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delimeful · 2 months

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just a little rush (3)

warnings: g/t, captivity, self sacrifice, injury/gore mention, fear

Janus still hadn’t been entirely sure what exactly he was looking for when he began picking the lock to the office of one of the richest men in town.

Logan hadn’t been very helpful in that regard, only able to echo the vague descriptions he himself had been given over the phone: small, delicate, and feathered.

“Oh goody, that’s only about every passerine in existence,” Janus had snarked at the time, but a lack of specifics wasn’t going to stop them from getting the unfortunate animals out by any means necessary.

They had to be a social breed, too, going by the sounds of things, which bumped the urgency up a little further. Improper conditions and careless owners were bad enough, but for most domesticated birds, if one of a bonded pair died, the other was almost sure to follow.

That wasn’t even getting into the more exotic species. Janus was still hanging on to the slim hope that they wouldn’t be anything too wild, and thus much easier to rehome and rehabilitate without breaking any laws.

Well. Any more laws.

The door’s lock finally twisted under his lock picks, and Janus swung the door open smoothly, appreciating the silent glide of well-maintained, squeak-free hinges. Ah, rich people.

He made sure to close the door quickly behind himself, both for appearances and noise concealment. There was a good chance that whatever birds these two were, they would kick up a fuss at the entrance of a stranger, especially considering the fact that ‘frequent disturbances’ from the animals was the alleged reason Logan’s veterinary clinic had been contacted in the first place.

All living creatures made noise and had needs; even a preschooler could grasp that much. The fact that this grown man had been asking about the costs of invasive and debilitating surgical procedures before considering any alternatives or even telling them anything about the situation was sickening, and more than enough for Janus to agree to a heist riskier than their usual fare.

The room remained shockingly quiet as he crept forward, enough so that he began to wonder if their information wasn’t accurate after all, or if the birds had been very recently moved. Janus could only hope that nothing unspeakable had been done to them in the few days since the call.

Then, finally— a sound. The barest ruffle of feathers against each other, small in a way that meant they likely were dealing with something passerine-sized, which made things easier in a lot of ways.

Janus turned towards the sound, scouring the shadows of the unlit room with narrowed eyes until he found the silhouette of a birdcage. Finally.

He slipped a few trinkets off the shelves as he approached, despite knowing it would earn him Logan’s disapproval. The more they took, the longer they’d be pursued, after all. Still, he couldn’t resist.

The cage was still extremely quiet as he got closer, though he thought he could almost make out tiny, rapid breathing. He carefully checked the angle of the nearby window before pulling a small portable lantern from his belt and flicking its bulb on.

“Let’s see what we’re working with this time,” he mused lowly to himself, and lifted the lantern up to illuminate the inside of the enclosure.

The first thing he noticed was that calling it an enclosure was an insult to properly maintained terrariums everywhere. He’d seen children’s goldfish bowls with better enrichment in them than the nearly barren space within the birdcage. No perches, no chewable toys, no well-sheltered places to hide away…

No places to hide at all, really, which meant that he spotted the bundle of feathers fluffed up on the cage floor in the very next second.

The shape of it was odd, a pair of mantled wings displayed from the back, with odd shadows and disheveled feathers making it difficult to tell where the wings ended and the bird’s body began. They were trembling with strain, so he at least knew that the little creature was still alive.

“Hey there, little guy,” he crooned, setting the lantern next to the cage on the high display table and inspecting the thin wire door. “Give me just a moment, and we’ll get you somewhere much more comfortable, alright?”

For such a simple birdcage. there were a shocking number of locks worked into the latch and surrounding bars of the door. Janus felt a little impressed despite himself, poking at each extra layer of security curiously. “A bit of an escape artist, are you? Quiet or not, I’m sure you’ll be quite a handful.”

The sound of a very small, shuddering inhale split the air, and Janus’s hands went still.

Slowly, he shifted his gaze back to the bundle of feathers, which had grown even pricklier.

He’d heard parrots, ravens, and cockatoos alike imitate human voices, sometimes uncannily well, but he’d never heard them imitate a sob before. Was he imagining things?

There were different colored feathers mixed in, he realized, looking closer. Almost as though one bird had crowded in and attempted to completely cover the other with its wings.

And there was still something about that tangled silhouette that was wrong, for a bird…

More hurriedly now, he twisted the locking mechanisms open one after the other, and finally swung the cage door open. The gap was wide enough for a bird with a wingspan that size to dart through if they were quick about it, but it didn’t seem to be enough to tempt the little guy into moving.

