#janus could push me down the stairs and i’d thank him

[fakeloveaskblog]

(Hi, me again. I am here and open to questions from the characters. Most of the ones asked I have no clue about but I will try my best. Also I just took my melatonin so sorry for any grammatical errors.)

Hello folks it’s me. All the way from The Void where all ghosts, demons and strangely dapper snails come from to answer your questions to the best of my ability.

First up “Can we Watchers kill someone? Or would we even want to?” I’m not sure about the others but for me personally I have never attempted to take someone’s life. Hell, the worst thing I’d do to someone is create mild inconveniences. So I’m not sure if we are unable to or if it’s just a personal choice. Not very helpful I know but it’s all I got.

Secondly “Can we possess people?” This I can provide more information on. Some Void creatures can and some can’t and even those who have the ability to possess people have to practice it in order to be good at it, just like any other skill. For me personally I do technically have the ability to possess people but I don’t use it much so I’m not very good at it. I’m not sure about the other so once again if you want to know you’ll have to ask them.

Lastly you asked “Can we possess inanimate objects such as a sword or a plushy?” This ties into the last question as possessing inanimate objects is just an easier version of possess a person or animal due to the lack of consciousness.

Also Logan for our anatomy I’m afraid that it doesn’t make logical sense, I mean I’m a small, floating, partially transparent, non corporeal ghost with eyes that change colour depending on my mood. I make about as much sense as a flying pig. (For you of course, I actually know a flying pig and she is just the sweetest thing you will ever meet.) Also I don’t have a heart in the way you humans have one, mines only metaphorical so sorry about that. Now that’s all the questions answered feel free to ask more, or not, I don’t mind.

Glow Eyes

(Me 🤝 You Writing asks immediately after taking our melatonin)

One of the candles on the table lit up into a flame. The flame turned bigger than it physically should be and rounder than any flame they'd ever seen. The flame started to float above the candle and your two glowing eyes blinked open. The flame calmed down and became your translucent body.

The twins ooeh at your entrance. The demon snail was still sitting on the table. You took turns saying both of your messages only stopping to exchange void nods in agreement.

"We ARE adorable!! So true!!" Patty exclaimed.

Logan took out his notebook again and scribbled down a few notes while nodding "Very informative, very interesting"

"A-HAh!!! Void creature murder is still on the table!!!" Remus cheered before trying to high five you but it ended up with him just patting your big shell "oHOHOH Demon Snail Assassin!!"

After hearing your thoughts on possession Janus snarked out "My new conspiracy theory is that cgi is a made up myth and all special effects in hollywood movies are just ghosts possessing things. I will not let anyone tell me otherwise"

"You have a point. Ghosts might not be able to unionise so having ghost posses things would probably be cheaper than using cgi" Logan added.

Patty rubbed chin while thinking "I think ghosts would be able to unionise. They can speak to each other! I am for ghost's right to unionise!"

Rowan, the only person here who actually knew things about hollywood, squinted and said "Cgi people aren't even unionised. Why would they need ghosts"

"Please Snail, Do tell me about the results of your investigations on possession once you've tested them" Janus said. "It sounds very intriguing" They blinked innocently "Especially if you posses someone to make them push themselfs off the stairs"

"For science" Their boyfriend added which made them smile.

"Yes for science obviously"

Patty shone up into a grin as you gave her a ghost snail hug "Aww thanks sweetie pie!"

Rowan put a napkin on her hand so she could pat your snail eye without getting goo on her nails "So if void creatures have specialities do you two ghost-bros have anything? Obviously Glowy has a skill for color matching, lovely pink eyes today by the way. But aside from that are you like a super expert on slamming doors or something?"

"Maybe their special void abilities are being great listeners!" Patty suggested sweetly.

"Or it's making assholes piss themself!" Remus suggested just as sweetly.

"That can be your questions. Your abilities please and thank you if you have any"

Logan was literally scratching his head about your answers to the anatomy question "Your flying pig friend sounds lovely and I do agree on your metaphorical heart but I can not accept that your anatomy would be illogical. Even if you do not have a biological heart there must be some explanation for how a ghost's body works even if neither you or I can figure it out this very moment"

He happily accepted your transparent snail heart in his hands. Rowan wrinkled her nose from disgust at the same time as Remus nearly trampled over Janus to get a closer look on the gooey heart.

"Thank you for trusting me with your heart. I give you my greatest promise to take careful care of it. I will leave it on my bedside table tomorrow morning so you can come and pick it up again"

He put the heart in his inner pocket before turning to Janus and simply stating.

"You are not going to get the required hours of sleep tonight, much less than so. We have a long night of experiments for science ahead of us. Alright?"

Janus kissed him "That sounds lovely darling"

#glow eyes #🐌🕸 #possessing orange sounds so fun dfhkjfh #thanks for the asks!! #sanders sides #loceit #janus sanders

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Healing

Prompts: So I’ve recently binged all your SS fics practically and I know you SWAMPED in prompts, but if this sounds like something you could enjoy creating I’d love to request a promt as well:

Set in your SS Butterfly Project, could we maybe get Virgil reacting to all the sides (specifically L and Ro) learning to heal, and bouncing between helping sooth everyone’s anxiety over all the changes? I’d just love under appreciated Virgil helping in the moments in between the healing process if that makes any sense…

I appreciate the he*l out of you regardless if you take this prompt or not; and you deserve all the kindness the world has to offer you. ❤️ - mylgbtbabies

I would take any fic where somethigns off and virgil knows it. Someone: Im sure its fine!! Virgil: Idk man Im anxiety my spooder sense be tingly. - anon

If you're taking requests for Sanders Sides uwu can I ask for something Virgil-centric? I just love the emo boy - anon

ahh yes the babes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: ngl this one's pretty much fluff

Pairings: DLAMP, LAMP, DLAMPR, that found family

Word Count: 3538

Healing: To restore to health or soundness; cure.

Healing: To ease or relieve (emotional distress).

* * *

Healing isn’t a linear process.

It’s messy, it’s hard, and no one should expect it to be anything otherwise. Humans are complicated, more often than not brains are absolute garbage, and trying to navigate everything on your own is difficult. Really difficult.

So is learning how to ask for help.

Virgil sighs and leans back against the couch as Roman continues to type on his laptop. He risks a glance up at Princey to see his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Every so often he’ll quirk his eyebrow in the way that means he just made a hilarious typo and has to go back. Virgil hides a smile as he turns his attention back to his phone. Can’t intrude too much on the process, that’s not how it works. He glances up to make sure no one’s coming down the stairs and shifts his weight again.

“Are you alright?”

There’s Roman, taking care of everyone else first. “I’m good, Princey, just trying not to fuck up my spine.”

“…do you want to come sit up here with me? I won’t mind.”

Virgil cranes his neck back, letting a slow and lazy smile come across his face. “Nah, ‘m good right here. You just make with the typey typey, okay?”

Roman smiles too, victory achieved. “Okay.”

“That’s my Princey.”

Virgil isn’t humble enough to not feel the little rush of pride at seeing a quick flush spread to Roman’s ears as he turns his attention back to his laptop. Suppressing a chuckle, he starts mindlessly scrolling again, getting sucked back into whatever’s contaminating his dash this time. What’s this about a k-drama…?

“Oh! There you are!”

Patton might not notice the way Roman startles, but Virgil does. He looks up and quickly shakes his head as Patton comes the rest of the way down the stairs.

“It’s work hours, Pat.”

“Oh, I thought—“ Virgil gives him a look that he knows Patton understands as Roman is setting the rules here, and he nods quickly— “well don’t mind me, I’m just getting a drink.”

Roman relaxes slightly as Patton bustles in and out of the kitchen, then a little more as Virgil reaches up to squeeze his hand.

“Thank you,” comes the quiet mumble.

“I gotcha, Princey. Work hours are your thing, I’m happy to help.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, when Logan comes down the stairs carrying his computer, he takes one look at them in the living room before his mouth drops open slightly.

“Is it…work hours?”

“Mhm,” Virgil says, letting his head loll back, “you wanna join?”

“May I? I can be quiet as well.”

Virgil looks up at Roman. Roman glances up, smile softening when he sees it’s Logan, and gently pats the sofa next to him. Logan smiles too and yeah, okay, Virgil’s fine with his edge lord image fading slightly if it means he gets to be fond at watching these two nerds be gentle with each other.

The two of them start to type on their laptops, Logan’s constant murmurs of what he’s working on an amusing contrast to Roman’s silent yet expressive face. Virgil keeps the barrier there, warding off Janus and Remus when they try and drag the others into the dramatics—if anyone, especially Janus, tries to deny that he’s as much a part of it as Remus is, do not under any circumstances believe them—to keep the nerds safe.

After a while, when Virgil re-emerges from whatever deep dive he’s gone on this time—and yeah, he might be looking to pirate that k-drama, maybe—he realizes there’s no more typing. He looks up, a little concerned, only to be incredibly glad no one else is around to see him melt at the sight on the couch.

Roman’s laptop lies partially closed on his lap, the screen just touching the tops of his knuckles. His head and shoulders are angled toward Logan and his eyes are closed. Logan’s glasses are slipping slightly off his face, his head on Roman’s shoulder, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as his hair falls back into his face. His laptop has been set on the coffee table, somewhere safe.

Virgil shakes his head, standing and carefully taking Roman’s laptop from him. He saves whatever’s on it and sets it next to Logan’s. Then he takes the blanket from the back of the couch and carefully drapes it over the two of them. He slides Logan’s glasses from his face and undoes the top button of Princey’s collar. Can’t do for them to have a red mark, after all. And he sits back down to keep watch.

Sometimes, when they’re doing better, they ask for more. Roman comes to him sometimes and asks, very very quietly, but he does ask, for Virgil to come sit with him by his room. Virgil happily takes up residence in the warm spot in the hallway next to Roman’s room, right where the big windows are, soaking in the warmth from outside as Roman closes the door gently behind himself.

Something that everyone had to learn pretty quick once Logan and Roman started reaching out was that both of them are extremely private people. On the surface, it might seem like they’re different—and if they’re being honest, they certainly thought they were very different—but they aren’t. Not really. Roman hides behind being too much, Logan hides behind not being anything. Whether or not anyone actually knows them without any of the facades is up for debate.

Except each other. They…they…know each other.

Virgil would be lying if he said he isn’t a little jealous of how close the two of them have become. There are soft smiles they only have for each other now, little brushes of their hands against each other’s as a constant way of saying ‘I’m here, I see you, are you alright?’ And sometimes it’s Virgil’s job to sit outside one of their rooms as they try and hold each other steady.

Their company feels better than their solitude and it’s up to them to decide where that line is.

Today, Virgil’s just keeping an eye on Roman. Fielding off anyone who comes to knock on his door, glaring away the more persistent ones who don’t seem to understand that Roman needs his space right now, kindly fuck off. Logan comes around the corner and immediately understands and he sees them murmur quietly to each other when it’s time for dinner.

When he watches Logan, it’s a little harder. Because poor Logan is so used to pushing himself to the side to be able to make decisions, to help do things, that Virgil has to remind everyone involved that no, Logan’s enforced a boundary that means he doesn’t want to be disturbed right now, he’s allowed to do that, let’s leave him be for now. Left brain boys have to stick together.

But the others, to a certain extent, are easy. They care about Roman and Logan as much as Virgil does, and if it’s to help them, they’ll do whatever they have to. Protecting them from themselves…that’s another story.

Logan is too fucking good at pretending he’s fine. He’s too good at pretending he doesn’t have emotions, that he doesn’t care what’s going on unless it’s the absolute most illogical thing that’s happening. So, sometimes he has to work a little harder to get Logan to admit it.

“L,” he mutters as the others continue to argue, “check-in.”

“I’m fine.”

Janus shoots him a look as he continues to argue. Virgil tugs gently on Logan’s sleeve.

“No one’s gonna be mad if you say you aren’t, bud.”

Logan shakes his head firmly, eyes still trained on the way Patton and Janus are insisting that they’re the one right.

“Hey,” Virgil says softly, making them take a step back, “I need you to look at me, L.”

“What is the purpose of this?”

“You’re seizing up again.” Logan looks down at his hands, sees the way they’re shaking as Virgil gently runs a finger over the back of one of them. “It’s okay, bud, you’re gonna be fine, you just have to let yourself not be for a moment, okay?”

Logan risks a glance at the others but they haven’t noticed anything. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Judging by the way Janus is being more dramatic than normal and Roman has turned so his back is facing them, they’ve noticed something’s wrong and are purposefully not noticing anything else.

“Logan,” Virgil calls, “do you need a minute?”

Logan’s mouth opens, closes, then he nods sharply.

“Okay, thank you, I’m really proud of you for saying that. Can I sink you out?”

Another sharp nod.

Virgil sets his hand gently on Logan’s elbow and sinks them out, right outside Logan’s room. He nods to the door.

“Do you need to be alone for a moment? Or do you need me with you?”

Logan looks at the door. His hands shake again. Virgil sees them twitch toward his legs. Then he looks at Virgil and oh, okay, no, Virgil’s definitely coming inside.

“Come on,” he says, guiding hand still on Logan’s shoulder, “just through here, okay? I’m gonna get you a glass of water.”

Logan looks small, Virgil decides he doesn’t like that. He presses a glass of water gently into Logan’s hands, watches as he drinks the whole thing without complaint, and then carefully sets one of Logan’s fluffier pillows into his lap for Logan to hang onto.

“Do you want to sit here for a moment?”

Logan nods, then buries his face in the pillow and breathes. Virgil closes his eyes and starts to breathe too, keeping it slow and steady as he breathes in, then out, then in, then out. When Logan’s breathing starts to hitch, he opens his eyes and scoots a little closer, wordlessly offering a shoulder. Logan takes it after a moment, his face still buried in the pillow even as his head comes to rest on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Let it out, bud,” Virgil murmurs into the crown of Logan’s head, “don’t try and keep any of that shit in you. It’s just me.”

Watching Logan cry isn’t fun. He doesn’t recommend it. But it’s much, much better than the alternative.

“Hey,” he calls again, a fresh glass of water in his hand, “drink, bud, it’ll help.”

Logan drinks, a little slower this time, as Virgil settles back on the bed, one leg folded under him.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to distract you?”

Logan shakes his head. “I…do not think distraction would be helpful.”

“Okay. Do you want me to give you the logical reason why this is fine, or the emotional one where I tell you how much we care?”

Logan sniffles.

“Both it is, then.” Virgil scoots closer, ready if Logan needs to lean against him again. “Despite the fact that your role is Logic, no one expects you to be entirely logical. You are a person, you have feelings and emotions, and they are as much a part of you as Logic is. Trying to deny that isn’t logical, nor productive. The reason you are who you are is equally due to both of those things.”

He softens his voice as Logan leans toward him again, smiling at how shamelessly Logan is asking to be comforted.

“And that’s why we care about you,” he mumbles, ignoring the heat rushing to his own face, “because you’re you. You’re…prissy and stuck-up and a know-it-all and it’s perfect, L. You’re our braincell and you’re fucking ours. You’re—you’re not going anywhere.”

Logan’s arms still grip the pillow tightly even as his head nudges its way under Virgil’s chin. Virgil smiles and lets him, only realizing he’s absentmindedly nuzzling Logan’s hair after a minute.

The others will be fine. Logan just needs a moment to check out.

Roman, on the other hand, fucking sucks at letting himself ask.

And yeah, Virgil’s not too proud to admit he still feels sick at how much he’s fucked that up for him. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and fix that now.

Princey’s gig as Creativity isn’t misplaced; Virgil’s equal parts impressed and dismayed at how well Roman’s managed to get himself what he needs without directly asking for it, be it a favor, a piece of feedback, or a conversation.

The one thing he can’t do that with is touch.

Roman needs physical contact like he needs water. He may run hotter than a goddamn furnace but he somehow manages to look cold. Watching him sit himself apart from everyone else hurts now, especially when Janus comes and confesses that he can hear how much Roman tries to insist that he doesn’t need affection from the others.

So, they built a system. Some with Roman’s knowledge, some without. Roman goes to them for comfort when he needs it, but sometimes, when he really needs it, it’s up to them to figure out just how much.

Remus knows his job when it comes to this. His brother is Roman and you don’t get to be a Dark Side without Janus as a dramatic caveat. He’s well-versed in blackmailing self-sacrificing idiots into taking care of themselves.

Remus finds Roman when Roman’s sitting alone, off to the side, staring out into the expanse of the Imagination. He sits down, brushes their shoulders together, and frowns when Roman apologizes and shifts further away.

That’s the first indication.

He suggests they go bother Patton, or sneak out to the field and practice cliff jumping. If Roman’s alright, he’ll roll his eyes and propose an alternative, or agree and they’ll scamper off. But instead, he smiles softly and says no thank-you, politely inviting Remus to stay if he likes, but he’d rather not move.

That’s the second indication.

The third one comes when Remus carefully—really carefully—prods at Roman to see how obvious Roman’s dazed state is. He’s barely there.

Time for reinforcements.

Who gets called depends on who’s around. Since Remus is usually the first one in the chain—although that responsibility does get bounced around—everyone else’s schedules make absolute consistency difficult.

Today, it’s Janus.

He sits on Roman’s other side, pressing their shoulders together. If he’s alright, he’ll lean into him, or at the very least, tolerate it. His presence is strong, enough to coax down his shields and that’ll be the end of it. But today, he scoots away from him too, another apology on his lips.

They exchange a look over Roman’s head.

No one banters quite like Remus and Janus, and sometimes that’s all it takes to pull him out of his head. Sometimes it’s an offer to go flounce around an abandoned castle, and there’s a small smile on his face as they leave.

Not today.

As a last resort, Janus reaches out and gently calls to him.

“My prince, are you alright?”

Sometimes it’s enough.

Not today.

“Alright,” Remus declares, getting up and clapping his hands, “time to pull out the big guns.”

Sometimes he’ll get up and walk with them, sometimes he won’t. He has carried him through the Mindscape before, but it was only once. And that was when he couldn’t actually move and they’d had a murmured conversation where he gave him permission to.

Today he gets up and follows them, confused as to what’s going on. They march him straight to a door and Remus knocks on it.

“Roman’s upset,” he says as soon as the door opens.

Virgil smiles and steps aside, letting him come in. Sometimes it’s a waiting game, sometimes Remus pushes him inside. But today, Roman bows his head and walks inside, letting Virgil close the door behind him.

Sometimes it’s a protest. Sometimes it’s a: ‘this really isn’t necessary,’ or a ‘do we have to do this?’ When that happens he indulges Roman, meets every quip with one of his own until he can knock Roman off-balance with well-placed sincerity and use his distraction to steer him to the bed.

Sometimes it’s an apology. It’s an: ‘I’m sure you’ve got other things to do, I can just go,’ and he shakes his head, tells Roman he’s more than happy to spend time with him. That no, he’s not being rude, that he all but asked for Roman to come. When that happens, he normally clams up, stays quiet, until he relents and gathers Roman up into a cuddle by the door.

Sometimes it’s silence. It’s a bowed head, curled up like a frightened animal, braced for punishment. It’s the moments where the gap between Light and Dark feels uncrossable. It’s the moments where the anger is disappointment, where the frustration is indifference, until he speaks first and murmurs that no, Roman’s not in trouble, he’s not here to lecture him, he’s hurt and he wants to help, as he takes Roman into his arms.

Every time it’s a fight.

It’s knowing that he can’t win because of course, he can’t win but this isn’t something he’s supposed to win but he can’t show weakness but he won’t have a choice because it’s the slow, patient kill that speaks of nothing but kindness and care but Virgil has enough to worry about and he doesn’t get to dump all of his problems on Virgil but he knows he wouldn’t do this if he didn’t care but he cares about everyone and Roman isn’t special but he knows that doesn’t matter and he needs this but it makes him want to rip all of his skin off and start over but then he’d get blood on his carpet and that wouldn’t be very polite either—

Virgil guides him to the couch with a hand on his back, sitting him down and bringing two cups of tea to the table. He cups Roman’s hand around one to gauge how warm it is and if his fingers grow too red, he sets it aside. He sits next to him and carefully reaches out.

Here she is, sitting right next to him, and yet he’s almost nowhere to be found.

He needs to relearn how to ask for comfort, for reassurance, for what he needs, but the wait hurts them both.

I’m trying, I’m trying, I promise, I’m sorry—

It’s alright, I’m right here, just ask, that’s all.

When he finally reaches out, Virgil snaps and bundles Roman into his arms. He tucks Roman up against his chest, letting him wind his arms as tightly as he needs to, guiding one leg, then the other, over his. Roman lets out a little whine as he tucks his face into the crook of his neck. He cards his fingers through Roman's hair and smiles as the poor prince melts into his arms.

The familiar protective instinct swells up and Virgil finds himself wanting very much to wrap him up in his hoodie and keep him safe from the universe.

He keeps his breathing even, hoping his heart doesn’t begin to race from the need to protect the Roman. This is for Roman, this is what he needs, to chase away the worries of the world and be safe.

Sometimes they fall asleep like that. Sometimes Roman needs to cry and he hushes him tenderly. Sometimes he seems convinced that if either of them lets go they’ll fly apart.

It doesn’t matter.

If he feels the safest with Virgil’s arms around him, his head on his chest, his heartbeat in his ear, the world could be on fire and he would not leave his side.

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#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #roman angst #logan sanders #logan angst #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #patton sanders

[frogsandcookies]

Cat Hoodies and Flirting

I bring you flirty Logan, flustered Patton, and dash of Patton angst. Accompanying this is a strange plot that takes a bunch of weird twists and platonic Prinxiety. 

___

Set after Moving On Parts 1 & 2

___

After doing his normal morning routine which consisted of washing his face, combing his hair, and changing into a suitable outfit for the day, Logan walked out of his room and down the stairs to the unusually quiet kitchen where Patton was sitting slumped over a bowl of cereal.

"I see the gift I got you fits well." Logan commented as he walked into the room, noticing Patton was wearing the cat hoodie the logical side had gifted him several days earlier. The sight of the moral side in the hoodie made Logan feel strangely proud; the look of joy on Patton's face when he had first gotten it a prize worth slaying an army for.

Patton looked up from his cereal bowl where a bunch of cheerios sat soggy in the milk, untouched. He gave a small smile, replying with,"Yeah, it's very fluffy and soft on the inside. And of course, a cat hoodie."

"I'm glad you like it." Logan said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Patton hummed in response, turning back to his cheerios which he was pushing around with a spoon in a disinterested and distracted manner.

Logan frowned, noticing Patton's lack of energy and pep. The moral side would have normally made several puns at this point and have lectured Logan about staying up until unholy hours of the night/technically morning.

