than a minute. Why did he forget how to breathe for a split second?

He pulled himself from his thoughts and returned the gesture. “Remy, the cousin boss,” he ended with a smirk. “We don’t get a lot of doctors around here.”

“Well, I’m happy to be one of the first!”

Of course he was.

Virgil interrupted, “Emile, I can’t wait for you to see Patton perform. He’s amazing.”

—

Over the next couple of months, Emile became a more common customer. Virgil always made sure Remy knew of his arrival. Virgil, and nearly every regular of Verdant, saw the spark between the two.

It was always hard to watch this from the mob perspective. Everyone involved in the group had done it at one point or another. That’s why so many refused to admit to it. They had fallen for an “innocent.” One who had no connection to the mob.

These days, there were rumors even the Devil had fallen for one.

It most always ended in tragedy. Many settled for loneliness rather than heartbreak. They could have any member they wanted. But, it could never be that easy, could it?

Everyone had seen the change in Remy. He was softer around his new “friend.” No one dared to say anything though.

—

They hadn’t gone on any dates and they were far from “official.” But, Remy had taken to walking Emile home from work nearly every day. As it became more of a ritual, so did holding hands.

Remy was always rather quiet on these walks. He’d take in the sunset, the slight breeze, and finally, everything about Emile. His smile that seemed never faltering. How his hair moved in the breeze. The warmth of his hand. His voice. Oh his voice. The excitement that never left. He’d ramble about his day or Avatar or his favorite Disney movies and it would sound like music to Remy.

He couldn’t deny the color that rose in his cheeks anymore. His life wasn’t so beautifully mundane, except when he was with him. Maybe his feelings would have to be left unspoken forever but if it kept Emile safe, it was absolutely worth it.

Sometimes, when Remy felt comfortable enough, he’d let formalities slip away. An “Em” or, his favorite for the most endearing moments, “Pixie” would grace his lips. Emile always giggled when it happened.

At the end of one of their now regular walks, they reached Emile’s porch. Remy, despite the risks of both danger and rejection, couldn’t just look at his lips anymore.

Stupid. Idiotic. Dangerous.

Emile was talking about something, maybe a light going out in his office that he needed to get replaced. It was the only time Remy didn’t care. He couldn’t focus enough to care.

Emile has turned to unlock his door.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

When he didn’t get an answer, he turned back around. “Right, Rem?”

Remy was biting his lip.

“Are you ok, Remy?”

Remy’s eyes flickered to Emile’s lips. Without thinking, the words fell out of his mouth. “I love you.”

His counterpart gasped in response.

Shit.

He had messed up. It was too soon, he had taken things the wrong way. The risk meant nothing.

Then, Emile’s lips collided with his. Only for a few seconds but, Remy took in everything. The feeling, the warmth, the smell.