In fact, the only sign that his presence had been noted at all were the progressively more and more ruffled feathers of the wings before him. The birds didn’t seem particularly reactive to a clear intrusion, which was honestly a bit worrying.

Making sure his gloves were concealing every bit of skin— it wouldn’t do to leave even a shred of evidence behind, after all— Janus slid an arm inside the cage and reached for the bird.

With a guttural hiss, the wings flared wider, and the very-much-not-a-bird twisted around to screech at him, lunging forward.

Only years of experience kept Janus from yanking his arm back out the door roughly with a plethora of swears, and even with that experience, he couldn’t stop his automatic jolt and the subsequent rushing of blood in his ears. The sudden flush of adrenaline made him feel a bit faint.

Or maybe he felt a bit faint because the creature before him was absolutely, positively, most certainly not a bird.

Illuminated shallowly by the lantern’s sickly greenish glow, a miniature person stood like an undersized angel, wings spread out in the air behind them in implied threat.

“Get any closer and I’ll scoop your eyes out with a rusty spoon!” the tiny being called out in a nasally tone, adding a very blatant threat to match the implied one. A threat Janus suspected was a complete bluff, seeing as they didn’t seem to even have a way to reach his eyes at the moment, let alone a spoon to execute the promised attack with.

Still, that was no reason to frighten the creature any further. He’d read far too much about small animals and the risks that shock from improper human handling could cause, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally make anyone keel over. If he could offer such courtesy to birds, he would certainly offer it to the impossibly small person standing rigidly before him.

(He felt a bit like descending into shock, himself, but he was far too professional to succumb in the middle of a high-stakes operation such as this one. No matter how tempting it was.)

He eased back a step, slowly withdrawing his hand until it could rest more casually on the doorway of the cage. “Well, there’s no need for that. I’ve found I rather like my eyes where they are.”

“Great!” The winged person bared tiny teeth at him, not relaxing an inch even as Janus did what he could to keep from looming. “Leave us the fuck alone, and I won’t tear ‘em out and stuff them up your—!”

There was a nervous keen from behind the winged person, and they cut off mid-vulgarity to shift to the side slightly, angling their wings to keep covering whatever was behind them.

Or, if Janus was correct, whoever was behind them. ‘Leave us alone,’ they’d said.

“Is your friend alright?” he asked, earning himself both a glare and the sort of high-pitched warning whistle he normally heard just before a bird started biting hard enough to draw blood. “Please. If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I’d have done so by now?”

The winged person scoffed, teeth still bared in a snarl that curled up at the edges, almost resembling a manic grin. “I don’t pretend to know when humans next want to hurt us or why,” they replied, words sharp as razor wire. “If you’re really feeling all kind-hearted and generous, howsabout leaving that door open and ditching this place without any living, breathing prizes? We’ll take care of the rest.”

Their tone was scornful, disbelieving that Janus could be here to do anything except take advantage of them, and looking at their current situation, he couldn’t even begin to blame them. Living in a featureless cage would have been detrimental enough for an actual bird. For a person? It was dehumanizing, isolating, tantamount to torture.

He had his suspicions, however, about the condition of the other one in there with them. They would be easy enough to confirm or deny by simply reaching in and moving the vicious one aside, but that sort of maneuver wouldn’t get him anywhere in terms of earning their trust.

Instead, he withdrew his hand completely, leaving a blank square of empty space in the doorway, ripe for escaping through. “Of course. If that’s all you need, I’m happy to oblige.”

Upping the stakes on this little gamble, Janus moved to the nearby window and shifted the window sash up along its frame, allowing cool air to billow into the room. Luckily, it seemed this one didn’t have a screen on the outside, so their theoretical way out was entirely unimpeded— so long as they were both in fit condition to fly.

The silence in the room stretched, thick with tension, and then a different voice piped up, just as small and considerably less harsh.

“If it isn’t too much trouble, could you also cut through the restraint?” the new voice asked, polite and friendly enough that Janus almost missed the tremulous note to it. “Two heads may be better than one, but four wings tend to get tangled up!”

“Patton—!” the first person hissed, only to fall quiet when Janus crossed the room to return to the cage.

They were still trying to conceal the existence of the other winged person, but it was mostly unsuccessful now that ‘Patton’ wasn’t cooperating.