He decided that his work could wait and joined Patton at the table, the latter looking up from his cereal once again.

"Don't you have work to do?" Patton asked, trying to conceal his dejected attitude with a happy facade.

"Yes but it can wait. Patton, I notice your usually bright demeanor is more forced today, is something wrong?" Logan questioned, a concerned expression making its way onto his face.

Patton forced a smile onto his face and said,"No, everything's okay!"

Logan sighed and placed his hand on Patton's, a gesture that shocked the latter. "Patton, I might not be Deceit--er Janus but I can tell that you're lying. What's wrong?"

"I...I have romantic feelings for someone." Patton said, letting his fake smile drop as he revealed the cause for his miserable attitude.

Logan steeled, his heart aching for some reason but he kept a neutral face as he asked,"What's the matter with that?"

"I don't this person feels the same way." Patton said. Logan frowned. Anyone who didn't requite Patton's feeling was an idiot, he thought.

"I wouldn't say they're an idiot." Patton said, causing Logan to flush. "Did I say that aloud?" He asked. Patton nodded, looking a bit amused.

"I just mean, you're so amazing and thoughtful so I don't see why anyone wouldn't return your feelings." Logan elaborated, looking confused as Patton blushed.

"I'm glad you hold me in such high regards." Patton said, still flushed. Logan smiled. "Of course I do, despite our disagreements and differences, you are among my best acquaintances."

"We've known each other for decades Lo, I'd call us friends as this point." Patton said, smiling. Logan felt another wave of unexplainable sadness wash over him at the word 'friends' but kept smiling despite that.

"That makes us sound so old." Logan commented. Patton laughed, his cheery demeanor beginning to return. "Well Thomas is 28." He said.

Logan nodded, looking at Patton and their intertwined hands. He though about the strange ache that kept coming whenever Patton mentioned his crush. This wasn't the only time his heart ached like that but the common link seemed to be Patton. For some reason, whenever he and the moral side interacted, he felt unexplainably nervous, his face often burned at compliments, and further symptoms of an unknown disease showed.

Patton smiled and said,"Thanks for cheering me up, Lo."

Logan snapped out of his stupor and looked back at Patton, giving a small smile before saying,"It was my pleasure Patton. ...If you don't mind me asking, who is this person who has earned your affections?" Patton blushed once again and he said,"I'd rather not say the name but I'll describe him."

Logan nodded and Patton began talking once again. "Well he's handsome. I know that we all have the same face but all of us have different aspects that differentiate us and his just make butterflies form in my stomach."

"That's concerning, you shouldn't have insects forming in your stomach as a result of your infatuation." Logan said, frowning. "It's just a saying, it just means he causes me to be a bit nervous." Patton explained kindly.

"Ah. Well, what else do you like about him?" Logan asked, pushing down the sadness once again.

"Some people see him as cold but that's because they haven't gotten to know him. When you get to know him, you get to see how passionate he is and his caring side." Patton said, a lovesick smile gracing his lips.

"Are you talking about Virgil?" Logan asked, trying to connect the clues to a side. "What? No, he's my best friend. I don't feel anything other than platonic love for him." Patton said.

"Oh." Logan said. "What made you think I was talking about Virgil?" Patton asked.

"The description sounded a bit like him but since you have denied this then I am once again confused." Logan replied.

"Oh. Well, here's another clue of sorts. He's smart and most definitely the wisest side of Thomas." Patton said, a lovesick face once again worming its way onto the moral side's face as he thought about the side.

Logan frowned. "Deceit?" He questioned.

"No." Patton said, snapping out of his daydream at the question. "Roman? Emile? Remy?" Logan said.

"No, no, and no." Patton responded, a vaguely nervous expression making its way onto his face.

Logan was both relieved and more confused at this answer. "There's no one left, unless you're referring to someone from the Imagination though that is doubtful considering how Roman always makes sure to lock his door."

"There's one person left." Patton said softly, pulling his hand back. Logan thought for a moment before realization struck. He looked over to Patton a wide eyed expression and said,"Are you talking about me?"

Patton looked down and Logan took this as confirmation. "Why would you like me? I'm harsh and cold and emotionless and--"

Patton looked up with a serious expression. "You are not emotionless Logan. You have emotions and you don't have to hide them. Having feelings doesn't make you any less smart." He said.

"I...But why me?" Logan asked.

"I can't exactly control who I love, Lo." Patton said, looking almost embarrassed. Logan blushed a bit and said,"You love me?"

Patton flushed and said,"Uh--Yes?"

"Earlier you said I wouldn't requite your feelings, why would you assume that?" Logan asked, once again confused.

"I just--well it doesn't seem like you're interested?" Patton said, internally debating about whether to run away or keep talking with Logan.

"Oh. Well you would be wrong." Logan said. Patton looked at him with a surprised expression, his eyes fairly wide.

"Wait really?" Patton said.

Logan smiled and took Patton's hand, kissing it softly. Patton's face burned and he hid his face with his free hand. Logan smiled a bit wider and said,"Yes."

Patton blushed darker and Logan took the latter's face in his hand. "Don't hide your pretty face from me, Pat." Logan said.

"Since when were you so charming, Lo?" Patton said, his face a shade of bubblegum pink thanks to Logan's words.

"I can be romantic, I just choose not to be. But now, maybe I should do it a bit more because it seems that you are very easy to fluster." Logan quipped, winking.

"I am not that easy to fluster!" Patton said half heartedly, his complexion contradicting the statement.

"It's not a bad thing, in fact I find it quite adorable." Logan said, blushing a bit as well. "You're going to kill me. Logan, I'm going to die and when I do, you're going to kill my ghost." Patton said, smiling and blushing.

"Well then I'll just have to revive you. Will a kiss do?" Logan said. Patton sputtered for a moment before closing his mouth and nodding.

Logan laughed and pressed his lips against Patton's. They pulled away after a few seconds and Patton mumbled,"I'm going to die now. Tell my son I love him."

"Love you too dad." Virgil said, walking into the living room, Roman following behind him.

Both the moral and logic side shot up, the former asking,"How long were you watching us for?!"

"Long enough that we learned what a flirt Logan is and that you are the most blushy side in the Mindscape." Roman replied, smirking a bit.

"We also know that Logicality is now canon." Virgil added, a matching smirk adorning his face.

"Logicality?" Logan asked, him and Patton both looking equally confused.

"Logic and Morality. Logan and Patton." Virgil explained.

"Oh. OH." Patton said. "Is this one of those "ship" things you were telling me about?" Logan questioned.

"Mhm." Virgil replied, eating a couple chips.

"I told you I wasn't talking about a boat!" Patton said, smiling a bit. "Fair enough." Logan said, giving him a matching smile.

"Ew, go be romantic somewhere else. We're trying to eat." Roman said, his nose wrinkling.

"Pat and I were here first." Logan pointed out.

"Get a room." Virgil said.

"Fine. Patton, it seems we are in the presence of several heathens who don't have manners. Would you like to accompany me to my room? We could watch a movie." Logan said, turning to the shorter side.

"I would love too." Patton said, grinning. Logan smiled and said,"Perfect. Much like you."

Patton flushed again and all three of the other sides laughed. Logan offered his hand to Patton who took it and followed Logan.

"Congrats on getting together! And if you hurt dad, I will send Remus after you." Virgil said, the last part directed and Logan who nodded in understanding.

"I wouldn't dare." Logan said, giving Patton a loving look that caused the moral side to melt.

As they walked up the rest of the stairs, Virgil turned to Roman. "You owe me five bucks, I told you they'd get together by the end of the month."

"Fine though I don't see why you need the money." Roman said, fishing out his wallet from on of his pockets.

"It's more the satisfaction of winning." Virgil replied.

Roman rolled his eyes and handed Virgil a five dollar which the anxious side took and put in his hoodie pocket.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #ts patton #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #mentioned janus and remus #logicality #ts logicality #patton angst #mutual pining #flirty logan #flustered patton #platonic prinxiety #tw minor food mention

[doomstypewriter]

Excuse me while I panic

Hello, and welcome back to the sh1tshow. Today's chapter is about betrayal. Actually yes but no, it's about misunderstandings and Roman and Janus kind of talking about the issues between them. Does anything get fully resolved? Of course not. But it's a start.

Also, some quality Janus for all of you moceit shippers.

Word count: 1194 | AO3 | <<Previous

Summary: After seeing Virgil so distraught, Roman decides to confront Janus.

CW: Angst, angry crying, Roman and Janus' issues, screaming, arguing, unsympathetic Janus (from Roman's point of view though, and just at the beginning), unsympathetic Roman (same as before, this is from Janus' point of view), swearing.

Let's accuse the snake of committing heinous crimes

Like a very organised opera dressing room.

That’s how Roman would describe Janus’ room once he rose inside.

“It’d be a pity if you knocked, Roman” Janus acknowledged him without bothering to look.

He was applying some heavy moisturizer to his reptile side. The creme made his scales looked kind of fuzzy and dull. Odd choice.

Janus went still.

“Okay, guess you won’t be leaving”, he said. “What can I be so pleased to help you with, Roman?” Janus finally stared at him.

“Ew, what’s up with your eye?”

His left eye looked glazed over. The pupil a hazy shade of blue, just like the iris. It was as if a semi-opaque layer of greyish blue had been laid onto the cornea.

“I’m shedding. Thanks for asking. I love to show it off. That’s exactly why I keep to myself when it happens. But enough about me, what do you want?”

Roman frowned.

“What are you playing at?”

“I AM shedding. It happens every now and then”.

“No. With Virgil”.

“Ah. Well, you see, I am actually trying to murder him. He spends so much time at those stairs that it’s almost like he’s asking for it”.

For a microsecond, Roman had the nerve to be horrified. Janus rolled his eyes at it.

“I know I’m an excellent liar Roman, but even someone as dim as you cannot believe that I honestly intend to kill Virgil. Among other things, we cannot be killed. Remember how much Remus tries? If it were possible I’d say, by this time, you’d be dead”.

“Then what are you plotting?”

Roman wanted to punch Janus when he heard him laugh. Still, he had sort of promised Virgil not to, so he had to make do by glaring at him and hoping he would magically be set on fire.

“My, my… one wouldn’t tell if you hold me to a high standard or a really low one” Janus wiped the tears from his eyes theatrically. After that, his tone darkened. “Being me, I guess the bar must be on the floor. You make it so easy to step over it to taunt you, dear”.

His fists tightened.

‘Do not punch him’, Roman had to mentally repeat to himself.

He felt mortified when he realised that a part of him felt so angry it made him want to cry. In an attempt to maintain his barely convincing menacing aura, Roman sucked up the tears and tried to sound detached.

“How--How can you be…” so much for keeping his tone unaffected.

The reaction from Janus was hardly distinguishable from surprise, amusement or… yes, guilt, not too much, but present.

“So evil?”

“I’m not” Janus replied categorically, his mocking tone gone.

“Really? Then why do you always have to play with everyone? Why do you always have some secret agenda?”

“I do--”

“Yes you do!” Roman interrupted him, finally tearing up. “Have you any idea what you’re making him go through? Why are you so selfish?!”

Janus tensed up, letting some of the hurt show on his face.

“Being selfish isn’t bad and--”

“It IS bad when you use it as an excuse to ignore that you’re hurting people. Which is exactly what you’re doing right now! No one is asking you to stop thinking about yourself”, Roman began to laugh bitterly, “I don’t even know if you can!

“Oh, right! That’s exactly why I helped you in the first place, Roman! Because I only care about myself! Have you forgotten who was the one who tried to convince everyone to choose the… what was it? Oh, the callback you desperately wanted to go to. After wasting away in a wedding anyone would think you’d see who had your best interests in mind. But I guess--”

“Shut up! I don’t care about the callback! Not… not anymore. At least this isn’t why I came here”.

“Then what do you want from me, Roman? Did you just want to feel morally superior and gloat?”

“I want you to tell me the truth. I’m so tired. Why did you even tell me to pursue Virgil if you hate me? Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

After one exasperated sigh, Janus put the creme down.

Meanwhile, Roman massaged his temples.

Seeing Virgil turning into a ball because of how confused and terrified he felt had gotten to him like no other thing.

The circling motions of his fingers came to a sudden halt.

“Patton. Does he know what you’re doing? I-- he trusts you! It’s one thing to have it out for me or be all weird with Virge, but if you even think about hurting him--”

Janus smashed his hands on the dresser.

“I’d never hurt Patton!”

“How can anyone believe what you would or wouldn’t do?!” he mirrored Virgil’s earlier words.

“Let me ask you this instead, how can you be so fucking stupid to think I’d ever do something to harm him?!”

“Because Virgil thought you cared about him and you stabbed him in the back, because I thought you liked me and then you used me! You’re using me right now and I don’t know what for, how can I put it past you to have Patton--”

“I’m not using you! I’m trying to be better because I want Patton to be happy!”

Roman quieted, fully taken aback.

“Wha...what?”

Janus huffed.

“Do you need me to also spell it out for you? I love him”.

His head lowered. Janus clasped his hands together, squeezing, as he brought them to his chest in a gesture that looked almost vulnerable, as if he was trying to push every feeling out of sight.

“He wanted me to apologise. But I don’t feel like I owe you that. After mocking me as you did, I think we’re even. Still… I understood that he wanted us to get along, so I decided I could do something nice for you. But I suppose wanting to fix one of your many oversights”, Janus looked up, “is my most diabolical plan yet. Right?”

“Umm… but you could just use it to get to Virgil…” Roman began to lose his resolve.

“Or I could be using it to also do something for him”, Janus began to say as if talking to a child, “because I never stopped caring about him, and things aren’t black or white as you seem to think, and I want to make Virgil happy too. I know, groundbreaking”.

The prince froze in place.

“But why would it make Virgil happy?”

Janus half-sighed, half-laughed in disbelief.

“For fuck’s sake, Roman. Why do you think?”

“Emm… oh”.

“Why are you still here? Go and talk to him”.

Roman started to head for the door, feeling like bursting at the seams.

“Before you leave, don’t get up to any of your usual nonsense. Use your pretty mouth and talk like an actual human being”.

“Will do!”

The door bashed against the frame as Roman ran out like a headless chicken. Janus ran his hands over his face.

“Now what?” he looked at Roman peeking in again.

“Hmm… thank you, Janus”.

“Love to help, now leave!”

<<Previous | Next>>

Taglist: @itsjust-la-me , @bard-in-blue , @simplestoryteller , @winterwynd , @some-fander , @extraintrovertedalien , @the-sad-strawberry

If anyone wants to be tagged, let it be known, I'd love to tag them, so tell me in the comments.

#prinxiety #moceit #roman sanders #ts roman #ts janus #sanders sides #prinxiety fanfiction #doomywrites #doomstypewriter #angst

[averykedavra]

If you’re feeling up for it could you please do 3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.” With Roman and Janus. Thank you!!

(Wow, you all really like roceit, huh? This is my sole prompt for today as I caught up on homework instead, but I’ll be back tomorrow, if canon doesn’t break me)

Words: 3981

“Okay,” Janus said. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” Roman flinched and pulled at his apron. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Hold on a second,” Janus told the customer in front of him, who opened their mouth to ask a question. Janus made a zip it gesture before pushing off the counter and dragging Roman into the storage closet. The door automatically closed, and Janus kicked the wedge into the gap before it slammed.

Hidden among racks of coffee beans, Roman seemed to relax. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward to kiss Janus quickly on the lips.

“You okay?” Roman asked when he pulled away. “You look stressed.”

“Of course I am, I’m on barista duty.” Janus glanced at the door. He could hear the customers babbling, but if this was an emergency, they would survive without a dead-eyed barista to hand them coffee. “What’s wrong?”

“What, do I need an excuse to see my boyfriend?” Roman placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “I love you!”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Janus said, though he allowed himself to preen at the affection. “You’re harried and there’s coffee all over your apron. And you’re supposed to be lifting boxes. What happened?”

Roman sighed and deflated like an old balloon. “The shadow demons are holding the place hostage again.”

“Again?” Janus groaned. “What is that, three times this month?”

“Yep.” Roman popped the p.

Janus sighed and glanced at his feet. “What do they want this time?”

“Dunno, but I can assume the usual.” Roman waved a hand. “Annihilation and destruction and blood to drench the floors, et cetera et cetera.”

“Great. This shift was too quiet.” Janus untied his ponytail and retied it, pulling all the strands taut. “Any casualties so far?”

“The coffee machine stopped working again.”

“Those bastards.”

“I’ve been telling you to get an exorcist,” Roman said. “Honey, this is just going to keep happening.”

“Am I in charge? No! Ask Patton, whenever he actually shows up.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Besides, exorcists are scam artists and religious nuts.”

“We have demons,” Roman pointed out. “You can believe in shadow demons, but not in exorcists?”

Janus rolled his eyes again. “That’d be a large chunk of the budget. If it matters to you so much, ask Patton.”

Roman huffed. “I’d much rather talk to you! Because I like you!”

“Sap.” Janus glanced at the door again. “We’d better hurry. What’s the details of this one?”

“Runes on the basement wall. Can’t decipher them. Virgil’s guarding the door to make sure nothing escapes.”

“Runes. Should be easy.” Janus wiped his hands on his apron and wished he’d made himself a shot of espresso. Saving the coffee shop was always easier while buzzed on caffeine. “Lead the way, darling.”

“Gladly!” Roman grabbed his hand, kissed it, and pulled Janus out of the storage room. They passed a clamoring crowd of customers, and Janus soaked in the final glimpse of sunlight. It was a busy day. All the more reason to solve this problem before it threatened any customers--they didn’t need another one-star Yelp review.

Of course, they could just move. Or, probably more reasonably, burn the cursed place to the ground and stab the ashes. No good could come from a shop so deeply filled with shadow demons. But Patton insisted--through email, the few times he actually responded--that the place had value to the community. Janus doubted that, but he wasn’t paid enough to object.

Capitalism. The only reason he took this job. It had seemed too good to be true that they were hiring without any previous experience. And, as Janus feared, it was.

Still, perhaps it would be good for his resume. Worked as manager-by-default at Spirit Cafe. Practiced at taking orders from no one, fighting shadow spirits, bartering for the life of an unlucky intern, and making espresso.

“Capitalism,” Janus complained as Roman led him downstairs.

“Yes, love, I know.”

The basement was two levels--the first was called the ‘chocolate factory,’ and the second, ‘spider hell.’ Roman had named the first in a burst of whimsy after rereading the Willy Wonka book. The second was self-explanatory. The second was also home to most of the demons.

When Janus passed the few employees around, they gave him a do we have to evacuate look. He responded with a don’t think so, keep toiling for the man look. Roman gave them all a perky thumbs up.

The second set of stairs were too greasy to make out their color. It was old legend that the posters and artwork grew older the farther you went--the cafe on the top floor was fresh and bright, and the chocolate factory was decorated with motivational posters that were splattered with coffee. Spider hell was devoid of intact decorations. Just old photos with faded edges, a few outdated certificates of health, and torn motivational posters.

For example, the poster on the door to spider hell. It had a kitten image, and was probably supposed to say Hang in there! The bottom was torn off. It just said Hang.

Roman opened the door and bowed dramatically. Janus sighed, kissed Roman’s cheek, and entered spider hell.

The hallway itself was clean, if a bit too reminiscent of fluorescent middle school halls. Most of the doors didn’t open. Janus kicked one as he passed, and the narrow window glinted back at him. Door, door, old bathroom with moths around the lights, door, mysterious graffiti--

Virgil, who breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the door to the boiler room. His apron was tied around his waist like a sweater. Behind him were several wooden rods, a few floorboards, and balled-up motivational posters, all jammed against the door to keep it locked.

“You’ve been busy,” Roman said. “Is that a folding chair?”

“I had to be careful!” Virgil pressed closer to the door. “I’m too young to die! I was gonna steal some metal from the pipes, but Janus would have been mad.”

“Correct,” Janus agreed. “We’re going to deal with this situation, alright? You can go cover for me upstairs--we need another barista.”

“I can leave?” Virgil whooped. “Oh, thank fuck, I’m gonna get the hell out of here. Have fun.”

“We will!” Roman said.

Virgil saluted them, then raced down the hallway. “Gonna expect a pay raise for all this!”

“Take it up with Patton,” Janus yelled.

“Don’t blame things on your imaginary friend!”

“He’s not--”

The door slammed behind Virgil. Janus turned to Roman petulantly. “He’s not imaginary. I’ve seen him. Once.”

“Sure,” Roman said.

“Ugh.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Why do I keep you two around?”

“Well, Virgil’s the coffee machine whisperer! And I’m devilishly handsome.” Roman winked at him. “You can’t resist, dearest.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Janus turned to the door. “In we go?”

“Into the breach, dear boyfriend.”

It took several minutes to pull the obstacles off the door. Virgil had managed to pound nails into the doorframe, probably in sheer panic, and Roman kept pausing to nurse splinters. Janus pried the folding chair from the door, tore off the posters, and kissed Roman’s hand when he asked. Finally, the door was clear enough for Janus to force it open.

An unwritten rule at the coffee shop was to keep flashlights everywhere. Behind every door, on every table, and in every pocket. Janus pulled his own out of his apron. Roman did the same.

At first, the boiler room looked normal. The huffing pipes, tossing steam into the corners, and the grimy concrete floor. Then Janus’ flashlight skidded onto the wall, and the beam illuminated a series of runes burned into the plaster. Each letter was about the size of Janus’ head, and the edges were rough, like they’d been clawed there.

“No blood,” Janus noticed. “They’re losing their touch.”

“I’m assuming that’s a message.” Roman walked forward and squinted at it. “Can you make anything out?”

Janus tried to put the squiggles into some kind of order. It looked like a few dozen letters, but he couldn’t be sure, because they blended into each other and made his head hurt. “I have no idea what that says.”

“Darn.” Roman folded his arms and flickered his flashlight on the runes like a strobe light. They did not magically coalesce into something coherent. “Logan’s not here, right?”

“He’s off-shift.” Janus thought for a second before pulling out his phone. “I’ll text him.”

“What if he’s busy?”

“The customer is always right, and always comes first,” Janus said while unlocking his phone. “Customers don’t want to die. He can spare a moment for us. And I’m his manager-by-default, so he has to do what I say.”

“Fair,” Roman said, giving Janus the you’re very cute when you’re in charge smile.

Janus would have teased him about that, if they had time. Instead, he just shot Logan a text. Can you decode something?

Half a minute passed.

This is important, Janus texted.

Ten more seconds with no response.