“I love you too, Remy,” he earned back in the form of a whisper.

~~~

They were a few days short of being together for a month (secretly, of course). Remy was planning to talk to Emile. Really. He wanted to give him an out. Emile didn’t have to risk everything and get involved with the mob just for Remy. But, it was so nice. To have something, more accurately, someone normal. So, he selfishly avoided the topic. Until it was too late.

This was the first time he’d ever seen Emile truly angry.

“Remy, what the hell?! Y’know the first time there was a shootout, a shootout,” he repeated for emphasis, “at your bar, I let it slide. I thought ‘it’s a bar on the bad side of town, it’s bound to happen once.’ but twice?!”

Remy interrupted him hesitantly, “Eleven,” he revealed with a sigh.

“WHAT?!”

“Em, I- What happened last night marks the eleventh time a shootout has happened at my bar.”

For the first time since they had met, Emile was speechless. He huffed out a laugh and an “unbelievable...” before turning to his desk.

“Pix-Em- Emile,” he stammered out as he reached for his boyfriend’s shoulder, the doctor flinched away. “Just, let me explain...”

Emile turned to face him again, there were tears brimming his eyes. Remy wanted to shoot himself for being the person who put them there.

He earned a gesture that signaled for him to continue.

“Listen, Emile, I wanted to tell you this for a long time, a really, really long time but, I was selfish and didn’t want to lose you. But, you deserve better-“

“Rem, quit stalling and just tell me.”

The coldness of Emile’s tone shocked Remy but, he knew he deserved it. “I-I’m in league with the mob.” At this point he had stopped looking at the other man. He moved his hand through his hair before continuing, “I have been since a few months after opening Verdant. I work with them and things... shootouts, happen. Bad things happen. That’s why I didn’t tell you, because if you knew, that would put you in danger. And- And I wanted you safe. Em, I’ve done bad things, for what I always pray are good reasons. But,” he bit his lip as he finished, “you deserve to decide if you want to be with me and I’m sorry for taking away your choice for so long.”

Their eyes met.

Remy could tell Emile was thinking of how to respond.

Emile looked away, looked down, then looked back at his boyfriend.

Here it comes.

“Remy, do you know why I do what I do?” the doctor asked in soft and patient tone.

Of course he did. They had talked about it on their third walk.

“To help people.”

“To help people,” he repeated before continuing, “Remy, nearly every patient I see has had their life impacted by the mob. And not in a good way! Innocent people pay the ultimate price for your actions every single day!”

Remy started to cower in shame, “Em, it’s not-“

The other man’s tone reverted to anger, “Are you seriously trying to defend yourself right now?! I know that life isn’t black and white, Rem, but, there is right and there is wrong! You or the mob can’t be the one who decides which is which!”

“We don’t!” Remy finally shouted back. “We don’t decide which is which. The mob is more than just a hoard of criminals. It’s a family! And, without the mob, this city would be hopeless!” He paused for a moment and made himself regain his composure, “We control crime, at least we try to. And, because of what we do, retaliation happens, hence the shootouts. Em,” They were both crying now, thin streams of tears ran down both their faces, “we try our hardest to save innocent lives. The mob wants peace and safety and love... just like everybody else.”

They both looked at their feet.

Emile wipes his tears away before speaking up, his voice was rough from the yelling and crying, “Rem, I love you, but, I need some time — Some time to figure things out and wrap my head around this.”

“Ok,” Remy returned softly before leaving the office.

~~~

Remy sighed as he looked down at himself. He was wearing a plain white

t-shirt and black jeans. The mundane ensemble was brought together by his leather jacket.

Emile always loved when he wore it. Hence the sigh.

It had been nearly three weeks since... everything. He wanted so badly to see his smile again, hear his laugh, hold his hand. But, he couldn’t decide when Emile was ready. Maybe this was the punishment for his selfishness.

He was stirred from his thoughts by Virgil knocking on his office door. His cousin was always sure to be at least ten minutes early to his shift.

“Hey, Virge, what do you need?”

“Um, I don’t know how to say this so I’m just gonna say it, Emile just texted me. He’s gonna be here any minute.”

Shit.

Remy scrambled out of his chair and down the stairs.

Virgil couldn’t help but snicker.

“Shut up!”

“How can I? It’s been three weeks and he’s still got you perfectly wrapped around his finger.”

As they reached the bottom of the staircase and headed towards the main room, Remy gave him a fierce look.

Virgil jokingly put his hands up in surrender, “Not that I’m judging. It’s just... cute.”

Remy rolled his eyes as he entered through the back of the bar. He spotted Emile almost instantly.

He was wearing Remy’s favorite tie and cardigan pairing as he walked through the front door.

Emile made his way through the crowd and landed at the bar after about two minutes.

“Hi, Virgil!”

There was that smile again. In that moment, Remy didn’t care that it wasn’t directed at him. It was just so nice to see it, him, again.

“Hi, Emile, I’m guessing you two need a minute?”

The latter mentioned gave Virgil a smile knowing smile.

Then, everything was a blur. Shots rang out through the building. People had started screaming. There was a yelling of orders.

Remy had jumped over the bar and grabbed Emile. “Stay here with Virgil!”

The two proceeded to sit down behind the bar.

Remy ran straight (ha) into the action. He pulled a gun out of his top jacket pocket. Firing strategically, the chaos finished in a few minutes.

He took a sigh of relief. He made eye contact with Logan, who gave him a nod. It was over.