Janus could make out the two different forms, now, and the thin, durable cord that connected the cuffs on their ankles. One cuff per person, chaining the two of them together.

He was surprised that they’d chosen to reveal the vulnerability— surely in such desperate times, they could manage to coordinate well enough to get away?— but obviously didn’t begrudge them the request.

Except the moment he shifted forward with a pair of wirecutters in hand, the first one puffed up even more aggressively, blocking the way.

“Nope, actually, that’s not happening,” they spat, faux-glib.

“Remus,” Patton protested, only to get lightly buffeted by a wing before they could complete the rest of their complaint.

‘Remus’ shrugged, an attempt at casual when they still looked ready to start mauling him at any moment. “Sorry, Sunshine! It turns out that where you go, I go! That includes abductions by random, well-dressed thieves, so sad, what can you do!”

“You can get out,” Patton retorted. “I’ll be fine, okay, so just let the human cut—,”

“SO SAD, NOTHING TO BE DONE,” Remus repeated over them loudly, before twisting to face Janus fully and finally letting their wings draw back in slightly from their overextended posture. The relaxation looked forced, a lesser of two evils. “Whatever you want us for, looks like you got a two-for-one deal, Jack and the Beanstalker! Better act fast before time runs out!”

Janus blinked, shifting his gaze between the two of them contemplatively, and then decided that whatever misconceptions they were inventing for him would take far too long to unravel at the moment.

Though his wings were tucked too tightly against their back to tell exactly how, Patton was clearly injured in some way, unable to fly, and Remus was equally clearly unwilling to abandon them. Just like actual songbirds, they would be in serious danger from wild animals if left grounded, so even if the injury wasn't debilitating, he couldn’t simply release them and be on his way. They needed help, which was exactly what Janus had come to offer.

And truth be told, he was still deeply curious about these two. Might as well kill two birds with one— hm. Better not to use that particular metaphor for this situation, now that he thought about it.

“If you insist,” he said, and reached for the collapsible bird transport container at his side before pausing. They weren’t actual birds, but he didn’t exactly have the luxury of a less humiliating method of travel on hand.

He was also running out of time. As unfortunate as it was, this would have to do. There would be plenty of time for explanations later.

”Excuse my reach,” he muttered out of habit as he leaned against the cage and held his hand out.

The two had automatically flinched back from a human hand in a way that made him feel ill and furious in equal measures, so he carefully reached forward and scooped the closer of the two into his gloved grasp the way he would have with an actual bird, gentle but firm.

It was Remus, and their body twitched in a way that made Janus suspect they were barely resisting the urge to inflict bodily harm on him, but they managed to limit themself to a narrow-eyed glare and an unhappy churr from deep in their chest.

He’d worried about the restraint connecting the two— he could only fit one arm through the cage door at a time, so he couldn’t exactly grab both of them— but the issue was neatly resolved by Patton immediately clambering onto his hand after Remus, reaching out and clinging to their friend’s arm like they feared they’d be torn away from each other at any minute.

Making sure to move slowly and not unbalance them, Janus withdrew his arm and two passengers from the cage, lowering them down to the display table where the carrying case waited. The two went tense in his grasp, but he made no move other than to relax his fingers into a flat surface, releasing the majority of his grip.

“I would offer to hold you all the way out, but I’m afraid I’ll need my hands free,” he said after a still moment, and this was enough to prompt them into motion.

Patton tugged at Remus’s shoulder, whispering rapidly at them about things Janus pretended not to hear, but the effort went nowhere. Remus marched into the transport case with only the ruffled feathers on their back giving away any sense of unease, and despite the agonized glance they sent toward the open window, Patton was only a half-step behind them. They huddled down in the far corner of the case, digging their fingers into the mesh like they expected it to be a harsh ride.

Discomfited, Janus zipped the entry up only most of the way and left the zippers unlocked. For someone who had been breaking through all those locks on the cage, the barrier was less than nothing, but it still didn’t feel like enough.

He knew why: Whatever attachment was keeping the two of them trapped in place now was far less tangible than any physical lock, and far more binding. Janus may not have been the one to create the trap, but he was utilizing it now, whether he liked it or not.

"Alright. I'm moving now." With careful hands, he lifted the case into the crook of one arm and strapped the lantern back onto his belt, turning towards their exit and wanting nothing more than to leave this stagnant room behind.