I will fire you, Janus texted. We’re all going to die, Janus texted. This is an emergency, Janus texted. Our deaths will be on your conscience if you keep ignoring me, Janus texted.

“Maybe he just hasn’t seen the texts,” Roman pointed out, leaning over Janus’ shoulder.

Answer me or I swear I’ll fucking find you, Janus texted.

“Dearest,” Roman said.

“What?”

Before Roman could say something endearingly naive about ‘compassion’ or whatever, Janus’ phone buzzed.

What do you need? Logan had texted back.

Janus held up his phone and took a picture of the runes. Fortunately, they showed up on camera. The picture still mysteriously corrupted mid-message, but when Janus re-sent it, Logan sent back a thumbs up.

What does it say? Janus asked.

Logan typed for several seconds. Finally, Janus received a small wall of text. He skimmed it, closed his eyes, and opened his eyes again.

“That’s not English,” Roman said hesitantly. “I’m not losing it. That’s not English, right?”

“I think it’s Catalan.” Janus sighed and thumbed out a response. That wasn’t English, try again.

Apologies, Logan responded. I’ll try again.

Janus waited impatiently, watching the small white dots as Logan texted. Roman dropped a kiss to his forehead for no apparent reason. Janus did his best not to blush.

Finally, Logan sent a small paragraph, followed by English?

Yes, good job. Thank you.

No problem. Stop texting me more than once or I will block you.

How dare you, I am your manager.

No response. Janus resolved to discreetly spill coffee on Logan’s shirt on their next shared shift.

“What’d he say?” Roman asked, impatiently jumping from foot to foot.

Janus skimmed the paragraph. “It looks like a riddle. ‘What walks on two legs--’”

“Human,” Roman interrupted. “Oh, that’s an easy one!”

Janus shook his head. “‘What walks on two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look?’”

For a second, they were both quiet.

“That’s not a human,” Roman finally said, a bit weakly.

“Humans don’t tend to gain limbs, you’re correct.” Janus let out a breath. “Analogy or not, human is not the answer.”

“Then what is it?” Roman turned to the wall again. The letters dripped like burns down the wall. “We--I’m assuming they want us to solve the riddle.”

“Yeah.”

“Why a riddle?”

“Sometimes you get bored,” Janus said. “I get it.”

Roman looked incredulously at him.

“The bigger question is what happens if we don’t guess it,” Janus continued, tapping his fingers on his phone. “Definitely something good.”

“And how much time do we have?”

As if by agreement, they both looked back at the door. It had slammed shut. The only light were their flashlights, illuminating the hulking boiler and the dustiest corners of spider hell. No spiders yet, but it was only a matter of time. Janus could almost hear them rustling.

“That’s not going to open,” Roman said, his voice pitched up. “Is it?”

“Only one way to make sure.” Janus strode over to the door and tugged on the handle. It was like tugging on a concrete wall. “Congratulations, you win a prize.”

“Wonderful,” Roman exclaimed. “Fabulous! We’re trapped here!”

Janus stepped back and rammed his shoulder into the door. The only thing he achieved was shoulder pain.

“I’m gonna call someone.” Roman pulled out his phone. The blue light trembled over his face. “Get us out of here.”

“We haven’t solved the riddle yet!” Janus protested, giving up on the locked door. “Solve it, and we leave, and the shop won’t be in danger.”

“I’d rather be alive, thanks!”

“Coward,” Janus murmured, scanning the room for immediate threats, and finding nothing but shadows and cobwebs. That didn’t mean nothing was there. It just meant they still had time. “We have to keep the shop from burning down, it’s the bare minimum of our jobs.”

Roman ran a hand through his hair. “And what’s it to us? I hate this job, and so do you.”

“Patton would fire me if I didn’t--”

“So get fired!” Roman burst out in frustration. “Let this place go up in smoke, I don’t care!”

“There are people in here! We need their money!” Janus waved his hands around. “Capitalism!”

That made Roman snicker, which made the tension settle, which made Janus smile back.

“You can leave if you’d like,” Janus allowed after a moment. “If you can find a way out. I can try to solve the riddle on my own.”

“What? No! We’re in this together.” Roman grinned at him. “If my boyfriend is stubborn enough to face down shadow demons like an idiot, I’m going to be an idiot with him.”

“Charming,” Janus said sarcastically, to avoid saying something extremely sappy. “You truly know how to treat a man.”

“I do!” Roman smiled wider and gestured at the runes. “A very smart man who will definitely solve this riddle!”

Janus nodded and turned back to the wall of runes.

Two legs in the air, and eight legs on the ground. It must be an analogy, like the original riddle, but what could air and ground represent? Imagination and reality? Or perhaps the legs were the metaphorical parts--

“Go Janus!” Roman cheered quietly from behind him.

“What?”

“I’m encouraging you!” Roman made jazz hands. “Solve it! You can do it, dear!”

Janus snickered and rolled his eyes.

“Go Janus,” Roman whispered.

Janus tried to focus on the riddle again.

Maybe he should research it. Logan clearly didn’t have an answer, or he probably would have included it with his text, but Logan was still a good problem-solver. Janus should have asked what language it was in. Janus should have confirmed the translation. Janus should have given Virgil a backup plan.

There was no use psyching himself out, though. This was another routine afternoon. He’d come out victorious a dozen times before, and there was no reason he wouldn’t keep up the streak.

Two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer he looked.

Janus looked harder.

And he saw legs. And hands, and claws scratching at the cement.

Oh, yay, just what he’d wanted! It must be his birthday.

“Roman,” Janus said slowly. “Do you see that too?”

“What?”

“Look very closely.”

A long pause. Then a loud “Fuck!”

“You see it?”

“Hard to miss now,” Roman said, wide-eyed. “What is that?”

Slowly, and steadily, the runes were crumbling. The burns were melting deeper into the wall. And from the holes, shadows climbed out--or maybe it was just the holes themselves, deepening and tearing, turning the world inside out.

“Fun,” Janus said, wishing he’d taken his chance to get the hell out of here while he still could. “This is very, very fun.”

“We should probably solve that riddle,” Roman said.

“Oh, really?” Janus clutched his flashlight tighter. The beam glanced off the shadows like light on oil. “I would have never guessed.”

Two legs in air, eight legs on the ground, more legs and hands and eyes glistening with oil--

The next few seconds were a blur. Something lunged, Janus’ flashlight winked out, and Roman’s clattered to the ground. A cold rope-hand-something curled around his ankle, and Roman’s hand grabbed his.

“Where’s my--” Roman’s voice was panicked. “Shit, okay, the flashlight’s by the boiler--”

“Okay,” Janus said quietly, trying to kick away the cold cloud-hand-whatever it was. “I can’t see the runes anymore.”

“They’re basically falling apart as we speak. You remember the riddle, right?”

“Two, eight, far too many.” Janus swallowed and tried to think. The cold around his ankle was growing warm, too, like frostbite so icy it burned. “Two, eight--”

His ankle was wrenched in a direction it wasn’t supposed to.

Janus heard a wet snap.

And oh, he knew that feeling. Too sudden and complete to hurt. Too much hurt to even comprehend, as if he could feel the pain coming, but not enough time to brace himself. Not nearly enough time.

Red-hot pain, jolting up his bones, from his broken fucking ankle.

He might have screamed. His knees buckled, and someone--Roman--caught him halfway to the floor. Everything was dark. Something red flashed in his vision. Janus could barely breathe without pain tearing at his lungs, but he tried, breathe in and out and wait for the world to stop spinning.

“Hey, whoa, okay, okay,” Roman was murmuring. “What happened? What--”

Janus opened his mouth to explain. All that escaped was a small whimper. If Janus was in less pain, he would have been embarrassed.

“Okay, okay, love, it’s okay.” A hand brushed Janus’ hair out of his face. “Keep breathing. Calm down. It’s okay.”

“Ankle,” Janus forced out. His limbs felt like jelly. “Fucking ankle, gonna fucking--”

“Yes, yes, you’ll get your revenge.” Roman’s voice was achingly soft, and it made Janus relax a bit. “I can lower you to the ground so you don’t have to put weight on it--”

“No,” Janus complained, rather enjoying the feeling of Roman’s arms around him. “Pretty sure we wanna be able to run--”

“You can’t run anyway.”

“Capitalism,” Janus mumbled. “Hate it.”

“Me too, love.”

Something scraped at Janus’ shoulder, something that felt uncomfortably like teeth. He stifled a yelp.

“Oh, that was something.” Roman’s harried tone told Janus he’d felt it, too. “Where is my flashlight--I can’t see anything--”

“Riddle,” Janus reminded him.

“Right,” Roman said. “Right, right, you know what? I’m gonna call someone! I’m gonna call someone.”

“Mm.”

A pause and several rustles. The pain was dulling to a manageable low roar. Janus felt something brush his hand and he swatted at it. Maybe they’d break his other ankle next. Maybe they’d work through him limb by limb, like a game of Hangman.

“Fuck off,” Janus told the darkness.

“Phone’s not--” Roman swore. “Phone’s not working. Of course.”

“Riddle.”

“Right.”

“Riddle,” Janus repeated. Two legs, eight legs, lots of legs. Maybe it didn’t have an answer and they were just messing with him. Maybe he’d answer it and die anyway. That would be a shame, dying with his boyfriend, especially because letting everyone in the building perish was definitely a health code violation.

Roman whacked at something. “Away, foul fiends!”

Janus tested his ankle. He couldn’t even bring himself to move it.

Wonderful. He couldn’t solve a three-line riddle, and he was going to die like a fool in the shadows of spider hell--

Wait.

“Two legs,” Janus said. His voice rasped. “Two legs in the air, when it’s falling on a thread--oh, I hate you.”

“What?” Roman asked.

“And eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look.” Janus laughed. “That’s fair enough.”

Something brushed against his back, feeling like scales.

“Spiders,” Janus said. “That’s the answer! Are you happy now? It’s spiders, leave us alone!”

For one horrifying second, one throb of his ankle, nothing happened.

And then the flashlight at Janus’ feet turned on.

Spider hell looked the same as it always did. Empty walls, a boiler choking on steam, and Roman’s flashlight rolling in the dust. Roman grabbed Janus’, leaned over, and grabbed his own.

“What--” Roman looked around. “Did you--solve it?”

“I think--” Janus slipped a bit in Roman’s arms.

“You did it!” Roman laughed in relief. “You did it, you absolute genius--”

Janus looked up at his boyfriend. Even through the haze of pain, he looked exceedingly adorable. Janus leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Don’t flatter me.”

“But darling, it’s so easy!” Roman adjusted Janus in his arms. “Does your ankle hurt?”

“Take a guess.”

“We’ll have to find you a doctor,” Roman said, pulling him forward. “Out of the basement first, though, before another villainous creature decides to use as afternoon entertainment.”

“Or the spiders find us,” Janus agreed. He tried to shift his weight onto his good foot, but he could barely move without his head spinning. “Ow.”

“Just stay put! I’ll carry you!”

“No.”

“I’ll assist you,” Roman amended. “Lean on me, and I’ll walk you upstairs, okay?”

Janus shifted in Roman’s arms. “Am I hurting you? I’m heavy.”

“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy.” Roman pressed a kiss to Janus’ head and led him to the door. He kicked it, and it opened. “I’ve got you, love. I’m escorting the brave savior of the coffee shop!”

“I’m manager by default,” Janus said, wrapping an arm around Roman’s waist. Just to hold himself up, of course. No other reason. “It’s my job.”

“You do a great job of it!”

“Someone has to.” Janus clung to Roman’s side as he led them up the stairs. The poster told him to Hang. Janus filled in the other two words, and hung in there.

“I think it’s broken,” Janus said as Roman half-carried him up the stairs. “This is humiliating. Also, expensive.”

“We’ll figure it out, people get hurt, it happens.” Roman paused on one landing. “I’m just happy it wasn’t anything worse.”

“Still the worst injury so far,” Janus said ruefully. “Give me employee of the month.”

Roman smiled and pulled him up the final stairs. “I’ll ask Patton.”

When they burst dramatically through the doors into the cafe, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not dead!”

“Not for lack of trying, no.” Janus eased himself onto a chair and took a deep breath. The cafe was bursting with people and lights, all the customers completely unaware that they’d just escaped their demise. Janus envied them. “The situation is taken care of, you can relax.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said. “Uh--you okay?”

“He’s taking the rest of the day off,” Roman said before Janus could explain. “Broken ankle. I’m going to rest with him at home, then he’ll take a trip to the clinic.”

“I’ll what?” Janus repeated. “I have a shift--”

“You’re the manager,” Roman pointed out. “Give yourself a free day.”

“The cafe’s busy! I’d leave us short-staffed!”

“You can’t walk.”

“Capitalism!”

“Self-care!” Roman folded his arms. “Virgil, can you cover for Janus as he goes home?”

“Uh--” Virgil looked between them. Janus expected him to say no. “‘Course! I bet I can grab Logan for an emergency shift, too.”

“No, you can’t,” Janus said mockingly as Virgil pulled out his phone. “He’s a bastard and won’t--”

Virgil’s phone buzzed. “He’ll be here in five.”

“Wh--” Janus blinked. “How did you--”

“He just doesn’t like you.” Virgil smirked at him. “Go rest, Jan, we’ll cover your ass.”

“You heard him!” Roman held out a hand. “Come on, love, let’s have a break. The coffee shop won’t burn down while you’re gone, and if it does, Patton can handle it.”

Janus wasn’t sure about that one. Maybe he would return to a burned shell of a building. Or several dead bodies.

But Virgil and Logan knew what to do. And an afternoon with his boyfriend didn’t sound too bad.

“Fine,” Janus said. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

#roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #averywrites #asks and answers #anon #yes i had way too much fun with this au why do u ask #yes this is too long why do u ask #yes i need sleep why do u ask #crap forgot warnings #tw injury #tw death mention #tw spiders #coffee shop au #supernatural au

[c-swirlz]

Would I Lie to You? {Patton ‘Birthday’ Special}

Summary: Patton intends to celebrate his ‘birthday’ alone, but Janus won’t let that slide.

Pairing(s): Platonic Moceit

Warning(s): Implied crying, use of drowning as an idiom/metaphor (I’m not sure which it is)

[AO3 link]

Patton had barely left his room since he’d checked on Roman.

“Shouldn’t you be helping your new friend get acquainted?”

Roman, surprisingly, had emerged more often, tending to stick close to Virgil if the anxious Side was downstairs, even if nobody else was in the vicinity.

“I’m fine, Patton, I just... want to be left alone for a while.”

Patton had screwed up.

“If you really cared about me, you would’ve said something when that snake called me evil!”

Badly.

“Just -- just leave. Please.”

It was January 15, and the sun was just rising over the horizon. Part of Patton expected Roman to burst into the room like he’d done every other year, but the remaining parts took the wheel, forcing Patton to face the reality of the situation.

God, why hadn’t he said something? If he had just spoken up when Janus called Roman evil--

Patton wriggled further under his blanket, hugging his pillow close so his head was still cushioned. He hadn’t moved from his bed since he’d woken up, despite it being his special day, which always used to excite him.

After everything that had happened, he had a feeling nobody else would even care, despite the others’ past insistence on checking on him only to be dismissed with the lie that he was fine.

So he stayed there.

And he most certainly did not cry.

~---~

Nearly an hour later, Patton decided moping around wouldn’t do him any good and reluctantly left the warmth and comfort of his bed to change out of his pyjamas and freshen up. When he sunk out and rose up in the bathroom, he winced at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes in the mirror. After a quick soak and wash of his face, Patton was relieved to see that the red had faded, now barely visible. He attempted to tame his bedhead, which resulted in him being satisfied when it looked somewhat neat despite there being several hairs still sticking out at various angles.

Patton returned to his room and sat on his bed, placing his hands in his lap and looking down at his shoes.

“Happy birthday to me,” he muttered.

There was a knock on the door, but Patton didn’t want to answer. His door happened to be unlocked, so the knocker let themselves in.

“Hello, Patton.”

Patton glanced up at the knocker. He didn’t have the energy to mask his gloominess, so he didn’t bother faking a smile.

“Hi, Janus.”

Sensing the lack of usual cheerfulness, Janus frowned.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” Patton replied, a tad too quickly.

“Mhm.” Patton flinched at Janus’ disbelieving tone, his gaze snapping back down to his shoes.

There were footsteps. The mattress dipped as Janus sat beside Patton.

“Talk to me, Patton.”

Patton inhaled slowly and steadily, the exhale turning into a sigh.

“Have you ever celebrated your ‘birthday’ alone?”

The question caught Janus off guard, but he answered nonetheless.

“Once or twice, yes. What does that have to do with--” Janus cut himself off as the realisation dawned on him. He was well aware of the date, as well as the occasion that accompanied it.

“Ah.”

“I was thinking of doing that today. Y’know, celebrating in here, alone. I doubt any of the others would wanna join me after what happened.”

“Patton--”

“It’s fine,” Patton interrupted. “Really, it is. You can go join the others downstairs -- I’ll stay here.”

Janus heaved a sigh. “Okay, first of all, you are a dreadful liar, Patton -- I say that with the utmost sincerity. Second, it seems you’ve forgotten that Roman and Virgil still somewhat dislike me and Logan... well, he’s actually the only Core Side other than you who willingly speaks to me, but that’s not the point.”

Patton glanced up at Janus and raised an eyebrow. “What’re you getting at?”

Janus dramatically fell backwards so he was laying across the bed, Patton’s gaze following him the entire time.

“Going downstairs would not be one of my smartest decisions, so I’m content to stay here. Besides, I’d much rather spend time with someone who actually appreciates my company.”

Patton smiled. It was genuine, albeit small.

“And, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to join you in celebrating. Take it from me -- celebrating alone is no fun.”

Patton giggled. “Yeah. Okay, sure, you can join me.”

Janus sat up and fixed his gloves and hat (which had somehow not fallen off and was only slightly askew). Then, he looked over at Patton and smirked.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Won’t get a whole lot of celebrating done just sitting here burning daylight.”

~---~

A gasp of disbelief escaped Patton’s lips as he stared wide-eyed at Janus. The two of them were sitting underneath a blanket fort in the middle of Patton’s room, said room filled with various decorations ranging from streamers to a piñata (which had already been smashed).

“Wait, Virgil did what?!”

“Pushed Thomas so he’d talk to a cute guy they’d seen in the mall.”

Patton squealed. “Oh my gosh, I’m so proud of him! That mustn’t have been easy for him to do.”

Janus made a show of nonchalantly inspecting his nails, despite him still wearing his gloves. “I’m pretty sure he did it for Roman, but it was definitely worth it. You’ll love Nico, Patton.”

Patton nodded, dismissing the thoughts of Thomas’ ex the moment they entered his head. “I’m sure I will. He sounds like a really nice guy.”

Janus’ lips curled up into a small smile. “Well, on that note, I think it’s about time I gave you your present.”

Patton stared at Janus, his eyes expressing something unreadable.

“My... my present?”

Janus nodded.

“You... got me something?”

Janus gently bumped Patton’s shoulder. “Well, I wasn’t going to let our dear Morality have a ‘birthday’ without at least one gift.”

With a wave of a gloved hand, a small parcel appeared. Janus inspected it for a moment before handing it to Patton, satisfied with... the quality, if Patton had to guess. For a moment, the moral Side simply stared at it.

“Go ahead, Patton,” Janus prompted, “open it.”

Patton blinked, coming out of whatever trance he had been in and slowly tearing the wrapping paper. As he tore more off, he became increasingly eager, so the tearing gradually increased in speed until all the paper had been removed.

“Janus...”

“Wait a few seconds,” Janus instructed. Patton complied, and a few seconds later the framed photo of Thomas and Nico he held delicately in his hands transitioned into an old photo of him, Logan, Roman and Virgil. The framed photo operated very similarly to the other photos in his room -- every few seconds, said photos would change.

“Your bedside table was looking rather empty without that photo of--” Janus cut himself off, but Patton knew what he’d been about to say. After a moment of silence, Janus cleared his throat awkwardly. “So I gathered some photos and put this little thing together.” He gestured to the framed photo in Patton’s hands.

Patton hugged his present to his chest and grinned. “I love it. Thank you, Janus.”

Janus’ lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, but before a full smile could form, Janus paused.

“Janus?”

“Oh, for the love of--” Janus crawled out from under the blanket fort and stood, while Patton remained where he was.

“Where’re you going?”

Janus heaved a sigh. “Downstairs. The three musketeers want to see me.”

“You want me to come with you?”

Janus shook his head. “No. No, you stay there -- I’ll be right back.”

And with the creak and slam of the door, Janus was gone.

~---~

When Janus returned eight minutes later, he poked his head into Patton’s room to find the moral Side still sitting under the blanket fort, swiping the framed photo and looking at the various photos it contained.

“So,” Janus began, startling Patton, “turns out the others are practically drowning in puddles of their own guilt. On a more uplifting note, it seems they’re waiting for you. They totally aren’t waiting to shower you with gifts.”

Patton crawled out from under the blanket fort, standing slowly and clutching the photo frame tightly.

“You... you mean it?”

Janus chuckled, stepping aside to allow Patton to exit his room. Janus reached out and closed the door, took Patton’s hand and led him down the hall towards the stairs.

“Would I lie to you?”

#sanders sides #sanders sides oneshot #patton sanders #janus sanders #platonic moceit #patton sanders birthday #swirlz scrawls

[p-artsypants]

Arcadia or Bust (17)

Heartstone Hall

Previously on Arcadia or Bust:

James Lake Sr. came back to Arcadia while Jim and friends were out retrieving the new Heartstone. The deadbeat not only ran away with a girl, but he’d been dealing cocaine in LA. Now he’s come back to lay low, since he owes a lot of money to some really dangerous men. He got a kilo of cocaine to try to make his profit back, only to not pick it up from the drop zone before Jim found it. Thinking it was trash, Jim ate the brick and went into an 8 hour rage, busting up the town. The US army of Area 49-B got a whiff of the destruction and came to collect Jim from the hospital. With a campaign from the town and an old friend of Walter’s, Jim is turned loose. However, he’s not out of the woods yet, as his amulet was ripped out of his chest and now he has a crater. 

—

*points in a random direction* Hey look! What’s that over there?! *Drops update* *runs*

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“It’s okay Jim, you’re going to be okay,” said Claire, as she hovered just over his face, and pressed little kisses to his cheek. “We’re going home.” 

“…For the…glory…” he muttered, before wincing and falling silent. 

“Are you taking us to the hospital?” Barbara asked as the van sped on, faster than any speed limit. 

“Nope,” said Samuel. “I think this is a Heartstone issue.” 