At least, he thought it was.

He made it over to the bar with a little smirk on his face. He had hope that the night would end with him walking Emile home. That hope, however, was crushed when a heartbreaking scene greeted his eyes.

Virgil had just ended a call and Emile was slumped against the wall of the bar, blood seemingly pouring out of his abdomen.

How could he not have noticed?

He all but fell to Emile’s side. Virgil then left, Remy would find out later it was to be able to lead the ambulance crew to Emile.

He put his hand on his boyfriend’s wound. The panic and intensity of the situation set in.

A soft grunt of pain came from Emile’s lips.

“Hey, Pixie, you just look at me and you’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

Shallow, quick breaths were the response he was given. The look in Emile’s eyes shattered his cold heart into a million pieces.

He moved his free hand through the doctor’s hair. Tears fell freely. "I’m right here, Em. You just gotta stay right here, with me. Ok?”

“‘m s...,” Emile breathed out. If you weren’t right next to him, you wouldn’t tell he had even made a noise.

“Don’t-Don’t you dare apologize, baby. You just need to stay awake.”

Emile slowly moved his hand to cover Remy’s. "R’m...”

“I love you, too, Em. Just hold on, please, Pixie, please...”

Remy heard the ambulance team enter through the door.

—

The Devil wasn’t one for hospitals. The mob and the hospital didn’t exactly mix. But, Logan Decker wasn’t here for himself. He was here for one of his very few close friends.

Dr. Emile Picani was currently in surgery. No one knew if he was going to survive or not. But, Logan, his bodyguard, Virgil, and a dozen other mobsters, waited alongside Remy for the answer.

Remy was sitting alone in the corner of the waiting room, blood still covering his hands. Logan approached him and took the seat next to him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Remy, what do you desire?”

Both of them knew exactly what he was asking.

“I want them all dead.”

Logan nodded and gestured to a couple of his men. He stood, placed a hand on Remy’s shoulder sympathetically and took his leave.

He had a mission to finish.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders side fic #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #remy sleep #emile sanders #remy x emile #mob au

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nxjusticehere · 5 years

Text

Escape the Motherloving Nightmare - Part 9

Tag list: @undocumented-terriaki @risiskifi @virge-of-death @legit-humantm @shay-untitled @uraeus56 @supersepticsteph @margarita-is-the-answer @derisiveharridan @brookeisanerd @reeeeeaaper @aquilacalvitium @bokunobandicoot @authordrive @squishy-anon

Let Me Know if you want adding to the tag list

The Detective pulls the note from the box he’s just unlocked, holding it aloft as he reads it.

‘Kill yourself or kill your friend, you decide how this one ends.’

Beneath the paper confetti, a bright pink loaded revolver sits, waiting. No frills, no flair. Just a gun, and a choice.

As he pulls it from the box, all about him is chaos, loud noises, streamers, confetti, confusion, weirdness and mess that he honestly can’t keep up with. This place is a nightmare and the worst part of it is his brother, Lucas, on the other side of the arena, still pawing through boxes. The Madman hasn’t noticed the gun and doesn’t seem to hear someone outside of the game screaming for Dirk to just shoot him already.

And he should, after all how much of his brother is left in there? Sharp taloned fingers, both arms, both eyes, his hair, nearly every visible part of him is this slick shiny black. All that remains is the majority of the left side of his face. Dirk raises the revolver, squaring it up to shoot at Lucas’s chest.

It would almost be a mercy wouldn’t it? Releasing his brother from the sickness that’s consuming him? I mean he looks like a monster, and it’s taken a while, but now Dirk sees that unmistakable sheen to the blackness that covers him. The kind of sheen you only really see on ink…. Lucas is sick, and Dirk knows where it came from.

Still, seconds tick by, and he just can’t squeeze the trigger.

Lucas has noticed by now, tossing his own key aside and raising his arms to his sides in a show of surrender, though the scowl on his face never leaves. He’s probably figured out what’s going on.

“Come on then!”