Hopefully, once he proved his intentions weren’t malicious, they would let him and Logan help. Hopefully, they would be able to fix whatever that monster had done.

For now, he would at least do what he knew he could, and get them far, far away from that miserable cage.

#sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts patton #ts remus #ts janus #jalr #just a little rush #my writing #writing

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nerdpoe · 11 months

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TWINcognito mode Part 3(Tim and Danny Pretend to be Twins AU) (But are they still pretending at this point lmfao)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, AO3

“Ah, I should let you know in case it comes back to bite me in the ass; the clone couldn’t grow a soul, so Ra’s made a deal with a demon and essentially kidnapped me from the afterlife to put in this body.”

Tim paused, cereal halfway to his mouth, and stared.

“Oh. Is…is there a chance of you leaving or being kicked out of your body or something?” His voice only shook a little, betraying how that was a possibility he did not want to consider.

Danny shook his head, shoveling the same cereal brand in his mouth.

“Nah, the body is bonded with my soul at this point; it is actually my body now,” Danny explained, using his spoon as a pointer, “But I had a few titles in the afterlife, so someone may try to summon me. If I randomly disappear in an eery, unexplainable fog, that’s why. I’ll find my way back though.”

Tim’s hand finished its journey and he took his time chewing the cereal.

“So we need a tracker, is what I’m hearing.”

“Probably, yeah.”

~~~~~~

John Constantine was in Gotham.

Bruce hated that sentence in its entirety.

Unfortunately, he needed Constantine’s input on his most recent…villain. He loathed to call Condiment Man a villain, but the idiot had managed to accidentally curse himself, and now everything his condiments touched was aging at a rapid rate.

It was a fairly standard meeting, all told, when Tim-no; Tim knew to be in the BatCave in uniform when they had company, and Bruce was almost 95% certain that Danny had never once joined him on patrol-Danny walked down the stairs.

John turned to look and Bruce, without thinking, lunged forward and slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Masks!” Bruce hissed, nodding towards where they kept the spares. Danny ignored him though, stopping at the bottom of the stair to gawk at Constantine.

“What the fresh hell am I looking at?” Danny asked, horror and disgust on his face as he leaned away.

“Wow. Nice to meet you too, mate.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Don’t insult my lovely little face.”

“Seriously, you’re disgusting. How do you live like this?”

“D-Janus!” Bruce cut in, catching Danny’s attention. Janus was a good middle ground; Danny would absolutely respond to it, and as the name of a god it was strange enough to be a codename. “Is this important?”

Danny slowly held out the phone in his hand, eyes never leaving Constantine.

“Red Robin said you weren’t answering your phone, he needs an answer now or he’s storming the human trafficking gang without backup.”

Bruce would have loved to massage the growing migraine away, but his hands were occupied forcing Constantine to stay in place and covering his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll look over his messages. Tell him not to move forward without confirmation. If you’re not going to cover your face, you have to leave. We have company, you know the rules.”

Danny wrinkled his nose and turned around.

“As long as I don’t have to be in the same room as the person who thought it was a good idea to essentially scalp himself and bleed all over the place.”

“Oh love, I’m sure that no matter how ugly I look I’m bloody roses compared to you.”

“I said don’t talk to me!” Danny shouted, disappearing from view as he left.

“You have lovely children, Batman.” Constantine drawled.

Bruce walked away from the magic-user to address the messages that Tim had apparently been sending him, quickly arranging for Red Hood to assist at the last second.

“My apologies; one of my children is…not into vigilante-ism. He can forget the rules.” Bruce bit out, switching back to the Condiment Man case.

Constantine hummed, still looking up the stairs.

“So, how’d your kid get the ability to see souls?”

“Classified.”

Bruce had no idea. He wasn’t about to let Constantine know that, though.

~~~~~~

Alfred was not a fool.

Something was up, and it had to do with Master Tim.

It had been a month, and he was running out of patience waiting for Tim to tell him what was wrong. It had gotten to coffee cake levels of desperation; as in Alfred was baking a coffee cake to bribe Master Tim into telling someone, anyone if he wasn’t comfortable with Alfred, what was going on.

“Hey Alfred. Oh, cake!” Master Tim said behind him, reaching out to snag some of the batter.

Alfred deftly turned the spare wooden spoon on him for his efforts.

“Master T-!”

“Hey Danny, what’s-oh, cake!” Master Tim’s voice said from his left.