She nodded, knowing that would be the best. “He needs a tissue transplant, but his skin is so tough…I don’t even know what we could do for him. Get human skin and have Merlin transform it into half-troll? I hate that I don’t know what to do! I’m not a surgeon, damnit! And I’m certainly no magic expert!” 

“Stop at the McDonald’s near the edge of town,” said Toby. 

“Really? You want a Big Mac at a time like this?” 

“No! Merlin is probably there, and I bet he could fix Jim up.” 

“Wait, Merlin-Merlin? Like ‘Amulet of Merlin, Sword of Excalibur’ Merlin?” Asked Samuel.

“That’s the one!” 

Once they got into town, Samuel pulled in at the McDonalds as requested, and Toby was out the door before he stopped the car. 

“Merlin! Merlin help!” He cried, as he ran inside the restaurant. 

The employees behind the counter all looked at him, and then pointed at Merlin, who had set up shop in the corner of the store. He was surrounded by books, and other magical artifacts. 

How had management allowed this? Well actually, Merlin wouldn’t have listened to any authority, so they probably didn’t allow it. 

Toby ran to the wizard. “We got Jim back! He’s in the van, and he’s hurt really bad! We need you to heal him!” 

“What kind of injury?” Asked Merlin, calmly packing up his books. 

“They took his amulet, and there’s a huge hole in his chest! I could see his lungs!” 

Merlin screwed up his lips in thought. “Where are they taking him? To the Heartstone?”

“That’s what Samuel said!” 

Merlin didn’t ask who Samuel was, so he probably didn’t care. “I will be there shortly. I must gather the appropriate supplies. Keep him reclined and relaxed. And try not to prod the wound.” 

Toby nodded once and then ran back outside to the van. 

One of the McDonald employees calmly came over and refilled Merlin’s coffee, as he had asked to be done every hour. 

“Good lad. I’m leaving now. Here, for your trouble.” And he dropped a sizable emerald in the kid’s hand. 

The kid looked at it and shrugged. “Whatever.” It beat minimum wage at least.

—

At the canal, Claire opened up the portal to Trollmarket while Walter and Samuel started to get Jim out of the van. She ran in and called out, “Blinky! ARRRGH! Jim’s back! He’s hurt!” 

ARRRGH came running, while Blinky gathered all sorts of supplies and carried them down to the Heartstone. 

It was a mad dash then. Jim was quickly, but carefully, brought down into Heartstone Hall, and rested on his mattress on the floor. 

“…cold…” he whispered as he grasped and pulled at the blankets. 

Barbara pulled the comforter up to his stomach, and draped a smaller one over his right side. “I know you're cold, but you have a wound, and we can’t cover it yet.” 

“…water…” 

“I’m on it!” Cried Toby, running upstairs.

Jim groaned out in pain, and the Heartstone responded with a pulse of light. 

“Is that good?” Asked Claire. 

“The Heartstone is picking up on Jim’s pain, and is releasing magic to aid in his healing!” Said Blinky, with a smile. 

“Is that going to deplete the magic we put back into it?” 

“No no! Well, maybe…it shouldn’t!” 

Jim moaned out again, tensing his whole body, and craning his neck in an effort to find relief. 

“Just a little bit longer, sweetie,” said Barbara. “Merlin will be here soon.” She gnawed on her lip. “I could probably get an IV for him from the hospital. I have my phone, so call me if there’s any change!” 

“I’ll drive you, Dr. Lake,” said Samuel. 

“That’s alright, I’ll take the tunnel to my house and grab my car. That way, you don’t need to be held up here any longer. You’ve been a great help.” 

The general smiled. “It was worth it more than I thought. The Trollhunter owes me a favor now, you see. I probably won’t need to collect, but it’s always fun to have that in your back pocket. And besides, I got to see Trollmarket and the Heartstone with my own eyes.” He glanced at the orange stone. “That’s a privilege everyone in the Janus Order longed for.” Before he got too wistful, he turned to Walt. “You’ll let me know how this all turns out, right? Because I’m invested in Mr. Lake’s fate now.”

“I’ll text you updates.” 

“Fantastic.” He gave Jim a pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Trollhunter.”

“I’ll show you out,” said Barbara as they left together. 

Then it was just Blinky, ARRRGH, Claire, and Walt. Time ticked on in silence, as no one knew what to do or say. Only occasional groans from Jim broke the quiet atmosphere.

“What’s taking Merlin so long?” Said Claire, with irritation. 

“He’s coming?” Asked Blinky.

“We told him about what happened before we came down here. Said he had to collect ‘appropriate materials’.” 

“So he’s collecting materials,” said Walter. “It might take some time.” 

“Yeah, but he’s probably doing it at a leisurely pace. The man has no concept of time anymore. We need to get him a phone. Or at least a walkie-talkie.” 

Just then, a gallon bucket of ice and water bottles descended on a rope from the center column of the room. 

“Heads up! It’s kinda heavy!” Toby called before it hit the ground harshly. Then he nearly tumbled down the stairs himself. 

“I got a bunch because I know Jim doesn’t have running water down here yet, and I didn’t want us to run out!” He took a bottle from the bucket and put a silly straw in it so Jim could drink without having to sit up. “Sorry Jim, this is the only straw I have…it says ‘big boy’.” Toby tilted the end of the straw so it touched Jim’s lips. 

In his half conscious state, Jim felt it, took it in his mouth, and sucked, emptying half the bottle in one go. He released the straw and licked his lips. 

“Better, Jimbo?” 

“Uh huh…” Jim managed a little nod. 

“Okay. I’ll be on water duty. You just say the word, okay?” 

“…For…the glory of Merlin…” Jim tried again, before wincing hard. “Hurts to breathe…” 

Claire sat cross legged on the bed next to him, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails. “Just hang on for a little bit longer. Your mom is bringing some medicine from the hospital, and Merlin is going to fix you up.” 

His eyes flickered open ever so slightly. “Where am I?” 

“You’re in Heartstone Hall, in your bed.” 

His eyes closed again. “My amulet…gone.” 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it right now. Just relax.” 

“Hurts…” 

“I know, babe, I know.” 

Walt stood, looking at his phone. “Barbara’s back. I’ll go help her.” And he left. 

Blinky snapped his fingers. “I think Vendal had a recipe for a burn salve up there. I can work on that. Come ARRRGH! It’s the least we can do!” 

“Yell if Jim need help,” ARRRGH added, as he followed Blinky up the stairs. 

“More water, Jimbo?” 

“Huh Uh…” 

After he drank, he winced, and a tear rolled from his eye. “I want my mom.” 

“She’s coming, Jim. She’s bringing some medicine for you.” 

“Where…am I?” 

Claire then realized that Jim was barely conscious, and wasn’t listening to much anyways. She’d end up repeating herself a lot. 

She pushed his bangs out of his face and kissed his forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re nice and safe, babe.” 

Toby and Claire sat in silence as Jim continued to struggle to breathe. 

Thankfully, Barbara and Walt appeared not a minute later, with all sorts of goodies. 

“Alright kiddo, let’s get you all cleaned up. Claire, would you put on these gloves? I’d like you to clean the skin around his wound with these alcohol swabs while I set up the IV.” 

“On it Barb!” Claire got to work quickly, thankful to be able to do something to help. 

Walt set up the IV stand while Barbara prepared the needle and inserted it in Jim’s arm. 

“I hate that I have to use a thicker gauge needle, but your skin is so tough, kid.” 

Jim didn’t seem to even register what she was doing. 

Once the IV was in and taped in place, Barbara took out a thick gauze and started taping it in place on Jim’s chest. “The wound isn’t bleeding nearly as much as it should,” she stated, with a frown.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Asked Claire. 

“I’m thinking it’s because of the burns on him. They weren’t this bad at the hospital. He had been out in sunlight that day, but it was overcast and he had on long sleeves.” She taped down the gauze with medical masking tape. “No, this looks like...well, third degree on a human. Direct heat like flames or burning metal. I guess that would be a UV light for Jim.” 

“I’m going to hammer that lady into the ground,” Toby muttered.

“There, this should be good for now. I’ll bandage him again once Merlin cleans him up.” She rested a weak hand to her head. “Lord help me, I’m depending on Merlin.” 

Thankfully, news came by Claire’s phone, with an unknown number. 

“Hello?” 

“Claire? This is Douxie.” 

“Douxie! Please tell me you’re with Merlin!” 

“I am! Not that I can get his butt moving any faster. He briefed me on the situation, and I’ve been trying to rush him…but, you know how he is…” 

She could hear the old man shouting somewhere in the near distance. “Three days? Well he’ll be dead by then! No need for it by that time! You don’t have anything in stock?” 

Claire winced. “Where are you guys?” 

“At the hardware store, ummm you’re better off not knowing why for now. We’ll be at Trollmarket soon, I promise!” 

“Thank you. And thank you for calling. We were getting worried.” 

“How is he?” 

“Barely conscious. He’s on an IV with pain meds now…so he’ll be feeling a little better. He keeps trying to summon his amulet, but he doesn’t have the strength.” 

“Uh oh, he doesn’t have the amulet with him?” 

“No, the army wouldn’t give it back.” 

Douxie exhaled in a huff. “We’ll figure something out. Oh, Looks like Merlin found an alternative. We’ll be on our way soon!” 

“Great! See you!” And she ended the call. “Merlin should be coming soon!” 

“Thank goodness!” Barbara sighed. “Though it looks like Jim finally fell asleep. His pain is mostly managed…all we can do now is wait.” 

It felt like they were waiting hours. But there was not much else to do. 

Jim slept fitfully, occasionally opening his eyes to look around. It was clear he was exhausted, so he’d just close them again a moment later, and they heard his slow breathing. 

“This is torture,” said Claire. “But I can’t imagine what he’s been through.” 

“I hope that along with her discharge, that Kubritz lady does hard time in prison,” said Toby. 

“And I hope they do everything to her that she did to him,” Claire added, with venom. “If they don’t, I will.”

“I’ll back you up.” 

It was hard to share small talk, but just listening to Jim’s labored breathing and waiting felt like a terrible option. 

Finally, finally, Merlin’s horrible grating voice echoed through the Heartstone husk. “Hello? Is this where the injured Jim is?” 

“Yes!” Claire cried out. She was never so happy to hear that man’s voice. 

No really, most of the time, his appearance filled her with dread. 

Merlin and Douxie descended the stairs, arms full of plastic shopping bags. 

And it finally seemed like Merlin was done wasting time, as he spared no greetings and got busy examining Jim. He removed the blanket that covered his shoulder, and the temporary bandages Barbara applied. 

He cringed at the sight of the crater. “Yikes. That is quite the wound.” 

“Can you heal him?” Claire asked, afraid that he wasn’t up to the task. 

“Sure. No problem. Douxie, prepare the plaster.” 

“Plaster?” Barbara asked, with horror.

“Ugh, I know,” said the wizard. “Three days for expedited shipping for clay! Ridiculous! I thought the modern era was a time of immediate gratification! But no, the one time I need something quick, it’s a three day wait! Do they not know where the nearest clay deposits are?!” 

“Okay, but the plaster? What’s the deal with the plaster?!” 

“What else do you expect me to use to fill a wound in a troll?” 

“You’re going to pour plaster in his open wound?!” 

“Yes! And more!” He glanced over to the bucket Douxie was mixing in. “How’s it coming?” 

“Do you want it more watery, or thick?” 

“Thick without being too dry.” Then he turned back and leaned in close to Jim. “None of you are going to like what I’m about to do.” He pressed two fingers to Jim’s chest, and spoke, “imperium.” 

Jim’s eyes flashed open, wide, pupils expanded so the iris was just a hint of blue.

“Jim Lake Jr., summon your amulet,” Merlin commanded. 

Jim raised his hand up in the air slowly and spoke clearly, “for the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command.” 

Then Merlin let go, and Jim fell back into slumber, Claire having to catch his hand before it smacked him in the face. 

“What was that?” She asked. 

“I thought it was fairly obvious. A mind control spell. Very weak, only works on unconscious individuals within range.” 

“You know Mind Control?” Asked Toby, with some horror. 

“To a degree. As I said. It’s more like the power of suggestion. Morgana has learned how to fully possess someone’s mind, but I always preferred to use my natural charisma to persuade people.” 

Someone snorted. 

“The plaster is ready,” said Douxie. “Did you want to start with the strips?” 

“Yes,” he collected the tray Douxie had prepared. Mesh cloth strips sprayed with plaster, which created a base. Carefully, Merlin began to lay the strips in the hole in Jim’s chest, applying just enough pressure to adhere them and blend the edges. Once he had completely coated the inside, without filling the hole, he stopped.  

“There, now we’ll treat his burns. You said you had electricity down here?” 

“Uh, yeah. There’s an outlet on the wall next to you,” said Claire. 

“Perfect.” From his various bags, he took out a palm sander with a coarse paper on it. He plugged it in. “Now how do I work this thing?” 

“Why don’t you let me handle that while you use the file…” Douxie took the power tool away from him. “Claire, can you sit him up and lean against his back as a counter weight?”

“The file? I don’t want to use the file! I got this so you would use the file!”

“Merlin!” Barbara scolded. 

“Fine, I’ll use the file…better for fine detailing anyways.”

It was agonizing moments as Douxie buffed away the dried, burnt skin that came off like dust, while Merlin shucked off the chunks that were too thick for the sander. 

Jim, for the most part, only twitched and cried out on occasion, only when they got too close to fresh skin. 

Once he was rubbed raw and bright blue, a little bloody in some places, they stopped. 

“It’s like an extreme pumice stone,” Douxie tried to soothe, feeling guilty as Claire wiped her tears. “The skin affected by the sun, or UV lights or whatever, was solid stone and had to come  off.” 

“I know,” said Claire. “It was just…jarring.” 

“Alright, we’re almost done,” said Merlin, scrounging up some compassion. “You can recline him again, Fair Claire.” 

Gently, Claire laid him back down on the pillows. 

Merlin took the loose plaster and slopped a bit in the wound, trying to make up for the missing space. 

Then, from the stairs came a ‘plink, plunk, plink, plunk’ as the amulet rolled its way down and stopped at Merlin’s feet. “Got here faster than I anticipated. I’d love to see the damage it did on it’s way.” 

“I thought if someone stole the amulet, it wouldn’t come back?” Asked Toby. 

“Not unless it’s properly summoned. If it only chooses one Trollhunter, you think it would want to be anywhere else?” Merlin cleaned the amulet with a rag to a near mirror shine, before placing it back in its spot on Jim’s chest. 

“Can’t you just keep it out of him? What if something like this happens again?” 

“Then we’ll just have to buy more plaster,” shrugged Merlin. “Anyway, it’s better this way.” He smeared more plaster in the cracks and smoothed it with his hands, until the seam was perfectly even. 

“Now what?”

“The plaster should start to dry soon, and a chemical reaction will take place, putting off heat. Then I will start the incantation.”

“Why then?”

“Must everything I do be questioned?”

“Yes.” Said everyone, unanimously.

“Because I said so. That’s why.” He touched the plaster, careful not to jostle it, and waited for the heat to set in. “Alright, I suggest everyone stand back. You too, Claire, get behind me.” 

Claire scooted off the bed and stood back with Toby and Barbara, then they waited anxiously. 

“It’s going to look and sound painful, but a little bit of pain, and he’ll be all better.” Merlin’s hands glowed blue, interacting with the pulsing, ticking amulet. Instead of a one word spell, like he had been doing, Merlin muttered a fast string of words that sounded like nothing and everything at the same time. Lightning bolts skittered from his fingertips, and drew patterns on Jim’s flesh. 

Jim screamed and writhed as every bolt connected. They danced across the plaster, turning it to his hardened flesh as they moved. The hands on the amulet spun rapidly as the stone pulsed a violent blue. The wound from Morgana, lower on his chest, flickered orange like embers. The Heartstone glowed as well. 

Claire felt her hair stand on end and goosebumps rise to her skin. The magic in the room was deafening, blinding, and amazing.

Finally, Merlin halted, and only smoke remained. 

Jim breathed deep, quick breaths, like you would after a run. But it wasn’t labored or halted, like before. 

“Cl-Claire?” He asked, his voice stronger than it had been. 

She nearly tackled him. “Jim! Jim you’re alright!” 

He winced slightly as she collided with his raw skin, but hugged her anyway. “Where am I?” 

“You’re home!” 

“Home?” 

“It’s a long story. How do you feel?” 

“Tired, hungry…a little sore. I remember being in a lot of pain…” he looked down at his chest, touching the amulet in confusion. 

“Merlin just healed you,” she explained. “They hurt you pretty bad, huh?” 

He rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders. “No kidding.” 

“Well,” said Merlin, “my work here is done. I think I’m ready for a nap of my own.” 

“Thank you, Merlin,” Barbara said sincerely. “Thank you for saving my boy.” 

“Of course! You didn’t think I was going to leave my greatest warrior to die, did you? Oh, before I forget, I should probably give this back.” He handed a black wallet over to her. 

“Wait, whose is this?” 

“James’. I needed to pay for the sander somehow.” 

Barbara laughed. “Well, he’s not going to be happy about it, but glad to know he contributed to this too.” Then she muttered, “considering it’s all his fault in the first place.” 

By the end of the day, Jim was up. Not fully recovered, but enough to shuffle around. He was able to go to his mother’s house and take a shower, while Barbara changed the blood-stained, plaster dusted sheets. When he was all clean, he sat in the living room in his sweatpants, exhausted, and aching. 

“Blinky made you a salve, if you want me to put it on you,” Claire offered, holding up a little jar. 

“I’d love that.” 

She delicately rubbed it into his skin, like Aloe on a severe sunburn. Careful not to scratch him, but also wanting to make sure he was covered.

James walked past the room and halted. “Jim! You’re—you’re back!” 

Jim just glanced at the man. “And?”

“I just…um, look, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t know…that you ate trash. I would have made the drop for the cocaine somewhere else. I didn’t think—that’s not something people usually have to worry about, you know?”

“Yeah. Usually.” Jim said, stone cold. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Why do you care?”

“B-because you’re my son?” 

Jim couldn’t stifle the eye roll. “So NOW you think I’m your son? Where was that mentality when you pointed a shotgun at me?”

“I was in a severe crack withdrawal when I did that.” 

“And you’re just magically better now?”

James sat in an armchair opposite him. “I’m not going to say yes, but I’m better. I’m trying to get out of your and Babs’ lives, because I brought so much hurt in the first place. But…seeing what I’m missing out on—“ 

“No!” Jim snarled, standing up. “You don’t get to be sentimental now. You don’t get to change your mind. You suck! That’s all you’ve done! Mom’s moved on, I have men that are more fatherly than you could ever be if you tried! So just—finish your business and get lost!” He tried to step towards the basement, but he crumbled, still far too physically weak to walk on his own. 

“I got you,” Claire whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. “James,” she turned to look at him briefly. “I don’t know if you realized how crappy that thing you just said was. Don’t try to get Jim’s hopes up. He’s hurt, he’s upset, he’s vulnerable. So just stay away. If you truly want to be back in Jim’s life, don’t mention that you’re considering it. Back it up with action, or else you’ll just be disappointing us all when you go back. And as far as I know…your word is worthless.” She helped Jim walk slowly back to the basement, to the tunnel back to Trollmarket. 

“Trouble? I heard yelling,” said Draal.  

“No, no trouble. Thanks Draal,” Jim gave him a weak, affectionate punch. 

—

Many many miles away, a group of men watched the news, an old broadcast that one of them had snagged. 

“—The campaign worked perfectly! Now, hero to Arcadia, James Lake Jr. has been released from his wrongful imprisonment for his bizarre appearance, and returned home. Lake is hailed a local hero, as his acts of kindness and selflessness during a horrendous tornado in the area have become well known in the community as well as on social media. A parade in Lake’s honor is set for this weekend, as Lake has made a good progression in his recovery from captivity.”

“Okay, a kid was arrested because he looks weird. Not sure what the correlation is.” 

The leader of the pack smiled. “Oh, it’s such a subtle thing. We don’t care about the kid, or his deeds, or even the city of Arcadia really.” 

“Then…what?”

“Did you catch the boy’s name?”

“I…Lake? Like…”

“Jim Lake Jr. is what they said. Maybe a common name. But if there’s a Junior…perhaps there’s a Senior nearby.”

—

I have not seen Rise of the Titans (though I expect to watch it this weekend) but I heard it was…not good, story wise. So in this fic, I won’t be applying any of it. Probably. Unless something juicy catches my eye.

#toa #trollhunters #arcadia or bust #jim lake junior #claire nuñez #fanfiction #fanfic

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 4: Anxceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 4: There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been.

Content warning: parental death from heart attack (none of the sides), homophobia, religious themes regarding said homophobia, concert, minor sensory overload (Virgil is technically autistic but it’s not explicit).

Word count: 3.3k

The last thing Janus Natter had ever wanted to do was return to his hometown. 

It only held bad memories that stemmed from living in a small town, of homophobia and school bullies and dirty looks from neighbours. Granted, he’d never actually been kicked out of his home after coming out, but word spread like a wildfire and the people in his neighborhood weren’t the most open minded. His mom didn’t talk to him; she blamed herself, and there were all too many nights he walked past her room and heard her praying and crying for the repentance of her baby boy.

So the moment he turned eighteen, he was out of there. Waved goodbye to the woman who stiffened every time he tried to hug her and moved halfway across the country, starting a new life for himself in a rundown apartment and a minimum wage intern job and not regretting it for a second. Everything seemed better for a while. A promotion followed a couple years after, and his apartment was upgraded to one that actually had a separate kitchen and dining room so he wasn’t eating on the counter anymore. Until he got a call from one of his aunts at three am, four days after Christmas.

Obviously, he cried when his mom died. He broke down as soon as he hung up the phone, sitting on the edge of his bed and letting the news slowly integrate into his system. Sure, they hadn’t had the best relationship, but she’d been a great mom up until he admitted the truth that drove a wedge between them. And he’d never really blamed her, knowing his own internal homophobia would only be heightened in her. But it still hurt that she hadn’t reached out whatsoever when she was put into the hospital after the first heart attack. Maybe he would have been there when the second one hit and been able to save her. Or at least say goodbye.

The funeral was rough. None of his family bothered to talk to him, and the one little cousin that ran up to give him a hug was swiftly pulled away. Not like he was expecting much else, but c’mon. It’s not infectious. At least no one commented on him crying again. 

He was on the first flight back out, and after a couple days off work to recenter himself, things seemed to back to normal. It wasn’t as if any part of his daily routine was disturbed. He wasn’t missing any motherly catch up calls, no little packages, no life advice, that he’d never gotten before, so it was almost easy to pretend that nothing had changed. Until he got another call. 