This game started with how many people? Twenty? Thirty? He can’t remember any more, the night dragging on forever, the pain and the loss all blurring together in an unending stream of hurt and suffering. His sanity has only survived this long by simply washing his hands of what’s happened. He’s not the one who’s killed these people. It’s the game! It’s the monsters! They’re the one who put them in here! It’s all their fault! Not his!

Except….

How hard has he fought to try and keep people alive? How many people did he allow to walk to their possible deaths knowing one of them won’t come back? Dirk has had so many chances, so many chances, to stop this, or at least to try, and he never has. Not once. The only difference is this time, they’ve literally put the trigger in his hand.

“COWARD!”

Dirk’s aim wavers. Can he do this? Can he actually shoot and kill someone? Does life really mean so little to him? ….No. Someone has to draw the line. Someone has to say ‘Enough is enough’ and at this point, he’s the only one who can. He lowers the gun, closing his eyes as he lets out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

“What are you doing?”

“I won’t do this.” He tosses the gun aside. It clatters to the floor and lays there. He won’t use it. “I won’t be a part of this sick game any more.”

Lucas points a clawed finger across at him, anger peeling off him as he shouts, “You know killing me is the right choice!”

Dirk shakes his head. “I don’t know that.”

“They’ll kill you if you don’t!”

If Dirk didn’t know any better, he might think his brother sounded desperate, but even so, the Detective shrugs, “Then I guess it’s my turn to die.”

Lucas screams, a loud human, gutteral scream of frustration. He’s supposed to be smart! This is the only option! The game makers aren’t going to let them create a third one! If they don’t play by the rules, then Dirk is going to die and, with Liza’s screams echoing in his head, Lucas refuses to let that happen.

“Then I have one thing to say...” The two of them stare at each other across the chaos, Dirk determined, Lucas angry. This is not going to end well. “Activate Protocol 12.”

“….what?”

Lucas launches himself across the arena, Dirk barely having time to react. They collide with a horrid thud, falling to the ground. Talons slash, over and over, cutting and tearing at the Detective’s leather jacket. His cries are more from shock than actual pain. When the flailing stops, Lucas has the upper hand, pinning his brother to the floor, one hand around Dirk’s neck, the Detective’s fingers trying to hold them from just breaking his neck. Everyone watches with bated breath as a clawed hand raises, priming to strike, to tear out the Detective’s stomach when-

BANG

Lucas drops, a dead weight on top of the Detective. The grip on his neck loosens and Dirk turns to see Lucas’s droid inside the arena, the discarded gun in his hands, smoking barrel pointed at the two of them.

“What are you-?”

BANG

The weight on top of him shakes with each impact and Dirk flinches, amazed that none of the bullets hit him but still staring in shock, completely at a loss.

Gun still raised, the droid strides over, using its foot to kick the slumped form off the Detective, keeping the weapon trained on him as it bends down and drags Dirk to his feet.

Dirk grips at the hand on his shoulder, feet scrabbling as he stands, stepping back, mind gripped by shock as he stares at the body on the floor. Lucas doesn’t move. He doesn’t shift or shake, doesn’t breathe or even twitch. He’s dead.

“You killed him.”

“Trust me,” the droid turns him around so Dirk can’t see any more, hand still gripping tightly. It doesn’t trust the boy to stay back from the ‘body’, so it will hold on until they leave this place in the dust, and the sooner the better, “he’s not dead.”

“Not dead? You shot him!” Dirk tries to pry the droid’s fingers from his jacket but it’s pointless, and they continue to leave the arena.

“Well you weren’t going to.” The droid’s voice sounds smoother than Dirk remembers, more human. There is definite snark in there that wasn’t there before, and that scowl has to be something it learned from Lucas because to this point, it’s done nothing but smile.

Calliope says something before they leave but Dirk doesn’t listen,. He knows what happened and at this point he doesn’t care. He was trying to do good, to do the right thing and it still went sideways. Now there’s this dull ache in his stomach, just beneath the slowly amassing pile of survivor’s guilt, and he doesn’t see an end to this horrible nnight..

#Madpat #Dirk Patrick #Léo: robo!MatPat #escape the night #Escape the Motherloving Nightmare #fanfic #Dirk the Detective #tw death

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