Alfred paused.

Alfred took a deep breath.

Alfred looked behind him, and then to his left.

They were nearly identical. Their hair was styled a bit different, one was wilder than the other, and Master…Danny slouched a bit more, but ultimately if one did not know that there were two of them, they could switch and no one would be the wiser.

…No one had been the wiser.

Alfred thought back to the research he’d seen Master Bruce had been doing so desperately in the BatCave. He’d always hid the files before Alfred could read them, but he had caught the vigilante muttering about Time Streams and irreversible changes.

Alfred was almost completely certain that prior to Master Bruce coming back, Master Tim had never had a twin.

From said twins point of view, things would be per usual. It would be rather rude to admit that he didn’t remember the lad at all. But what could he do? He genuinely did not.

He would have to have a little talk with Master Bruce regarding updating him when there were such additions to the family.

“...Unfortunately, Master Danny, I made this cake with Master Tim in mind. I was unaware of your own preferences; If you have any, however, I would be glad to hear them.”

Master Danny smiled brightly, and-yes; there was another difference between the two of them. Master Danny was a bit freer with his emotions than Master Tim. It would be best to catalog them now, to prevent something like mistaking one for the other.

“I’m actually a big fudge fan,” the family’s newest member admitted, trying to sneak another taste of cake batter.

Alfred took the wooden spoon to the offending hand again.

New or not, he was no exception to the rules.

It was better to rip the bandaid off, so to speak, rather than say or do something offensive that he did not remember from Master Danny’s past.

“Now, I understand that you are Master Tim’s twin? I fear I cannot recall you, my sincerest apologies. Might I ask that you inform me of any food allergies and general likes and dislikes?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t. Remember me, that is. I’m a clone, but we decided to be twins.”

Alfred paused in his stirring.

Then he smiled; he knew where this was going. He’d known Master Tim long enough to know of the lad’s wicked streak.

“I take it this is a secret, then?”

“Told you he was the best,” Master Tim intoned, licking espresso powder off of his finger. The little devil had used his newfound twin as a distraction!

Master Danny laughed, causing Alfred to look over just in time to see him licking a piece of batter off of his finger.

The scallywags.

~~~~~~

The kid in front of him was oblivious to anyone watching him. He had opted for sitting on a bench at the local park, facing the seriously polluted pond. He had a capri sun juice pack in one hand and his phone in the other, and the holds for the leashes attached to the Hyenas lounging on him were wrapped around his ankle.

Oh yeah.

This wasn’t Timberly.

This was all Dann..er…ino?

Huh.

He’d have to work on that.

Well, that was why he wasn’t in uniform or wearing a mask; he was here to explain why he hadn’t been shitting on the Imposter as much as he had been the Replacement.

“Hey,” Jason said, dropping down from the tree and standing directly behind the Imposter’s Imposter.

“Fuck!” Said the Imposter, dropping both his capri sun and phone.

“I just need to clear some things,” Jason drawled, walking around to Danny’s front and then standing there awkwardly.

He’d thought about what he was going to say, he swore he had, but it was just…shitty. How the fuck did he explain that he’d forgotten a person’s entire existence?

Danny just stared at him, ignoring the hyenas licking his face.

“Tim’s fucking annoying,” damn, he was starting off strong with this, apparently. Danny looked largely unimpressed. “No, I mean. He’s a know it all, thinks that refusing self-care is cool, and is just so painfully awkward it makes me want to carve out my eyeballs. So. That’s why I give him shit.”

“And you also slit his throat,” Danny added helpfully.

Jason scowled.

“What, like I’m the only one who’s slit a family member's throat? He isn’t special.”

Danny opened and closed his mouth, before finally just turning his face into the fur of one of the hyenas and letting out a muffled scream.

“Anyways-”

“No, go back. Who else got their throat slit?”

Jason sighed and tugged down his shirt collar, revealing his own scar.

“The Old Man gave it to me, happy?”

Danny did not look happy. Danny looked the opposite of happy.

Danny’s eyes had started glowing a lazarus green.

“Was this deliberate?”

Well shit. There was a difference right there; Tim could sound for all the world like he was being threatening, but Danny could accomplish sounding outright terrifying.

“No; he was aiming to clip me and I managed to get shoved into it.”

The lazarus green faded, leaving a yet again unimpressed teenager.

“Oh, so it’s not similar at all. You were just an idiot.”

Oh look, more lazarus green, but this time from Jason!

“Okay, so we have our issues. The point; is I don’t remember my issues with you.”

“Wait, what?”

The green receded and Jason shoved his hands into his pockets, looking anywhere but Danny.

“I…don’t remember you. At all. I don’t know if I treated you with the same level of contempt, or if we were on good terms. I don’t know. So. We’re gonna have to start fresh, and I’m gonna have to learn who you are now as opposed to who your records say you were.” Every word felt like it was being pulled through his teeth.

He didn’t want to see the kid’s face. He didn’t want to know what someone looked like when they were told that their family didn’t fucking know who they were.

“Hold that thought, I have to tell them you were the first. Tim thought you wouldn’t be, but I told him that assholes are just the right amount of brutally honest the world needs.”

What?

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Danny finished typing on the phone and looked back at Jason.

“Naturally, you wouldn’t remember me. I’m a clone, I didn’t exist until like three months ago, and Tim and I decided to proceed as twins. We were just messing with everyone and we were about to call it, but Barbara’s price for helping us with the paper trail was forcing the Bat’s to admit they don’t know something.” Danny shrugged, with a ‘what can ya do’ air about him.

Jason felt his mouth opening and closing.

“Oh.”

Danny nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, oh. I still fully intend to cause you grief.”

Fucker.

“No plans to enact vengeance on Timberly’s behalf for said throat slitting thing?”

Danny shook his head, leaning back.

“That’s Tim’s revenge, and he’ll get to that, trust me. That’s already in motion. I’m just here to fuck with you.”

He was going to fit right in; he was just as insufferable as Tim.

“Fine. I guess we’ll get to know each other through me beating the shit out of you, just like I kicked the crap out of your twin.”

The little shit snickered at him. Snickered!

“Good luck. Hey, Dick! Jason broke my phone!”

Jason spun around, arms up in preparation to protect his face from another punch.

There was no one there.

When he turned around, there was no one on the bench either. When he looked around, he saw Danny wave at him as he walked through the fence and took the hyenas with him.

Jason swore.

Density shifting. Of course.

“So that’s how you fucking moved me around the forest.”

Yeah, Jason wasn't saying shit to the Old Man.

He would just sit back and enjoy the show.