This time it was his uncle, calling in the middle of his work day, to tell him that he needed to come back home and clear out his mom’s house. He was reluctant at first. Why couldn’t someone else do it? What was so important that he had to do it? But the family seemed determined to distance themselves from the house as much as possible, and when his uncle insisted that “we’re all still in mourning, Janus,” as if to imply he wasn’t upset at the death of his own mother, he hung up the phone with a curt agreement to come back as soon as possible. He later got a text that stated the house was going to be put on the market in the coming week, so he needed to get there soon. 

That’s what led to him exiting a cab three days later in front of his childhood home, suitcase in hand, with a disgruntled expression. The house was much less threatening than it had always seemed when he lived there, unassuming and indistinguishable from the other houses on the block, but the memories of lonely nights of crying himself to sleep and craving a hug from his mother were at the forefront of his mind. You’re never going to get another hug from her. He quickly snapped out of it before the tears could rise, thanking the cab driver and walking up to the front door. 

His mother had taken his key when he left, claiming it was to give to a neighbour to water her flowers when she went on a cruise or something equally far fetched, but Janus figured she just wouldn’t want to be surprised by him visiting. This was, afterall, the first time she’d been free from his disappointing presence in years. Luckily, they’d always kept a spare under the plant by the door, now wilted and crusty and dropping leaves when he leaned it over, hand slapping the concrete underneath.

Nothing.

He picked it up off the ground entirely, sweeping the ground directly under it and then scanning the surrounding area with growing irritation. Had someone taken it after the funeral? How the hell did they expect him to get into the house? Oh yeah, come clean the house but we’re gonna take the key! Fuckers. 

A loud crash from behind the door startled him enough to drop the plant, the ceramic pot smashing on the stairs. Whoops. Another sound from inside, something that sounded like a chair scraping on the tiled kitchen floor, and Janus realized with mounting horror that the front door was open a crack. His family had all claimed to not be able to even come near the place, so… Fantastic. Someone had broken into a death house and he was going to have to deal with it. 

The wise choice would have been to call the police. 

So Janus pushed the door open and walked in, ignoring the sudden flurry of memories in favor of following the source of the noise. 

“Hello?” Yeah, smart, Janus, that always works in the horror movies!

Another scrape in the steadily approaching kitchen, accompanied by muffled swearing. As an almost last thought, Janus picked up the first small object he could feel on the entry table, acknowledging its heft and hoping it would be a suitable weapon without taking his eyes from the hall. Here goes nothing.

Then, in a move to top all stupidity, he turned into the room in a whirl, hoisting the weapon above his head, ready to beat down on whoever was rifling through his dead mother’s drawers. Only to freeze.

“Remus?”

“Janus, what the fuck!” The statement was said with a surprising amount of glee. Remus was the only person he knew who could turn swears into something joyful. 

Janus turned his gaze to the floor and the chair Remus was standing on, surrounded by a pile of glass shards. It looked to be the remnants of the entire glass collection, if the amount was anything to go by. Remus gave another shuffle of his chair, the loud shriek sounding again, as he tried to scooch closer without stepping on the shards in his bare feet.

“Why are you holding a banana?” 

It took him a solid second to process Remus’ question before he looked down at his own hand, his fingers curled around the metal banana from the decorative fruit bowl in the entry. 

“No reason. Why are you in my house, destroying my dinnerware?”

“Help me not step in glass and I’ll tell you.”

Finding a broom was easy; it was still in the same place it always had been before he left. Cleaning the glass took longer, what with Remus’ flurry of questions and Janus’ focus between answering him, sweeping, and not whacking Remus on the head with the broom handle. Apparently it didn’t take long for him to become annoying again.

Still, the grinning man had been the one and only reason he’d had trouble saying goodbye to the town, the only person who still gladly befriended him after coming out. He hated to admit how much he’d missed him.   

When the floor was clear, Remus hesitantly stepped down off the chair, wiggling his toes on the ground.

“Why did you take your shoes off when you came in? It’s not like anyone’s gonna be pissed if you track mud in anymore.”

“I didn’t wear any.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

Remus shared a softer look with him, the manic smile drooping, “Hey, I’m sorry about your mom. That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” Was Janus’ incredibly eloquent response. He shook his head, and Remus accepted the subject change with no questions, “So why are you here?”

“Well, I heard you were coming to clear the place out eventually, so I thought I’d get here early and start. Help you out.”

“And…”

“... And snoop around a little bit.”

“There it is.”

“Not like, bad stuff! Just… I don’t know. Deep, dark, family secrets.”

Janus sighed, taking in the kitchen for the first time since entering. “The biggest secret this family tries to hide is me.”

“Dark.”

“Mmhm.” He gasped as two arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into the most physical contact he’d had in… years.

“Welcome back, Natter.”

“Yeah, well,” He cleared his throat of voice cracks before continuing, “I only got two days off work. So I’m not staying long. I somehow need to completely clear this place out in 48 hours,” He ran a hand down his face, pulling away from the hug reluctantly, “You wouldn’t actually be interested in helping, would you?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Remus ignored it completely. “You’re only here two days? Inconceivable!”

“You’ve been watching Princess Bride again.”

“We gotta hang out!” The pleading expression on Remus’ face was almost enough to sell him on the idea.

“Weren’t you listening? I literally don’t have the time.”

“I’m going to a concert tonight in Brookton. Come with me!” Remus continued as if he hadn’t spoken, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just one night, Jan. Pleeeease? I’ll even come here and help you the rest of the time.”

With an affectionate snort, he shook his head, “As fun as that sounds, I’m broke.”

“I can get you in.”

“You’re not paying for me.”

“Who said anything about paying?”

Janus raised an eyebrow, though it was more like how a parent would scold a child than surprise. They’d always gotten into trouble together as kids, and this was just… a level up, in a way. Not that he condoned it.

“I know one of the security guards. He’s one of my hookups, and he happens to owe me a favor or two.”

  Wait. “You’re gay?”

“Shit, I didn’t tell you?!” Remus shrieked, grabbing Janus’ hand and dragging him to the front door, key waving in his face, “I’ll tell you all about it on the way. C’mon, it’s an hour drive.”

Well, looks like he didn’t have a say in it. And he’d be lying if he claimed he hadn’t missed hanging out with his old best friend… or just a friend at all, really.

“Fine, but you’re stopping by your place to grab shoes!”

-----------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t a small venue by any means. It wasn’t Beyonce big, but enough to know that if he lost track of Remus, he’d be fucked. In his rush out the door so soon after a morning of traveling, he’d forgotten his charger and his phone was conveniently dead. Janus kept a careful eye on Remus, following the bob of his neon green and black jacket through the crowd and only distantly wondering what band they were actually about to see. The gremlin kept pushing through, ignoring the annoyed shouts of people he shoved, leaving Janus to hastily apologize each time as he followed in his wake.

When Remus slowed just for a moment, stretching on his tiptoes to find a good spot over the sea of heads, Janus lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. The taller man raised an eyebrow.

“As fun as it would be to get lost, I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah,” Remus’ eyes settled on a spot near the stage, one that Janus couldn’t see being a head shorter than him, “Good timing. Hang on tight.”

And hang on he did, because Remus fully embodied the physicality of a snow plow and plunged back into the crowd with new ferocity. Janus just closed his eyes and blindly let himself be led, letting the bubbling breathiness of a laugh escape his mouth. It had been too long since he’d just been able to have fun like this, without the threat of work and bills in his peripheral. The chatter was deafening in the best way possible, drowning out his worried thoughts, and the flashing lights that were still visible through his closed eyelids was invigorating. The promise for more elated him. 

When Remus finally stopped, Janus didn’t get the memo on time and ran into his back full force. He grunted and opened his eyes, focused on his throbbing nose, before realizing how close to the stage they really were. The taller man was staring down at him, grinning maniacally, seemingly impressed with their placement as well. 

Then a flash to the side caught his attention, and his throat went dry.

“Remus, look me in the eye and tell me you see that.”

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion before he followed Janus’ line of sight, seeing nothing but the dense crowd. “See what?”

“The light, the light trail…” Janus inhaled sharply through his nose, grip on the other’s sleeve tightening, “It’s my soulmate. He’s here somewhere.”

“Your soulmate? Seriously?”

“Yeah, I…”

“Well, fuck! You’re welcome, eh, Natter? I told you you should have come!” He gave Janus’ arm a light punch, smile widening. “Go find him!”

Janus seemed hesitant, eyes flickering between Remus and the deep purple light trail, weaving between the people and heading towards the back of the venue. “How will I find you again after?”

“That’s a problem for future you. Go, you idiot!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going! Just don’t leave without me!”

He was off before he could hear Remus’ answer, ducking under raised arms and trying his hardest to follow the quickly dissolving trail. Now that he had his eye on it, it had decided that it was time to disappear, and he was quickly losing sight of it. 

No, scratch that, it was definitely getting brighter now. And more concrete around the edges, instead of fading out. Was he close? He weaved past another small group of people, eyes following the purple line until-

There.

Holy shit.

He was stunning, that was the first thing Janus noticed. The purple trail stopped at him, covering him with a faint lilac aura before fading completely, content with it’s work. At first he thought the slight tint to the other’s hair was left over from the soulmark, before the lights switched and he realized, no, his hair was dyed purple. The most eye catching thing, though, besides his makeup, was the bulky pair of… were those headphones on his ears? At a concert? Granted, it hadn’t started yet, but still.

Apparently he was standing in one place for too long amongst the constantly moving hoard of people, and his stillness got the attention of the boy in front of him. He gasped sharply when they made eye contact, shocked from what Janus assumed to be the soulmark that probably surrounded him. And then he started hyperventilating. Bad.

“Shit! Okay, hey, calm down, okay? It’s fine-”

He was cut off by a loud riff of an electric guitar, almost immediately drowned out by the screaming fans that surged forward like a tidal wave. The boy in front of him curled in on himself, hands pressing into the headphones around his ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. Despite his more cautionary side, Janus reached forward and took his arm, guiding him gently towards the door.

“Let’s go outside and talk, alright?”

Maybe following a stranger outside alone wasn’t the smartest idea but… Virgil had seen the soul mark, a gentle yellow glow around this man that quickly dissipated, leaving behind a man sharing an equally shocked look on his face. So that had to mean he wasn’t totally bad, right? Either he was his soulmate or some kind of guardian angel, and neither of those were necessarily bad options. 

As soon as they stepped outside the main arena, it was as if the tight band around Virgil’s chest loosened. Not gone completely, but enough that he could catch his breath. He reached up and pulled his ear defenders off his head, relieved that the quiet was enough that he didn’t need them anymore. They were definitely a life saver, but sometimes the way they muffled noise was indescribably uncomfortable as well.

The man noticed his immediate relief, letting go of his guiding arm and slowing his pace so Virgil could walk beside him. 

“I’m Janus.” 

“Virgil.”

In a blur, they ended up outside the venue, sitting on the curb directly outside the main doors. Virgil was fiddling with his ear muffs, eyes trained on the inky darkness surrounding them. Besides the dull resounding of the bass echoing from inside and steady stream of traffic just out of their view, it was reasonably quiet.

“So, you live in Brookton?” Janus finally broke the comfortable silence, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah. Not for long, though.”

“Oh?”

“Planning to get out soon. Don’t know where, don’t know how. But I’m not much of a ‘small town’ guy.”

“Brookton counts as a small town?”

Virgil hummed, finally placing the head gear down beside him and closing his eyes, breathing in the smell of fast food from the variety of food trucks around the area. It was a strange cacophony of oil and salt, oddly enticing even if just the scent was enough for his skin to break out. 

“What about you? From around here?”

“Sort of?” He explained his story in as few words as possible, flying over his mom’s general unacceptance and her death, and the fact that he had to clean out her house in two days. “Less than that now, I guess. One and a half. It’s gonna be hell.” His head fell into his hands, fingers rubbing at the temples as if to soothe the headache he was expecting.

Virgil was a good listener, nodding along to the right parts and avoiding those stupid sympathetic looks he was so tired of. It was a nice relief to actually feel listened to, not pitied. 

“My parents are kind of similar. It doesn’t feel like I have much to complain about, though, because… I mean, they didn’t kick me out. Don’t openly hate on me. But it still sucks. They don’t even acknowledge me half the time.”

“Exactly! And then you see people who have it worse, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit for feeling upset!”

“Good match, universe.” Virgil flopped onto his back, purple hair splayed out on the concrete. “It’s the subtle homophobia for me.”

“Ah, you’re a ‘meme person’.”

“Sucks for you, you’re stuck with me now.”

“I’ll manage,” Janus joined him on the ground, suddenly disgusted that he was still in the same outfit that he’d flown in today. He hated the smell of plane, and he must reek of it. But Virgil didn’t seem to mind his general disheveled appearance as he made an abstract comment about the moon being full today, and how that generally meant bad things. Janus made the mistake of asking him what he meant, which turned into a full blown lecture on mythology and cryptids, one that Virgil didn’t have the capability to control. It made him smile though, seeing the emo so utterly delighted to explain it, and he realized with a start that he was going to get to enjoy this man for the rest of his life. Two people who could talk, matched with a person who loved to listen equally as much. Virgil had been right. Good match, universe.

#virgil definitely comes over and helps him clean the house the next day #but i wanted to leave it here #lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #soulmate september #soulmateseptember #ts soulmate au #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #anxceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction

[sparrow-flies-south]

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Pairings: Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil) Summary: Virgil has a bad day. Remus makes things better, in his own way. Warnings: One line mention of transphobic relatives,  Notes: Written as a gift for @rem-sl33p as part of @sanderssidesgiftxchange! 

Thanks to @droidofmay for beta reading

Masterpost Read on AO3

It was one of those days that started off bad and got worse from there.

First, Virgil had slept through his alarm, and only woke up when Remus realised it was five minutes until he had to leave and he still wasn’t up yet. He managed to make it to work on time, but only barely. The same couldn’t be said for one of his coworkers, who didn’t bother showing up at all, so Virgil had to do the work for both of them.

And then there had been the rush of people trying to buy presents in time for Christmas, and his manager, who was exceptionally grumpy today, had kept snapping at Virgil for not doing things fast enough, even though he was doing the work of two people.

Then he’d been late leaving, so he’d missed his bus and had to wait in the cold for the next one – it started snowing, what the fuck – and then Remus had stopped answering his texts.

It took him a few stops to notice, and sure, Remus could get distracted sometimes, but what if he wasn’t. Look, Virgil knew what he was like, okay, he knew he could be an asshole at the best of times, and today certainly wasn’t one of those times. He scrolled back through the messages to try to see if he’d done anything wrong – was Remus annoyed he’d be late back, should he not have replied with that whole novel when Remus asked what was wrong, what if he’d gotten offended when Virgil replied K to one of Remus’ texts?

Yeah, he ended up with three more stops of panicking about that, before finally making it home. Theatrics really wasn’t his thing, but when he saw his door come into sight, he was about ready to burst into tears from relief.

Not that being home would solve the potential Remus problem, but still, he might be able to disappear under the covers and never came out after.

He was just about to open the door when it opened for him, and Janus stepped out.

Janus’ eyes widened –apparently he hadn’t known Virgil was out there. “Ah, Virgil. Hello.”

Normally Virgil would be happy to see Janus – they’d met in the same local trans group, and Janus had been the one to introduce Virgil to Remus, all those years ago – but right now, he just wanted this day to be over.

“What are you doing here?” Virgil asked.

A moment of hesitation, and then, “Remus and I are having an affair.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Congratulations. Can I get into my apartment now?”

Janus stepped aside. “I heard you had a long day.”

“Getting longer by the minute,” Virgil muttered, and crap, now he was doing the asshole thing again.

Janus just smiled, though. Probably because Janus was also an asshole, so it balanced out. “If you need help with that, let me know.”

Virgil rolled his eyes again. “Janus, when I complained about my cousins being transphobic, you told me to push them down the stairs.”

“I object to that, your honour,” Janus said. “The technical wording was ‘nudge’. And it’s advice that can be applied in many aspects of life.”

“Good bye Janus,” Virgil said, reaching for the door. He hesitated. “Hey, Janus? Did Remus seem, uh, annoyed? At me, I mean.”

Janus’ face softened. “Oh, Virgil,” he said. “Answering yes would be a lie too big for even me.”

Janus left, and Virgil was stuck staring at the door. This was fine. Janus had said Remus wasn’t mad, in his roundabout way of doing so. Unless Janus had lied, which he was prone to do, but not in situations like this. Or unless Remus had been hiding it from Janus, because Virgil and Janus were friends-

Okay, even Virgil could tell he was being ridiculous at that moment. All he had to do to figure out if Remus was mad or not was open the door. Then either everything would be fine, and Virgil could try to forget about his shit day, or Remus would tell him that he was upset.

Which would also be fine. Probably. Hopefully.

“Fuck it,” he muttered at last. He swung the door open, because that way he had to go inside, otherwise Remus might see and know that he was lurking in the corridor like a weirdo.

He managed to take one step over the threshold before freezing.

The room was dark – the lights were turned off, and the curtains were drawn – but Remus had strung up fairy lights, which let out a gentle red glow. As for the rest of the room-

“Are those the Halloween decorations?”

“Fuck,” Remus said, from where he was knelt in front of the TV. “I was meant to hear you coming.”

Fake cobwebs had been hung on the walls, and a cluster of fake pumpkins surrounded the TV. Sat on the sofa was the skeleton Remus had stolen when he’d worked at a haunted house. Fake animal skeletons were dotted around the place – an anatomically incorrect spider on the TV stand; a rat with ear bones on the coffee table; a snake on the arm of the sofa.

Remus quickly got up and hurried to Virgil. “Okay, so, you were meant to be blindfolded at this point.”

“Hard pass,” Virgil muttered,

“And I would be holding your hand, like this-“ Remus reached out and took it. Just the press of contact made Virgil feel better, like some of the day was sliding away from him. He shifted closer to Remus – probably more than needed, but the smell of Remus’ cologne let him know that nothing could touch him here.

“And then I’d take the blindfold off, and you’d say-“

“Is that the Halloween decorations?” Virgil repeated.

Remus grinned, andVirgil’s heart squeezed at the sight. “Okay, so, I want you to have the best day ever, and I figured, what day could possibly be better than Halloween?”

Virgil laughed, because that was so incredibly Remus.

“I even got candy!” Remus added. “Or, well, Janus did. He says hi, by the way.”

“I know, I saw him. How did you even have time to do all this?”

“Eh, I’m fast when I want to be,” Remus said with a wave of his hand.  “But, hey, you haven’t even seen the best part!”

Remus dragged Virgil into the room and to the sofa. Virgil followed, because there was no good trying to stop Remus when he was like this – if you tried, you’d just drive yourself crazy. Virgil had long since learned to just grab hold of Remus’ momentum, and wait to see whether he’d end up in a nerf gun war or trying to make the Best Birthday Cake Ever ™.

(Fortunately, Patton hadn’t minded the mess that one had resulted in.)

“Let me guess,” Virgil joked. “You’ve killed every annoying customer from today.”

“Oh, shit,” Remus said. “I didn’t even think of that. We could release them all into a forest and hunt them for sport.”

“Let’s table that idea for later,” Virgil suggested.

Remus pouted. “Fine.” He brightened again, “But look what I planned for tonight!”

Virgil looked to the TV, which already had films queued up to watch.

“Velocipastor,” Virgil read aloud. “Cat People; Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. These are all terrible.”

“I know, right? We can make fun of them together.”

“You mean I can make fun of them,” Virgil corrected. “You will spend the whole time trying to figure out how to recreate the practical effects.”

“Hey, that’s my biggest hobby. Just like how insulting things is yours.”

“We make such a good couple,” Virgil deadpanned, before freeing his hand from Remus’ grip so he could stick them both in his pockets. What he was about to say next was sappy, and Virgil didn’t do sappy. “Seriously, though, thanks. For all of this. You didn’t have to.”

Remus looked confused. “What do you mean?” he asked, as if Virgil had just told him he didn’t have to breathe. Like the thought of not going out of his way to cheer Virgil up hadn’t occurred to him, never mind that Virgil was always having bad days that put him on edge and made him unpleasant to be around.

“I mean, it was just a crappy day,” Virgil said. “Not the end of the world.”

Even if, sure, there had been times when it had felt like the end of the world.

“But I don’t want you to have crappy days,” Remus said petulantly.

“Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that. That’s just- kinda the way I am.”

“I know,” Remus said. “And I love the way you are, except for how you sometimes think you’re not a good person, because I kind of want to fight the parts of you that say. But I also want to give them a hug and tell them that everything will be okay, which is kind of terrifying, actually, because wow, I am not an ‘everything will be okay’ kind of person. More of a let’s brainstorm how to make things worse kind of person.” Remus blinked, apparently realising his train of thought had gotten so far off the rails it had destroyed a small town, and shrugged. “Anyway, I want to make your bad days better, but I’m not as good at this kind of thing as you are, so-“

“Wait,” Virgil interrupted. “What do you mean not as good at this as me? I’m rubbish at – pretty much everything involving emotions, basically.”

Along with everything else, some part of him whispered, but he ignored it. The part was quieter than it had been all day, anyway.

“But you’re not!” Remus protested. “I know you’re not, because when everything goes wrong and my thoughts are too loud, you’re always there. And you make things better, just by being there. So that’s why I’m doing this. To make things better, because you deserve better.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, unsure what to say. It was terrifying, at times, the depth of Remus’ love. Like standing at the edge of the Grand Turk drop-off and watching the ocean fall away beneath you.

“Yeah,” Remus finished, smiling sheepishly. “So, uh, I panicked and decided to recreate Halloween in the middle of December. Surprise.”

And then Virgil couldn’t stop himself from laughing, because only Remus would even think to do something like that. And only Remus would manage to pull it off so well.

“So, uh, are we done with the emotional thing now?” Remus asked. “Because we’d better get started if we want to finish these movies by tomorrow.”

“Fuck yeah, emotional time is over,” Virgil said, wiping at his eyes. “But, uh,” he hesitated, something squeezing his chest and whispered he won’t want to. He’ll think you’re pathetic. Virgil pushed it down. “Can we cuddle, first? Just for a little while?”

“Of course,” Remus said. He held out his arms, and Virgil melted into them.

Remus was warm, because he was always warm, and he smelled like the too-strong cologne he always wore, the only that Remus had once joked was Pickled Poo-Logs flavour. One of his hands reached up to run his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“I got ya, Fright Night,” he murmured. “I love you.”

Virgil’s heat skipped at that, the way it always did, because some part was always convinced that this was it, this was the point where Remus would decide to just stop loving him. And every time, Remus proved that part wrong, without even realising what he was doing.

“I love you too,” Virgil mumbled, and then the waterworks opened, and he couldn’t stop crying.

“Ah, shit,” Remus said. “Did I do something? Fuck, I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

“You gave me Halloween,” Virgil said, smacking him lightly. “Don’t you dare act like you could have done something wrong. That’s – fuck, that’s probably the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Okay, we’re going to have to have a conversation about the height of that bar later,” Remus said, and Virgil snorted and buried his face into Remus’ chest. “For now, uh, let it all out, I guess? Better out than in, I always say, though I normally say that about something else.”

“Thanks,” Virgil muttered, but the tears were already starting to ease off. He stayed where he was, nestled against Remus, able to feel the rhythmic rise and fall of Remus’ breathing.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides gift exchange 2020 #dukexiety #virgil sanders #tss virgil #remus sanders #tss remus #my fic

[hati-writes]

Bruised Scales

When one side injures another, they aren’t allowed to forget it. Logan’s treatment by Janus and Patton has some...lasting effects.

This idea got some traction and interest so I figured I’d write a short piece for it. I’m so happy that people seemed to like the idea!

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24296698

The days after the Wedding were tense and awful for everyone. Usually Patton was the one to help everyone with the emotional fallout over something like this. Now he just felt useless, as though anything he touched would just go wrong in some terrible unmanageable manner. How many times could he mess up and be forgiven? Roman’s exhausted and dispirited eyes told him he still had a lot more apologising to do, Virgil’s nervous fidgeting was a constant reminder that everyone was still hurting and he didn’t know how to fix it; Janus’ quiet presence around was proof that Thomas was changing and growing and Patton was somehow holding him back and Logan...Logan was still wearing a black turtleneck. He hadn’t once mentioned that Patton had skipped him, hadn’t even bothered to protest what had happened after his final biting message in the video. And Patton had a sinking suspicion that Janus wouldn’t have been able to take Logan like that if he hadn’t skipped him. It made sense didn’t it? Patton had denied the truth and that had brought Janus into the video.

He put the pancakes carefully on the plate and drizzled sauce over them, trying to make it look like a star. Emotions might be high at the moment and Patton might feel that everything he touched would fall apart, but he was still Morality, still the Heart of them all; he had to keep trying, had to keep trying to make everyone else happy. Then maybe he would feel happy again too.

Pancakes in hand he climbed the stairs up to Logan’s room, forcing a smile on his face. He knocked at the Logical side’s door and heard a sleepy ‘come in’. It was a little early he supposed but it did seem Logan was awake! Slightly more optimistic he nudged the door open and stepped into the room. Pale blue walls painted with stars, a large well organised desk and bookshelves whose books were different each time you looked at them. 

Logan was sitting at his desk, chin propped up on his hand as he typed one handedly on the computer. Several empty cups of coffee were scattered around and Patton could see his bed tucked in the corner with it’s sheets rumpled and strewn about. It seemed that Logan had had a disturbed night and decided to work through it.

“Patton? What do you require?”

“Logan! I brought breakfast! I know you haven’t been eating enough so I figured I’d bring it to you!”

“I’m...not hungry.” Logan’s voice lacked inflection, still looking at his work rather than anything else.

“Awww, c’mon Kiddo! Everyone needs to eat.”

“Technically we’re just figments of the imagination, we don’t need to-”

“Logan, you can’t keep hiding up here. You’ve barely come out of your room in a week. Here, I made your favourites!”

Logan still wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t wearing his new turtleneck now either, and it was a relief for Patton to see him in his usual shirt and necktie. The moral side stepped closer, were there still bruises on Logan’s neck? His stomach twisted, this was his fault. Still his fault. He’d skipped Logan, he’d ignored logic and facts just because he didn’t like them and Logan had got hurt in the process. Suddenly that rush of positive energy he’d felt that had buoyed him up enough to try and reconnect with Logan fled, leaving Patton feeling exhausted and guilty. Why did he keep messing up? He put the plate of pancakes on the desk and turned to leave, at least he would have got Logan some food. Perhaps it was better simply to remove his presence, Logan would come down when he was ready.

Then something caught his eye and he turned back, curious. Logan still hadn’t even looked up at him, focusing on whatever he was typing and stifling a yawn. The bruises looked...different. Patton had seen plenty of bruises in his life, from the ‘real’ ones on Thomas to the myriad of bruises Roman would end up with on his frequent adventures or whenever Thomas’ ego got badly knocked about. Logan’s bruises had already lasted longer than expected, but now they looked odd. A neat line, no smudging or fading, the colour was a dark blue with a grey undertone and there was the faintest sheen to it. Patton had never seen bruises like it...he leaned forward, trying to make out what was going on and Logan seemed to become aware of what Patton was looking at.

In less than a second he had sprung up, trying futily to clever the marks while he stood up, reaching for the turtleneck slung over the back of the chair. He looked almost panicked, and slightly...ashamed?

“Logan? What is that?”

“It’s nothing Patton, just forget about it.” He tugged the turtleneck on, covering the marks up.

“That’s not nothing! Lo, why do you have scales around your neck!”

“I don’t-”

“I’m moral Logan, not blind. Please?”

“Patton…” Logan sighed, reaching up to adjust his glasses and not meeting Patton’s eyes. The pancakes sat between them, slowly cooling. “You don’t need to know, you don’t want to know.”

“I do need to know Logan, if something’s hurting you I need to know about it.” Patton kept his voice soft and gentle, as though he were dealing with a frightened animal. The worry was making his throat tight with apprehension and his hands were trembling slightly but he did his best to conceal it, if Logan got too overwhelmed he might vanish off somewhere and Patton definitely didn’t want that. What was going on and why hadn;t he noticed it before?

“They don’t hurt.”

“So they are scales then.”

Logan didn’t deny it and Patton took that as admittance.

“Lo, what happened? Did Janus do something?” Janus was a light side now, and Thomas had accepted him and Patton knew he only had Thomas’ best interests in mind, but it was still all too easy to suspect him, especially of something like this! Logan barked a tired laugh, shoulders slumping as he accepted the fact that he couldn’t hide this anymore.

“In a way, but it wasn’t his fault. Not really.”

“Then...who’s fault was it?”

“You want to know?” Logan looked up at Patton for the first time in this conversation and Patton felt his heart sink at just how dead Logan’s eyes looked, exhausted and empty and just devoid of the warmth and intelligence and life that used to fill them.

“Yes. I need to know, I need to know so I can help you!”

“You did it Patton.”

“What?”

“You did it.” Logan was speaking a little faster now, as though he was saying words he’d been wanting to say for a while and had been keeping walled up away from everyone. “You skipped my points, my comments, my contribution. You wouldn’t let me help Thomas just because it wasn’t suiting your own agenda, and that let Janus come in.”

“But-”

“And Janus hooked me around my neck!” Logan’s fists were clenched as he stared straight at Patton, but his expression looked oddly...resigned? “Janus hooked me around my neck and it bruised. But after a couple of days the bruises turned into scales and all my research suggests it’s permanent. So it seems we have another ‘evil slimy boy’ in our midst. Because when one of us deliberately harms another, we aren’t allowed to forget it.”

“I didn’t harm you, that was Janus!”

“Janus wasn’t trying to harm me though, he just wanted to move me out of the way. You were the one who harmed me Patton. You went out of your way to not only ignore, but physically prevent me from speaking.” Logan gave a bitter laugh, “Possibly the scales are more a collar to remind me not to speak than bruises caused by Janus’ unorthodox maneuver.”

“I...I did this?”

“Yes Patton. Sometimes actions have consequences. Even if you didn’t mean them too.” Logan’s anger and energy drained away and he sat back in his chair. “Don’t bother with the apologies. I’m well aware you didn’t intend this to happen. But the fact is that you did intend to physically force me to shut up.”

“Logan, I…”

“I said don’t apologise Patton. There’s no point.”

“I…”

“Thank you for the breakfast, I’m sure it will taste good. Now if you don;t mind I have work to do.”

With that Patton found himself being firmly pushed out of Logan’s room until he was staring at a closed door. He raised a hand to knock, desperate to make everything alright again but then froze. His earlier words to Thomas were echoing in his mind, just how many times could he mess up and still be forgiven? Sometimes actions had consequences, he knew that, he did! He just...he’d been so desperate to try and protect Thomas he hadn;t even...he’d hurt Logan...he’d...he’d…

Patton slumped to his knees, a sob welling up in his throat. He just wanted everyone to be happy, he just wanted...he just...

@sidespromptblog

#my writing #sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #bruised scales au #logan angst #thomas sanders #ficlet

[friesforfreedom]

Unspiraling- Part 2: Are You Alright?

Word Count: 992

Warnings: Non-graphic/serious burns

Summary: Janus is slowly getting more concerned by Logan’s odd behavior.

Previous   Next   Masterpost

“I must say padre, your pancakes are worth fighting for.” Roman commented. “Aww, thanks kiddo. I learn from the best! Although…what’s taking Janus so long? Isn’t he just checking on Logan?”, “Heh, maybe he died in his search.” Virgil remarked, then realized the odds of that happening.

“Man, you guys worry about Janus like he can’t take care of himself.” Remus spurted out from his spot.

“Well, it’s just that he’s only checking on Logan. Why would he take so long!”

___________________________________________________________

Janus’s fear and concern heightening, he called out for Logan again. “Logan, Logan! Come on snap out of it!” When Logan proved to still be out of it, Janus smacked him right over the face.

“Wuh, gah! Janus, what are you doing here? I hardly recall allowing you in.” Logan lowered his tone, expression becoming tense, “Though, I hardly recall many things at the moment.”

Logan rubbed his temples, “What exactly happened?”, “Heh, why don’t you tell me that. All I can tell you is I’ve never seen such a thing before.” Janus sat down next to him. “And that’s my full honesty.”

Janus’ expression changed, “But…do you feel alright?” His tone was soft, and his voice was calming. “You know, I really wish I could say yes right now.”

___________________________________________________________

Virgil’s tension seemed to lighten, “Maybe I’m being a little irrational.” Roman let out a quick chuckle, “A little?”

“Kiddo, y’know there’s no real way for them to get hurt or die. Unless…well, you know.” Patton motioned to Virgil. Virgil looked away and nodded in agreement. “But either way, they are both too rational to go ducking out on us.”

“And think of the timing. They both just decide to quit on us at the exact same time, that doesn’t sound like something they’d do.” Roman reasoned.

___________________________________________________________

“Has this happened before?” Janus asked, “No. Which makes it far more confusing.”, “I see…”

Logan stood up, “I should probably get dressed though, we have an important day ahead of us. I’d prefer to circle back on this topic later.”

“Woah Logan, this seems pretty serious. I don’t feel it would be healthy to come back to it later.” Janus stood up.

“I know, but I feel it’d be better for us to get this important day over, then find out what the problem could be.” Logan pushed back his hair, “Now where did my glasses go?”

Logan only took a few steps, stopping as he heard a crack from underneath his foot. He did nothing but let out a big sigh.

Janus winced slightly upon seeing what happened to Logan. He watched as Logan picked up his glasses.

The right lense seemed to be the only one cracked. But it was really cracked. It had a large one going from the frame to the middle of the glasses. And a small one coming slightly off the frame.

Logan put his glasses on and sighed again, “Well, this is a minor set back. But I shall manage.”

Janus could see the major disappointment in Logan’s entire face. Apparently Logan breaking his glasses was enough for Janus to forget what he was doing, since the next thing he remembered Logan was bolting out of the room in a controlled speed walk.

____________________________________________________________

At this point everyone downstairs had finished their breakfast, and were now chatting or just sitting there.

Logan descended the stairs as fast as humanly possible in the safest way he could manage. Almost falling twice.

“Hey Lo, what took you so long?” Patton asked, looking away from Roman. The blearing shock that came after he looked up made Logan feel a little self conscious about the crack in his glasses.

Though before Patton could ask what happened, Remus popped up, “Hey specks, what happened to the good ‘ole eye shields?” Sadly, this made Virgil and Roman look over as well.

At this point, Janus was downstairs joining them. Logan stood there for a moment, they could practically see the gears turning in his head. “There was some minor practication, and my glasses ended as the victim.”

Not accepting responses, Logan walked past them into the kitchen. He grabbed for the coffee cup after putting two slices of bread in the toaster.

Virgil finally decided to break the silence, “So…we got a video today? What’s it gonna be on again?” He said to no one in particular, picking at his arm.

“I am to believe that today we will be going over the problems with Thomas’ intrusive thoughts.” Logan said without a second thought, starting to pour his coffee.

“Actually, today we will be going over a new occurring problem, if I may correct you, dear logic.” Roman smirked.

Logan paused, he didn’t expect to be corrected so early in the morning, or at all. Even worse is that Roman had done so. Logan hadn’t realized he was staring for uncomfortably long.

“Umm…Logan?” A voice said kind of urgently. Logan looked over to the source of the voice, Janus.

“What? Is something wrong?” Janus gave him an odd look, like he should already know the problem. “Y-your hand.”

Logan looked down at his hand to see he was still pouring his coffee. Although his cup was full, and the fresh coffee was burning his left hand.

“Hmm…” Logan didn’t know how to respond. It didn’t even really hurt, “It’s alright, I’ll clean up the mess.” He said nonchalantly.

Everyone stood in silence with concern drawn on their faces. Janus walked over to Logan, “Come on let’s get your hand bandaged.” He pulled Logan away from the kitchen as Patton went to clean up the coffee. Janus pulled Logan in closely, and spoke to him in a low tone.

“We need to talk.” Logan knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. But all he wanted to do was avoid the conversation until everything important was out of the way.

Logan spoke back in a similar way to Janus’, “Fine.”

#sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #unspiralingtsau #writing #sanders sides fic

[fakeloveaskblog]

(Hi, me again. I’m glad to see that Virgil’s not here for nefarious reasons and is in fact trying to do the right thing.)

Okay so I’m going to split myself again to inform Janus what’s going on while I talk to Virgil.

Virgil, first off I want to take a moment to say how proud I am of you for coming here to get Janus instead of getting Remy on your own. Remy’s been struggling to adjust to… life I guess? Outside of the abuse. They ran off a few days ago because… well that’s probably not for me to say. Just know that them leaving is nothing to do with Janus doing anything to them and more a byproduct of the years of abuse.

I’m currently explaining to Janus why your here, ghost magic don’t question it, I’m not sure exactly how they’ll respond but I’d imagine that they care about Remy more than they hate you so he’ll probably agree to come with you.

Hey Janus so I just talked to Virgil.

*relays what Virgil said and explains why he’s here*

What do you want to do?

Glow Eyes

Virgil rolled his eyes at your comment about being proud of him "Great, thanks, whatever, do i look like i care" He leant against the door to try and look more intimidating while he listened "So you're basically saying Remy's freak out is my fault?" A hoarse chuckle left his lips "'Course it is. Everything with them is. Them running off is a byproduct of me and my actions. You can just say that. No need to try and sugar coat it"

The door opened making Virgil nearly trip over. Janus took on a coat in a hurry while locking the door behind them. They sent a look that they hoped could kill to the other man to which he just stared back like a deer caught in headlights.

"Are you waiting for a start signal!?" Janus spat out sarcastically "Come on. I have a Remy to get"

Janus grabbed Virgil by the back of the neck as if he was a wet kitten and pulled him along at a rapid pace.

"Ow! That hurts you ugly bastard!"

"Oh I'm sorry!" Janus' voice was dripping with sarcasm "Would you prefer if I held you in a chokehold instead? I've heard you like that"

Virgil stayed quiet until they got out to his car. He let out an annoyed grunt when Janus sat down in the front seat next to him. The entire car smelled like cigarettes which made Jan wrinkle their nose while the other man typed in the stranger's address on the gps.

"Don't try to speak to them okay" Janus snarled out "If you so much as look at them I will make sure I find a staircase to throw you down even if those stairs are the stairs down to hell you trifling asshole. Got it"

"I don't have lasers in my eyes idiot! It's not like I-"

"You don't deserve to look at them-"

Virgil glanced away from the road to send the fakest possible smile to them "You've gotten together yet? Gotten your happy little farytail ending together?"

Janus pushed their hand straight into his cheek to make him turn his head back to the road "You have no reason to have that information and I won't say anything if I don't have their permission to do so"

"Right yeah Riiight" He leant his head back to let out a scoff "It's been like how long since they left. There's no way they haven't whored themself out to you yet. It's just how they are! If not too then probably to that Remus guy or whoever else they could find"

It took immense self restraint for Janus to not punch him since they knew they didn't have time to get in a car crash right now. They waited until the car stopped by a red light before grabbing Virgil by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him close enough so he had no choose but to look them in the eye.

"Listen up you sniveling little excuse for a human being, By any and all measurement standards I would most likely score higher than Remy at being a so called whore. I have most definitely been with more people, more frequently and more outside of my stable relationship. So if you are going to be calling them that you should be calling me a whore too"

Virgil looked at them with his mouth half open, eyes wide in a surprised look.

"Exactly" Janus continued "You can't. Because you are only calling Remy these things to bring someone who you know is already weaker than you down even further. You don't actually believe any of the bullshit you spout, that's why you start hating yourself the damn second your anger stops filling your big stupid wanker head"

The light turned to green and Janus pushed Virgil back to his seat.

"Now drive and shut the hell up"

For the rest of the car ride there was a strict silence between the two of them. There was so much tension if someone tried to cut through it the tension would punch them all the way to Canada.

"....I think we're here..." Virgil mumbled out as the car slowed down to a crawl next to a series of apartment houses "...Guy on the phone said he lived on the second floor....third door"

Without a word Janus got out of the car and sent a sharp look to Virgil before hurrying into the building. They practically flied up the stairs and knocked on the door so intensely it was like the house was on fire.

A man with a long beard opened. There was a few gray hairs among the black but his lips moved up into a warm smile when he saw Janus. There was a look of kindness in his deep brown eyes.

"Are you Virgil?" He asked.

"....Yes...Yes I'm Virgil" They lied back to him.

The man stepped aside to let them in "Good. Your- You said they were your boyfriend right? Your boyfriend isn't doing so well. I was out walking Nessie- my dog- when I saw them falling all over the place and I asked if I could help them. I hope I haven't done anything I shouldn't"

Janus barely looked at him, their eyes too busy searching for Remy "No. No. Don't worry. I couldn't be more grateful that you helped. Thank you"

A wave of relief washed over Janus when he stepped a bit farther into the apartment and saw Remy laying on the couch. They were curled up with their face churned into a soft pillow. Their body writhed in pain while they heaved for air.

Janus looked past the bruises on their body, the bits of puke left on their cheeks, their pale to the point of looking sickly skin, even the hickeys left next to the bruises on their neck and shoulders. All he saw was that they were here with him again. It was all he cared about.

"Deep breathes darling" He murmured as he sat down on the couch next to them. "I'm here. You're safe. I'm here"

He moved his arms lightly around them and held them close to his chest. Remy's eyes fluttered open for a moment and looked up at him. It was like their bloodshot eyes were watching him through a haze, like they didn't recognize him.

But their hand gripped around his. They desperately squeezed on around his fingers as they kept looking up at him, a soft whine leaving their lips.

Janus leant forward and pressed a kiss to their sweaty forehead. He gently reached out and moved their messy hair back behind their ear and stroked the bits of puke left on their cheek away with his thumb. Before kissing them again right on the tip of their nose.

"Thank you" Janus said again to the stranger.

"No problem"

The man helped Remy up on their feet but their legs almost immediately gave out, their head lolled to the side in a dizzy state. So the man shifted to instead helping Janus pick them up.

He mouthed another silent thank you as he left the apartment and carried Remy bridal style down the stairs. He tried to move as carefully as he could so as to not cause them any more pain.

The car still stood parked outside. Janus held his hand at the back of Remy's head to lightly tilt their face inwards, so they only saw the soft fabric of his sweater and not him.

Virgil didn't say anything as Janus got into the backseat of the car. They held Remy close to their chest and stared at the reflection of Virgil in the mirror. The car started and they began to slowly roll down the street they'd come from.

"The hospital...I think we have to drive to the hospital" Janus said, his voice choking up a bit.

Without a response Virgil wrote in the closest hospital on the gps and started to drive a bit faster. Janus didn't say anything about it but they noticed that his hands were shaking as he held onto the steering wheel.

Remy's skin was hot as iron against Janus' skin but he held on either way. Every time they closed their eyes for too long he snapped his fingers next to their ear to get their attention again. They let up into a soft smile as they looked up at him, as if this was the first time they saw him while their nose started to bleed. The blood stained his sweater but he didn't mind it.

The car stopped in the parking lot to the hospital. Janus glanced to the other man before hurriedly getting out of the car. He started to walk towards the hospital entrance with Remy in his arms but the sound of another car door opening came from behind.

"Wait!" Virgil exclaimed.

Janus didn't stop at all, he didn't even hesitate. He continued to walk without looking back. Even when he felt Virgil grab onto his arm he tried to shake him off.

"I don't think Remy has their ID with them. I- The- I doubt the hospital reception will take in a 'Remy Siest' if they can't find someone with that name on record"

That made Janus stop and look back at the other man. Virgil gulped back the urge to lurch forward and take Remy all for himself. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Janus.

"Promise to never call them this. Only use it with the hospital staff okay? They haven't changed their legal name. Never call them this okay?" Virgil stuttered out, hands fumbling with his sleeves to distract himself from his worst urges.

"I promise"

He leant forward and whispered Remy's legal name into Janus' ear.

"You know their birth date right?"

"I do"

"Their blood type is A, their body has gotten resistant to weak doses of painkillers so you have to tell the nurses to put them on extra if they need it an-and the drugs they've most commonly used are poppers, weed, xanax I think and uhh ketamine. I think that's all" Virgil heaved out in a hurry, words stumbling over each other.

"Got it"

"Please just- just tell me- you can ask the ghost thingies- just please let me know if they- they're alright....Please?...I just have to know if they- if they-"

"I will. Promise"

Virgil held back tears as he nodded "Thanks"

Janus sent him a nod before continuing to walk towards the hospital's bright entrance. He looked around in the air around him.

"Watchers? Do any of you know what Remy has taken? I'm sure it would help even if you only know vaguely?" He thought a bit before adding "And could someone inform Remus of what's going on? He deserves to know. Besides I'm sure Remy would want him here right now"

#thanks for the ask! #glow eyes #ask

[whereisstevethestove]

4 with anaroceit, or loroceit?

Prompt: 4. ‘The king is missing’ with Roman, Janus, and Virgil.   For the 300 Follower special here! (x)

TW: Implied Torture:)

AO3 Link (x)

In the three years that Janus of Onryx had been a companion to the king, not once, not twice, but almost fourteen times that the man had gone missing.  Most of the time, he had been found hiding somewhere on the grounds, so not exactly missing, but it did add some spice, so he dealt with it.

So don’t judge him if he was rather indifferent to the guard that had burst into his personal study.

“The king is missing.”

“Don’t bother me, I’m busy.”  Janus flipped a document over, pulling out a candle so he could wax seal the back.

“He’s not in the palace.”

“Do I care?”

“Janus, please, he was here last.”  the guard shifted nervously as Janus lit the candle, still indifferent.

“Let me finish this up and I’ll do your job for you.”

...

The king, meanwhile, was being insulted by a rather cheeky young man.  Roman had said good morning to Janus and then had snuck out of his own palace to head to the surrounding town.

Roman loved his job, he loved the people, but he hated how it made it difficult to just go out and observe.

Anyway, he had made it to the edge of the town, where the poorer people lived when the voice assaulted him.

“Looks like a little royal got lost, eh?”

Roman paused.  There wasn’t anyone in the area and so he slowly turned in a circle, one hand flinching to his sword.  “Where are you?”

“Does it matter?  Well, I guess it does, you do look higher ranking than me by any chance.  I’m on the roof to your right.”

Roman turned and looked up to see the owner of the voice, who was lounging on the thatch roof of a small shack, smirking.

“Hello Princey.”  Roof guy said, waving.  “Here to tax me again?  Honestly, at this point, might as well take the skin from my neck before I commit high treason.”

Roman sputtered.  “I... I was just taking a walk... Thatcher in the Rye.”

“Very creative for a royal.  I’m not a thatcher.  This isn’t even my roof.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it belongs to the rich fucker who is gonna force me off it.”

Roman really wished that his father had taught him how to talk to people like this.  He honestly had no idea.

“can I get a name?”

“Nah.”

“Well, Nah, how can I help you?”  Roman swept into a bow, feeling a bit silly to be bowing to a dirt covered person on a roof, but they laughed.

“A royal, bowing to me of all people! Must be my unlucky day.  You can’t help me.  When I said that I didn’t own this roof, I meant it.  It’s eviction day, I’m just waiting to be dragged off in chains.”

The nonchalant way that he seemed to accept it was jarring to Roman.  Yet, behind the dirt and the wary gaze, he could see very real panic in the other’s eyes.

...

To say that Virgil was having a good day was a lie.  First he’d had woken up to the reminder that this was his last day of freedom and when he decided to make a last, bold but stupid stand, the freaking king had shown up.

He was playing dumb in hopes that King Roman would laugh it off and hopefully leave before the count could show up.

God, it’d be embarrassing to be dragged off kicking and screaming if his royalness was watching.

Unfortunately, the king was still talking and Virgil could see a cloud of dust from about a mile off, which could only be caused by horses.

“Do you know who I am?”  The king’s voice pulled his eyes back down.  Virgil shrugged.

“You’re dressed like a common folk, but your clothes are too clean and you wield a sword. Most likely a royal boy running from his mommy and daddy for a day out.”  Virgil looked back up to see that the dust was closer, probably arriving within the next five minutes.

“How dare!  I am an adult.”

“Cool, I don’t care.  Run off royal, before the wolves come.”  Virgil waved his hand dismissively and the king looked taken aback as he swiveled around to see the approaching count with his entourage. 

“Virgil! Get down from there.”

Virgil rolled onto his back, taking in the sky.  “Can I take a week to think about it?”

The count sighed, hell it was loud, Virgil could hear it from here, almost fifteen feet away.

“Do you want to be forcefully removed?”

“I mean, I would have gotten off the roof if I wasn’t expecting a fight.”  Virgil flipped over again, glaring at the count, the king lost in the small crowd of people that had started to gather outside of their nearby homes to watch.

It happened pretty fast.  One of the entourage walked his horse forward, reached up and yanked Virgil down by the hair.

Virgil fell, landed on the dirt with a thud and then scrambled to his feet, attempting to book it before the man from before grabbed his hair again.

“Sorry.”

“It’s whatever I guess.  You were hired for this right?  Can’t hold it against you.”  Virgil said as roof puller got off his horse.

“I have to tie you up.”

“Fair enough.”

The ropes were the worst, and it was only now that Virgil’s bravado left him as he was thrown on the back of a horse, completely at the mercy of the count and company.

He looked up as the horse started to walk, catching a glimpse at the crowd.

“Bye!  Wish me luck as I rot!”  One last jab, fake snark as a hope to the others that he wasn’t about to be broken.

Virgil then closed his eyes, and quietly began to cry.

...

Janus had finally finished what he needed done when another guard ran in, further annoying him.

 “We found him.”

“Thank goodness, I was so worried.”

“He wants to speak with you.”

Janus stood and pushed his chair back, following the man to where Roman’s study was.

His partner was pacing the study, dressed in what looked like a poor disguise, hands running nervously through his hair.

“Ro, what’s wrong?”

Roman looked at him.  “Just something I saw today.  Do we really tax people so much?”

Janus let out a quiet sigh.  “Honey, you might want to sit down.”

“No, I want to know the answer.  I just watched someone get tied up and taken because they couldn’t pay!  How is that fair!”  Roman whirled around, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes.

“We try to do it percentage based.  The person you was taken probably owed private tax.”

Roman turned again and Janus walked over, stretching out a hand.  “Did you get a name?  We can look into it.”

“Virgil.  I don’t think he had a surname.  But Janus, they ripped him off his roof and just.. took him, it was horrible.”  Roman took Janus’ hand, still shaking a bit as his partner folded him into a hug.

“We’ll look at it, promise.”

...

Roman waited a week before looking back with the records finder to see if there was any clue where Virgil was.

Logan was annoying, but at least he did his job better than anyone.  He handed Roman a stack of transcripts, and when he looked through it, it was all trade receipts between Virgil and the Count Burgess, and the prices slowly got higher with no explanation to why or what was being traded.

At least he had a location now.  Roman took Janus and a few guards on the journey to the Count’s estate.

Needless to say, the Count was surprised to see the king knocking on his door.

“Your Majesty.  To what do I owe the pleasure, and with so little warning?”

Roman stepped forward as the Count bowed.  “Just looking for someone.  Virgil was his name.  There’s no record of him after you settled your debts with him.”

“But of course.  Come in?”

The group entered and Roman shivered.  Everything was perfectly clean, but even then, it all just felt shifted to the left.

“I don’t have many that come to me for financial aid, but when they do, it’s always delightful to help them out.  Of course, the poor boy couldn’t pay me back...”  the Count turned and opened a door.  “He’s down there, two at a time.”

Roman gave Janus’ hand a squeeze before nodding to the Count.  “I’d prefer to go first.”

“But of course.”

The pair went down the stairs, it being eerily silent.

“Now, before we enter the backrooms, I’d prefer you don’t have me killed,  I’m only collecting my debts.”

Roman narrowed his eyes.  “You say that as if you are doing something that would warrant death.”

The Count shrugged.  “You seem to be the overly emotional type you Majesty.  I learned my method of debt collecting from your father, so forgive me if I do offend you.”

Then he opened the door.

...

Virgil woke up, feeling like death itself had sucker punched him.  He didn’t bother opening his eyes, it was dark, of course it would be, he was in the dungeons after all.

Something felt off though.

“Is he okay?” “MMMMmmm, no, the infection is pretty bad.  I’m sorry Ro.  He’ll probably be in and out of consciousness over the  next few days.” “Thank you.”

Virgil tried to open his eyes, yelped in pain from the natural sunlight and then tried to roll away, pain flaring absolutely everywhere.

“Hey, you’re okay now.  Promise.”

Virgil didn’t respond and he felt a hand rest on his forehead.  

“I’m so sorry etoile.  Just rest okay?”

Virgil nodded.

Something warm covered him and he drifted off again.

...

Janus was surprised that Roman had let the Count live.  After everything had gone down, they’d returned to the palace with one less Count and one patient in need of severe healing from the injures and undernourishment from just one week.

They were laying in bed when Roman first asked him.

“Am I bad because of what my father did?”

Janus rolled to his side to look at his love.  “You saved Virgil, right?”

“yes, but~”

“No buts Ro, you did better than any king I know.  You’re a hero.”

“Hmm.”  Roman muttered before scooting closer to Janus.  “I’m worried.  Patton said that he’d get better, but I still worry.”

“How about you let the funny magic man do his healing, and I’ll make sure that you don’t go stir crazy waiting for your crush to wake up.”

“Not a crush.”  Roman protested.

“Virgil is very pretty though, you told me that.  And you seemed to put a lot of effort in for one person who owed debts to a person.”

“Okay, fine, you win Jan, but you’ll see once he’s coherent.  He’s wonderfully snarky.”

Janus laughed quietly.  “Fair enough.”

...

Roman wasn’t in the country when Virgil first awoke and was actually functioning past a fever dream and a few mumbled sentences.

Janus was there however, and Roman was right.

Virgil was incredibly snarky, and also very antsy, further proven when he tried to clamber out of the bed, almost falling before Janus caught him.

“Let the fuck go of me.”

“I’m sorry, I’d rather not have staff clean blood from your face off the ground when you collapse.”

Virgil hissed and Janus begrudgingly let him go, hands still hovering just in case.

“Roman’s going to be disappointed that he didn’t get to meet you.”

“We’ve met.”

“Ah yes, the roof incident, I’m well aware.”

“Fuck you.”

...

It took a long time for the scars to heal.  It took even longer for Roman to work up the courage to ask if Virgil would court him.

And it was Janus who asked in the end anyways.

#anaroceit #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #human au #medieval au #300follower special #not countdown

[mellohi404]

A New Kind of Logic

(based on a prompt by: @djpurple3)

(Also, I can't write anything small. This has over 8500 words. 8501 to be exact.)

(warnings: kinda unsympathetic Roman and Patton? Kinda? But not forever? I don't know.)

(This is Loceit that I'm hoping doesn't sound forced.)

Logan was pacing around his room. After the most recent video, it was evident to him that he wasn't needed. That his opinion wasn't needed, only his facts, and even then, it was only when it helped them. When he just wanted to share information, they ignored him. They skipped him. And Logan...he just didn't understand why. Was it him? That had to be it. That's the only logical conclusion. Who he was wasn't satisfactory anymore. He was more of a nuisance than anything, except when his facts were useful. When they were dealing with Remus, he remained calm and collected. His facts and logic were useful then. But there were other times that he wasn't appreciated. And when Logan reacted negatively, by throwing things or yelling, the others reacted negatively as well. That was it! Being angry, being frustrated, that's what's wrong. That's why the others don't listen. He scares them when he gets loud. He scares them when he gets angry. But when he wasn't angry and helped them, they praised him. So...why not make it so that's all he has? He knew deep down that he was needed, he couldn't just duck out like Virgil did...so he changed instead, physically and mentally. Surely, that would be enough for the others to accept his presence again, and for his input to be praised instead of ignored or seen as a nuisance.

"Wow Logan, you look nice!" "That look is much better than that stuffy polo and tie." Patton and Roman smiled the first time they saw Logan's change in appearance. Instead of his polo and tie, he had on a dark blue sweatshirt and a pair of black slacks. It was...different to say the least. Logan's polo and tie weren't exactly comfortable, but it was part of the aesthetic. It made sense for the logical, mature side to wear mature clothing. But he was different now, right? And he had to change his clothes to encourage that. "Thank you. I thought...it would be a good time for a change. Everyone else is growing and changing, so I thought I should too." It was a lie. Logan knew full well that wasn't the reason. But, his point was valid. Thomas, and in effect the sides, were growing and changing. It made sense that Logan would too. Logan softly smiled at the other sides, and it made Patton squeal. "You should smile more, nerd. It's a nice look on you." Logan just nodded a little and Roman started going on and on about his different ideas. Before, if an idea didn't make sense, Logan would say so. He would cut down Roman idea, and then they would argue. But Logan couldn't do that anymore, he wasn't that person (well, figment of Thomas's imagination) anymore. "Roman? Maybe there could be a balcony instead of a cloud bridge?" Logan spoke softly, calmly. That's how he made himself talk now. Roman's eyes sparkled and he smiled wide. "That's a great idea, Logan!" That was it. No arguments. No yelling. Just an agreement before he continued on with his ideas...and the praise felt so good. Logan could do this, he was sure of it now. He could stay in the background except when he's needed. The praise was more than worth it.

Janus knew something was off. Ever since the last video ended, he could feel it. Something- or someone- just wasn't right. He just had to figure out who. But that didn't take too long. Janus, he makes it his business to know how the others act, how they behave. He knows their habits, their tics, the things that make them who they are. It's so I can impersonate them. Of course, that's all it is. Nothing more, nothing less. And he could just feel Logan's change. He didn't need to see him, he knew. He knew Logan was breaking himself, holding himself back...and that made him worry. The yellow-clad was more accepted now, no one would mind if he was sitting in the living room with everyone else. So that's exactly what he did. He sat on the floor by the window, his back against the wall. He didn't want to get too close yet, just in case. That, and he did enjoy the sunlight coming from the window, even if he would never admit it. And from that spot, he could see Logan perfectly. Instead of a book and a neutral expression, the logical side just had his hands in his lap with a small smile on his face. He just watched the others as they talked, but it was obvious to Janus that he wasn't really listening. Logan figured that he didn't really need to. He only contributed when his input was specifically asked for anyway. Janus stood and walked over to Logan, his hands behind his back. He bent down a bit to quietly speak into Logan's ear. "Logan, can I speak to you in the kitchen for a moment?" Without a word, Logan stood and followed Janus into the kitchen, and stood by the table as Janus sat down. "...you can sit down, Logan." Logan did so, sitting across from Janus. He still had that small smile on his face. Janus knew it was forced. "Logan, this is wrong." Janus was blunt, that's how he is. And he knew that being blunt and honest would be the best way to get through to the logical side. But Logan, he just innocently tilted his head. "What do you mean, Janus?" The snake side frowned and almost glared at the side in front of him. "You know exactly what I mean, Logan. You acting like this, it's wrong. Roman's ideas are ridiculous, and you know it just as well as I do. And you don't need to act like this to get their approval. You don't need their approval." As Janus was talking, he knew he was striking chords inside Logan. He knew exactly why Logan was doing this, and it made him sick to his stomach. And Logan, he knew Janus was right. But...he couldn't be that same logic from before, not now. "Janus, I'm really sorry, but...this is who I am now. And that's okay. I'm perfectly happy like this. And I-" "Logan, can you come here for a second, kiddo?" Patton interrupted him, and he stood. "Sorry Janus. We can talk again later, if you want." He smiled and walked out of the kitchen to see what Patton had wanted.

Janus went to his room with a disgusting taste in his mouth. He knew that every word coming out of Logan's mouth was a lie and he hated it. He flopped onto his bed, his face in his pillow, and he talked into it in frustration. "...I can't blame him. I really can't. I've watched him. I know full well that he's ignored at every chance unless he's needed. I know that the other sides hate when his logic is used against them. But it's just not fair! He doesn't deserve this! He's so...he's so good. He knows so much, he worked endlessly. He did everything he could to make Thomas the best person he can be...but that wasn't enough for the others, was it? Noooo, they had to go and turn him into this shell of who he used to be! Now he's like an AI, only speaking when spoken to, only giving information when he's asked to share it. It's not fair!" "Then just tell him." A voice above his head should have made him jump, but he knew Remus well enough that it wasn't any surprise. "Remus, get off of my ceiling." How he even got on the ceiling, Janus didn't know for sure, but that was how Remus always came into his room. With a sound like a suction cup, Remus hopped down to the floor before sitting beside Janus. "It's not that simple, Remus. Logan actually thinks this is good for him. He actually thinks that this is what's best. That the others feelings should dictate how he acts, and that's just not true!" Janus moved his hands for emphasis as he spoke, a sign that he was getting frustrated. "Hmmmmm...what if we used the other sides as doormats so they'd know how he feels?! I'd just love to step all over Roman's face~." Remus giggled a little at the image in his head. "I don't think that's the best idea, Remus...but just yelling at them won't work either..." Janus spent hours thinking. He needed to figure out how to fix this. How to fix Logan.

It was around ten o'clock at night. Most of the sides were in their rooms, the only exception being Logan. He was just...staring out the window of the Mindscape. He had so many thoughts in his head, but he muffled them. He just focused on the stars in the sky and trying his damnedest to not think about the constellations themselves. As Janus went down the stairs and saw Logan, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest. In part, it was from seeing Logan like this. Logan looked so...dull. He knew Logan should've had a fascinated look in his eyes as he looked at the stars and constellations, but he didn't. And it made Janus physically hurt. "Logan. I need to speak with you." Logan jumped a little and looked over at Janus. "Oh, Janus. What do you need?" He smiled, and it made Janus hurt even more. "Logan, just stop." "I-I don't-" Janus couldn't help himself, and he raised his voice ever so slightly. "Yes you do. Logan, they've turned you into a doormat. A dull, lifeless doormat. Logan, that's not you!" He got closer and looked directly into Logan's eyes, the passion that was once in them completely dulled down. "Logan, you have so much passion about everything. Every fact, every single bit of knowledge, you have so much passion about them. Your knowledge shouldn't be held back. It shouldn't be censored. Logan, all you've done is hurt yourself!" "Janus, no!" The yellow-clad man took a step back in surprise. Logan, feeling that frustration he pushed so far down coming back up, he took a deep breath to calm himself, his eyes closed. When he opened them again, they were somehow more lifeless than before, at least from Janus's perspective. "Janus, if that's what I'm there for, then that's what I'm there for. If this is what makes them keep me...then this is what I'll do." Logan smiled his soft smile, but Janus knew that this was even more forced than before. "Logan..." Janus was at a loss for words. He just didn't know what to do. "...you should probably go to sleep soon." "That was my plan. Thank you for worrying though, Janus." The snake side went back to his room and he repeated what he did before. He flopped onto his bed, and spoke into his pillow, this time until he fell asleep. But just before he fell asleep, he said one thing. "...he was perfect before..."

Janus woke up with a gasp, and he rolled out of his bed. "That wasn't very cool looking." Remus said bluntly. "Remus, I don't care. I have an idea." Janus frantically grabbed his hat off of the floor and put it back on his head. He quickly walked out of the room and to Patton's room. With a knock of the door, Patton opened it. "Oh. Good morning Janus." Patton yawned as he rubbed his eye. "Patton, can you come to my room with me for a second?" The father figment was confused, but he nodded. "Why?" "I just have something to show you." Janus quickly walked back to his room, Patton following at his own pace. Janus watched as Patton walked into the room and closed the door behind him. The yellow carpet contrasted against Patton's blue cat slippers. "Sooo...what did you want to show me?" With a wave of his hand, two version of Logan appeared in front of Patton like holograms. One was the original Logan, with his tie and polo and his neutral expression. The other was the new Logan. The one that's changed, with his small smile. "Which Logan do you prefer?" Patton was confused at the question. "Prefer? Well, I mean, this one." He pointed at the new Logan. "He's growing like everyone else is, and everyone's relationships with him are so much better. I haven't seen him argue with Roman since he changed, and he's smiling now! That's good!" Janus frowned and pushed Patton out of his room. "That's all I need, thank you blind man." "Blind man? What-" Janus closed the door before Patton could finish. "Believe it or not Patton, not all change is good."

Janus figured that an interaction with Roman would be similar to what Patton did, so he went to Virgil instead. They weren't exactly on the best terms yet, but for Logan, it was worth it. "Virgil? Virgil, can I talk to you? It's about Logan." Virgil was ignoring the snake side when he first heard him outside the door. He didn't want to talk with Janus unless he had to, but hearing him say Logan's name, he opened the door. "What about him?" The shadows under his eyes only seemed bigger now, and it was clear to Janus that Virgil didn't sleep well. "I wanted to know how you feel about him. Can I come inside?" Virgil glared at the side in front of him. "No. But what do you mean, how I feel?" "Do you like the change?" Virgil looked away and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Everyone else likes it." "That's not what I asked, Virgil." "...I don't trust it." Janus felt relieved to know that someone else could tell Logan wasn't right. Patton and Roman were too happy about the positives of Logan being different to see how much he was hurting, and just thinking about it made a sour taste form in Janus's mouth. "I'm going to convince him to change back." Virgil rolled his eyes. "Easier said than done. They like the new Logan." "Believe me, Virgil. I know full well." "Then what do you plan on doing?" Virgil snapped at the other side. "...I'll make them feel the same way he does." He waved a finger as he thought, the plan forming together. "We ridicule Patton every time he cries during a movie. We tell Roman to shut up unless his thoughts are about videos or something important to Thomas. We make them feel like they aren't needed." "What about Logan? He said he's happy this way." Janus froze for a second. "...I'm hoping that once the others know how he feels, they'll convince him to change back." "And if they don't? Or if he doesn't want to change back?" Janus was quiet for a moment, looking at his gloved hands. "...I'm not sure."

"I thought you were Thomas's happy feelings Patton." It was a simple comment. Patton always cried at the part where Bing-Bong sacrificed himself during Inside Out. All Janus had to do was make sure Patton knew that he "shouldn't feel that way." And every chance he could get, he did exactly that. "Patton, don't cry." "Patton, you definitely shouldn't smile more." Comments like that were slowly chipping away at Patton, and both him and Janus knew it. 

The same could be said of Roman, but his reactions were different. Patton, he would nod a little and force his tears away. But Roman, he was more defensive. He fought more. But eventually, his insecurities ate away at him, and he, too, started acting how Janus wanted him to. 

The air in the living room was unbelievably tense. Patton tried to make it go away by playing one of Thomas's favorite movies, but it didn't exactly help. "..." Logan was quiet. He knew that was Janus said to the others affected them, but he didn't want to intervene. He didn't think he should... "Janus, can I have a chat with you, please?" Janus smirked, and he nodded as he followed Logan into the kitchen. "Why are you doing this?" Just for a second, Janus saw the passionate spark in Logan's eyes that he was missing. "I'm doing this for you, Logan. If they know how you feel-" "You don't know how I feel!" Logan took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Janus, thank you for what you're trying to do. Really, thank you. But don't hurt the others because you think I'm unhappy with this. I am. The others finally see me for who I am, not as a waste of space only to be used when I'm needed. Why are you trying to change that? Why are you ruining this for me, Janus? I-I just don't understand. Do you really dislike me that much?" Hearing that, Janus's eyes went wide. He was speechless. He couldn't believe that Logan really thought that he hated him. "Logan, I...I don't hate you. Far from it. I'm 'ruining this for you' because this isn't you. Logan, you're the smartest person I know. You're passionate and beautiful when you get that way. You lose your temper, and you push down your feelings until you think they're gone. You ignore every feeling you have when they hurt you because you know that if you react, they won't take you seriously. And Logan, they might not like it when you fight with them or when you give them more information than they wanted, but that's who you are! They shouldn't change that! No one should change that! And the Logan I fell in love with wouldn't let the other sides's feelings make him act so illogically!" Logan was frozen and his cheeks were tinted pink. "I...what?" He blinked his eyes a few times as his brain processed what Janus said. "I said I-oh. I can see why you're blushing now." The yellow-clad man himself had a pink tint to the not-snake side of his face. "You...love me?" "I love the real you, Logan. And I am begging you, please change back. You're hurting yourself so much...the passion in your eyes is gone, and now it's just so lifeless. It doesn't fit you, darling." He said the nickname with a small smirk. Logan first looked at the other sides in the kitchen, then to Janus, then to his own hands. "...okay. I'll try." With a snap of his fingers, he was back in his polo and tie, and Janus could see the light in Logan's eyes slowly coming back. It made him smile. "That definitely isn't better." Logan smiled, genuinely smiled, and went back into the living room. 

"Oh, Logan, you changed back?" Patton tilted his head in confusion when he saw Logan and Janus walk back into the room. "Why did you do that?! You were so much better!" Logan's hands clenched into fists as he held his tongue, regardless of how much he wanted to yell and scream at the others. "Because peace doesn't always mean things are better." Janus practically hissed out. His blood was boiling at how the other two were responding. "You were so happy about how helpful Logan was and how he didn't argue or yell anymore that you couldn't see why he was that way. All he wanted was your approval, but he was never enough. All he wanted was to be seen as another one of you, instead of a nuisance who was only wanted when he was useful. And, believe it or not, he was hurting so badly. He has been hurting for a very long time, and you two were too blind to see it!" Patton's eyes widened as he remembered what Janus called him before. "Oh..." "Oh. Yeah, oh. That's totally enough of an apology. I-" Logan put his hand on Janus's shoulder to reel him back, and Janus blushed ever so slightly, embarrassed at his outburst. "Thank you Janus. But I believe that they understand now." He gently took Janus's hand and led him up the stairs to his room to relax.

After that, Roman and Patton didn't try to make Logan shut up anymore. They listened to him when he spoke, and they found out that he knows so much about everything. Patton and Roman both enjoy listening to him go on and on about certain subjects now. Virgil, he never minded to begin with, but seeing Logan go back to normal made the anxiety in his chest go away. As for Remus and Janus, well, they started seeing Logan a lot more. Logan enjoys going to Janus's room, and Remus likes to interrupt them and see their embarrassed faces. But one night, late at night,  Logan and Janus were together, just laying beside each other on the floor (which was surprisingly warm). Both of them were quite tired, but neither of them wanted to sleep. "...thank you Janus." "Whatever for?" Janus said in a sleepy smooth tone as he looked at the glasses-wearing side, who was staring at the simulation of stars on the ceiling. "...for helping me change back. I...I am much happier now than I was like that." "I know darling." Janus said with a small, playful smirk. "I did it for no reason at all." Logan smiled a little, knowing Janus was lying. "...I love you too." It was a shame that Janus didn't hear it. He had fallen asleep with his hand laying on Logan's. When the nerdy side realized it, he smiled and closed his own eyes to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

I can't make a short story, can I?

I hope you enjoyed it!

@amazonprimebox

#loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders

[hydra-collector]

Suck Me Out

Ships: Intrulogical, some Intruloceit

Characters: Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Janus Sanders (minor character), Roman Sanders (minor character), Virgil Sanders (minor character), Patton Sanders (minor character)

TW: Self-harm, choking, autoerotic asphyxation (not really though), depression, self-deprecation, I don’t want to spoil but if any of those previous tags bother you even a little, I suggest you don’t read this (I’ll tag the spoiler, though), cursing

Words: 1,716

Summary: Remus wouldn't expect them to understand. He's intrusive thoughts, god of kinks. Of course they wouldn't see it. But once in a while he wished they would.

"I'm serious, Logan," Remus gestured to his tightly adorned garment, "necktie."

Logan rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. "When you're done with your kinks, join us for movie night. We finally get to watch a documentary."

Remus shrugged and pulled tighter the pretty blue tie that had previously been on Logan's neck. His face was purple from the cutoff of blood and his hand struggled to keep grip. He began to tilt backwards a little towards the wall before Logan took his arm and pried away the tie.

"Remus, stop. You're gonna fall."

"But it feels so good."

Logan only sighed in response and reclaimed the tie around his own neck, leading Remus to the living room. 

Roman was the first to speak out of the welcoming mumbles.

"Remus, save your arousal for night time. We're trying to watch a fun movie about space," though he seemed skeptical of the amount he could enjoy a documentary.

Patton scolded the two of them for mentioning such subjects, but swiftly put on the movie anyway. 

Virgil and Roman became surprisingly enamored in the science of black holes and their possible opposite, white holes. Logan excitedly paused it at multiple points to fawn over or elaborate on some of the research like a child. Remus, however, sat leaning against Logan, staring mindlessly at the television.

What if I was in a black hole? 

Remus tried to shake the thought off, but it was persistent. 

If black holes lead to white ones that spit you out into another universe, could my world here end? 

Maybe he'd be happy in this other universe. Something in his brain would change and the sadness would be gone. Or maybe it'd be traumatic. 

"...Remus!"

"Huh?"

"I paused the movie to see if you were alright. You did not seem to notice when I did."

"Yeah, I'm, I'm fine. Think I'll just…" mumbling off something about the bathroom. 

The minute he left he felt lonely. And stupid. Lonely and stupid. He shouldn't have let them see that. Now Logan's gonna be concerned because there's obviously something wrong. He stared intently at the mirror. 

Ugly. They hate me. 

What if he said that to them? He'd be guilt-tripping them and he'd be a terrible person. Even thinking it , he's a terrible person. Die.

His arms flashed to his neck, grabbing as tight as possible. His balance began failing… 

No, he can't do that. Then he worries them and they don't need that. How does he even know death is better than this?

Thomas doesn’t need him. Thomas doesn’t want him. His mental health would be better if he never even existed. Thomas doesn’t deserve what he does.

I want to fix that.

He can't help but cry. Muffled shrieks that must sound like moans from the living room. Sharp breaths that must sound like enjoyment slip out. Hits to his arms and legs that only add to the many bruises sound disgusting to them.

But none of it is. 

Sure, they have good reason to believe that Remus has some kinks, he is indeed mostly intrusive thoughts, which he’d admit is related to kinks, but he half-wished they wouldn't assume. He didn't really want them to know, but it killed him to be constantly alone about it. 

Alone.

Forever alone.

Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil. They’re the “light sides.” Of course he’s happy Janus got accepted, but… he doesn’t get that. He probably never will.

Fuck it. 

He tiptoed his way to his bedroom, ceiling adorned with a hook in preparation. On a day easier than this, he’d drilled it for today. Under his bed sat a box holding the rope, paper, and pen he’d carefully hidden. He thanked his previous self.

Tying the noose, his ears kept open for visitors wondering where he was. Before he hung himself at last, he wrote.

I’m sorry. 

Patton, Virgil, I love you. Janus, I love you. My brother, I love you. And Logan. I love you. Thank you for caring. 

But it wasn’t a kink.

He questioned if he should refer to Roman as his brother, and decided at last to do it. He didn’t want to alienate him as he died. He’d never get to tell him again.

I’m glad this is the end. I wasn’t needed.

He kicked the chair from under him.

Thomas will be happier without me.

As the rope constricted, relief and fear washed over him.

They all will.

“Remus!”

--

His throat hurt.

“Remus?”

He then noticed he could see a face. A beautiful face.

Logan?

“L-”

As soon as he tried to speak, his throat stopped him. Logan took his cheek in comfort.

“It’s okay, Remus. We found you. You’re going to be okay.”

He looked around to find he was sitting on his soft bed, pillows piled behind his head. The rope, and the hook were both gone. A drill, that had presumably been used to remove the hook, sat on the far dresser.

“We found your note.” It was Roman this time.

“I’m so sorry we ever thought it was a kink. We should have talked to you.” Logan’s eyes were gazing prettily at Remus’s.

“-”

He was reminded he couldn’t speak, so pointed to the paper on which his note was, and made a writing motion. Logan soon obliged to his wishes, though getting a different paper. Remus began to write. Again.

You had good reason to think it was.

He smiled a bit, and would have laughed, when Roman and Logan read this. They didn’t seem as amused as he was, and only looked worried. He flailed his arms to get the paper back.

Y’all don’t understand my sense of humor.

Where’s everyone else?

Logan beckoned to the door and Janus, Virgil, and Patton came in. Seeing Janus’s scales, his beautiful face… he never did get to ask him out.

Janus.

Logan brought him over while Remus wrote his message.

Probably not the best time, but I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you that both me and Logan have a crush on you.

“What?”

His human side grew red. Someone, who you like, who’s just attempted suicide telling you they want to date you is a very odd feeling.

“Remus, what did you-” Logan attempted to look at his message to Janus, and immediately shut up when he saw it.

Can I talk to Virgil now?

Virgil had been snickering in his corner, seemingly able to read the paper. He stopped as soon as he was called, putting on a more serious face.

Sorry Janus pushed you down the stairs.

“Wh- you’re not going to say some sad thing about me leaving the dark sides and you getting depressed? Just apologizing for Janus?”

I’m not going to blame it on you. It was Janus who pushed you down the stairs. And my idea.

“I’d call you an asshole but you’ve just attempted suicide and this is your daily personality.”

Remus made peace signs before requesting to talk to Patton, who unsurprisingly apologized over and over for treating Remus like a piece of shit. He did need to apologize, but Remus knew he was making an effort. Even if it wasn’t going very well.

Hey Ro-Ro, my bro-bro.

Roman also apologized. 

I mean we were literally split for you to be the “good” brother and me to be the “bad” one. If anything that made it the worst.

Roman had nothing to do but give him a hug.

Logan,

could I have a kiss?

Logan smiled and kissed Remus lightly on the cheek. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea to kiss someone on the lips if they’d been frothing at the mouth. 

That was tiny!

He would have gone to cuddle and kiss Remus more if no one else had been there. For now, Remus hugged everyone individually until they dispersed. 

Thankfully, Logan was put on watch duty, to make sure Remus really was feeling better, as he seemed, and wouldn’t try anything.

Logan pressed kisses to Remus’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. His warmth bled onto Remus, who desperately needed it. Logan’s eyes were beautiful. His arms wrapped around him. He felt safe. Remus snuggled into the affection, nearly happy he’d attempted suicide and been found. But-

He picked up the pen and paper again, reluctant to let go.

Logan, what if I did that because I wanted attention?

“Hey, Remus, no. You did it because everyone’s been against you. It’s made you feel like you don’t matter. But you do. We need you. Even if you did because of attention, it was because you needed attention. It’s okay if you wanted attention. If you were willing to go to… those lengths just to get attention, you needed it.”

Logan

thank y-

Remus’s eyes filled with bittersweet tears before he managed to finish writing, and he clutched Logan tight. He let go again to tell him more.

I felt so horrible. I still feel so horrible. I’m sorry I acted so happy when I wasn’t. I know you care but I shouldn’t be here. All I do is hurt Thomas. Now I’ll hurt him even more because I failed. He’s going to feel like shit. I’d pull out my own organs and put them in my horrible person pile if I could. It would have been okay if I’d succeeded. I’m so sorry if you would’ve missed me, but I can’t keep hurting Thomas. If I would’ve died he would have been fine, but I failed so-

Remus sobbed into Logan’s arms again, laying as close as possible, feeling his warmth, his body as much as possible. His boyfriend rubbed his hand over his back, arms, through his hair. He was starting to cry a little as well. He felt so horrible that he hadn’t helped how Remus felt.

“Remus, if a part of Thomas died, he’d have a piece of himself missing. It may not seem like Thomas wants or needs you, but you’re a part of him nonetheless.”

What do I do?

“Remus,” Logan turned his boyfriend’s face gently to look him in the eyes, “all you need to do is stay alive.”

What if I can’t?

“I'll be with you. As long as you need. You stay alive as long as you can.”

#sanders sides #sanders side fic #remus sanders #logan sanders #intrulogical #intruloceit #ts remus #ts logan #deceit sanders #janus sanders #ts deceit #ts janus #roman sanders #ts roman #virgil sanders #ts virgil #patton sanders #ts patton #HERES THE TRIGGER WARNING: #tw suicide #sucide attempt #tw suicide attempt #tw self harm #tw kink #think thats it #grays fics

[abused-sides]

Willingly Shackled [Whumptober 2020]

Note: I’m doing whumptober as a series. Check out the tag #whumptober 2020 v on my blog to read in order. Also on ao3.

Prompt: No. 4: Running Out Of Time [Caged] 

Synopsis: Styx works with Virgil. 

Trigger warnings: Cults, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, kidnapped, lots of non-sexual but just as non-consensual touching, humiliation, treating people like property, blood, knives, violence/beatings, a person in a cage, let me know if I missed anything 

Word count: 1706 

A/N: This probably took twice as long to write as it needed to because I kept stopping to wince and procrastinate lmao 

October 2nd. 7:25 pm. 

Janus expected Virgil to lose his fight after Styx humiliated him, but if anything, that humiliation made him more fierce, more angry. He fought every order Styx gave him, defying him until he wasn’t able to anymore- whether that was due to physical or mental exhaustion -and the next time Styx visited, they started from the beginning. 

Styx, like his leader, began with manipulation to get Virgil to do what he wanted. 

He had crouched one day, beckoning Virgil over like a dog. “Are you really not tired of making things so hard for yourself? We’re not letting you out, so you might as well just accept it. Maybe you won’t be in those chains anymore. Just ask Janus— Up those stairs, life is much better. You’re lucky to have been chosen. If you just let yourself, you could be part of it.” 

Virgil covered his blistering ankles and pressed himself into the corner. “Janus left you for a reason, you psychotic fuck,” he snapped. “I’d rather die than be your pet.” 

He sighed. “Janus?” He looked at him tiredly. “Will you tell him?”

Janus swallowed and pursed his lips. “He’s not wrong, Virgil,” he said quietly. “It’s better if you listen.”

“It’s more than better. Don’t you want to go outside again? To walk around freely? To eat whenever you want? You can essentially have your life back, Virgil, if you just listen. You won’t have to work anymore. Doesn’t that sound better? No more gross motels.”

“What, in exchange for being your slave?” Virgil spat. “I’m fine right here.” 

When that didn’t work, he once again followed Bates’ lead and resorted to violence. 

Virgil screamed as Styx’s knife carved lines in his back. His binder, splattered with blood, was tossed to the side, his chest pressed to the stone floor. 

“Come on!” Styx shouted over Virgil’s cries, his blade a nonstop motion. “What do you say? I’ll stop when you admit it!” 

Virgil’s nails cracked and broke as he dragged them down the stone, his screams growing louder. Styx slid the knife around to his side and dug in deeper, twisting his wrist. 

“What do you say?” 

Virgil grit his teeth. Styx cut deeper, and Virgil’s eyes rolled back, his body falling limp. Janus hid a smile. 

“Fuck!” Styx used Virgil’s binder to wipe his knife clean and shoved it in his sheath, tossing the binder on one of the filing cabinets. “Remus!” 

The door creaked open and shut, Remus hurrying down the steps. Styx climbed off his seat on Virgil’s waist and stepped over him. 

“Make sure he doesn’t bleed out,” he grumbled as he shouldered past Remus. 

Remus flipped his backpack around and pulled out a Ziploc bag filled with latex gloves. He pulled on a pair and grabbed a cloth, grimacing as he pressed at various places on Virgil’s back. 

“So you’ve become the doctor.” Janus’ voice came out rough, raspy. “How’d that happen?”

Remus shrugged, eyes on Virgil’s cuts. “I’m the least squeamish. Bates has gotten… More enthusiastic, than he was when you left. A lot of our staff can’t handle it anymore. I come in for anything passed some bruising and broken bones.” 

Janus hesitated. “Are you happy?” 

Remus pulled a water bottle of his backpack and drizzled it all over Virgil’s back and side. He dabbed all over until the blood was gone and the cuts were cleaned. His eyebrows pinched as he sewed up the cut in Virgil’s side, and some of the deeper ones on his back. He scooped up antibiotic ointment and rubbed it carefully all over his back, then held him upright while he wrapped him in gauze with one hand. 

Remus slipped Virgil’s shirt back on and leaned him against the wall. The handcuffs clicked around the pipes, the padlocks on the chains that trapped Virgil’s legs. 

“I missed you,” Remus said quietly, not looking at Janus. “I’m sorry you’re back.” 

He started towards the stairs, but when he passed Janus, Janus called his name. He looked at him questioningly. “If I don’t get something to drink soon, I’m gonna fucking pass out. Can you tell Bates I’m complaining?” 

Remus’ eyes flicked to the door. He knelt in front of Janus and pulled another water bottle out. 

Janus’ eyes widened. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” 

“That’s not something for you to worry about. Open.” 

Janus obeyed, and Remus took his chin between his fingers. He gave Janus water slowly, with breaks in between, until half the bottle was gone. 

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Remus said in a hushed voice. “He’s happy with you. Things are gonna get better soon.”

Janus grimaced. “Thank you, Remus.” 

Remus watched him for a moment, before hurrying out of the room. 

Styx tried the physical route a few more times, but when it was clear Virgil wouldn’t break, he snapped. 

Janus flinched as he dropped the whip. He grabbed Virgil by the back of his neck and forced him to the ground, forehead pressed to the stone. 

“You can keep denying it if that makes you feel better,” he hissed in Virgil’s ear. “But that doesn’t change anything. You’re mine. The second we picked you up from that shithole, you belonged to me. This?” Styx grabbed Virgil’s collar and yanked it back until Virgil gagged. “This marks you as mine. You fight that for the rest of our lives if you have to, but you better get used to being with me.” 

Janus watched it happen. 

He watched Virgil’s eyes cloud over, watched the sobs rip from his throat. His fists unclenched, and his glare faded. 

No. Janus’ eyes widened, his heart hammering. Please don’t. 

“And what do you say?” Styx clearly said it on autopilot, already standing without expecting a response. 

“Thank you, master.” 

Janus’ chest squeezed hard enough to hurt. 

Styx circled to Virgil’s front with a surprised chuckle. “If I knew all you needed was some proof, I would have saved a lot of time! Up!”

Janus blinked away tears as Virgil swayed and struggled to his knees, back straight. 

Styx curled his hands in Virgil’s hair and grinned. “And just like that, you’ve earned dinner. Was that so hard, pet? Speak.” 

“No,” Virgil mumbled. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, what?” 

Janus looked away. 

“No, master.” 

“Good boy! Looks like Janus is finally rubbing off on you. I knew bunking you two was the right decision.” 

Janus’ stomach lurched with the urge to throw up. You’re destroying him. You’re a coward and it’s hurting him. 

Styx chained Virgil back up and left. After a while, Janus cleared his throat. 

“How, um… How are you feeling?” 

Virgil looked at him incredulously. “I’m great. Was thinking of taking a nap.” 

“You should.” Janus stared at the ground. Fear squeezed his chest, it was getting hard to breathe. “You need to rest. It’ll help keep your strength up.” 

“I don’t know how much of that I have left,” he mumbled. 

You’re killing him. 

Janus wracked his mind for something to say that would change his mind, and came up with nothing. They didn’t speak again that day. 

October 7th. 3:02 am. 

Janus groaned and cracked his eyes open as a pair of footsteps descended down the stairs. Something creaked and scraped, occasionally thunking. 

“What now?” Virgil almost whimpered. 

Janus frantically blinked the sleep away. Styx waved at him cheerfully and continued into the room. Something crashed— Janus’ head whipped back to the stairs, where Remus braced himself against a large dog cage. 

Janus’ heart dropped. 

“Come on, Remus, hurry up. Fuck, be careful with that, it was expensive!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

The cage grated horribly as Remus pushed it across the room. Styx pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked Virgil’s ankles. 

He snickered and ducked as Virgil kicked wildly. “YOU’RE NOT FUCKING PUTTING ME IN THERE!” 

He hissed in pain as Styx gripped his blistered ankle, arching his back. “Down, boy,” Styx laughed. “This is appropriate, don’t you think? A nice little reminder that you belong to someone now. To me, in case you forgot.” 

This is sick. Janus’ mouth was full of cotton. This is too far. You have to stop. 

Styx unlocked Virgil’s wrists and grabbed him around the waist as Virgil broke for the door. Virgil thrashed and screamed while Styx dragged him out of the way. Remus pushed the cage into the corner and opened the door. 

“DON’T!” The cage rattled as Virgil kicked it, nearly knocking Styx off balance. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! LET ME GO!” 

Janus shrunk in on himself and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Remus, help me!” Styx snapped. 

Virgil’s protests dissolved into animalistic screams and wails. The next time Janus looked, the cage door was chained shut, Virgil crammed inside with not even space to turn around. 

Styx crouched in front of him. “This is only temporary, I promise. You can get your freedom back when you learn to be a good boy, like Janus.” He held his arms out, palms up. “Do I get a thank you?” 

Virgil glared at him, tears running down his face. Janus’ skin crawled, dread seeping through. Please don’t. 

“Thank you, master.” 

Styx’s lips curled into a grin. “Good boy.” 

He and Remus left, the door slamming behind them. Janus’ cuffs tugged as his wrists as he pressed himself against the wall. His eyes stared stubbornly out the dirt-crusted windows, refusing to look to his left, refusing to see the emptiness in Virgil’s eyes. 

After a long time, after Janus’ eyes had glazed over and Virgil’s sobbing had faded to sniffles and the occasional uncomfortable groan, he asked quietly, “Are you still there?” 

Virgil drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” 

Janus’ bottom lip wobbled. 

“Why are you crying? You’re fine. You have it way better.” 

“You’re wrong,” he whispered. 

Go on. Lie to him. Tell him it’s better to fight, that it might work, that he might get out. Encourage him to put himself through more pain so you don’t lose hope. Tell him that being forced into a cage is better than being willingly shackled. 

“We’re getting out of here.” Janus leaned his head against the wall. “I promise.” 

Kofi and commissions, 1 coffee = 300 words of your prompt

#whumptober2020 #no.4 #running out of time #caged #sanders sides #fic #whumptober 2020 v #virgil writes #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #virgil #janus #whump #angst