~~~~~~

Dick wasn’t sure how to make up for forgetting a person's entire existence. Was it forgetting if that person had previously not existed?

From Danny’s perspective it would be forgetting, so Dick would go with that.

He had come prepared; since he didn’t know what Danny liked, he had bought three pizzas with various weird toppings and one with just pepperoni, had grocery bags full of snack foods, had another grocery bag with various energy drinks, and was full of excitement at getting to know the kid.

But when he arrived at the door to the penthouse, it was already open. In fact, it was held in place by what appeared to be Tim’s briefcase from where it was haphazardly thrown. The smoke alarms were going off inside, and Dick rushed in to see what was going on.

One of the twins was in a large, oversized NASA hoodie and was standing on top of the counter, desperately swinging a towel at the angry, screaming smoke detector. The other one was in an Armani business suit and shoving a flaming pan into the sink in an attempt to drown it in water. The stove bore a few scorch marks, but was otherwise fine.

“How do you not know how to cook fish?!”

“I’ve never done it before and then I don’t know, it started smoking and I freaked out!”

“So you turned up the heat?!”

“I turned the dial the wrong way is what I did, it was an accident!”

“...I can’t leave you unsupervised in the kitchen. I can’t leave you-shit I have a date with Bernard in like an hour…listen, if I tell you to just order takeout, whatever you want and however much you want using my card, will you stay out of the kitchen?”

Danny, because that was who hoodie-twin had to be, stuttered in indignation, and Dick decided to make his presence known.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward, holding up his many treats.

The boys stared at him like he was an alien.

“I may have a solution to this,” Dick started, walking forward to rest his burdens at Danny’s feet on the counter, “It’s called ‘I haven’t hung out with Danny in a really long time, and maybe we should do that’.”

Tim sighed, leaning against the counter.

“Can you keep him out of the kitchen?”

“I am not that bad.”

“This is the fourth time this week you set off the fire alarms, and I’m ready to pay Jason cold hard cash to force you to learn how to fend for yourself.”

Dick frowned, glancing between the two of them.

“Can’t you teach him? From what I remember you’re actually a pretty phenomenal cook.”

Danny jumped off the counter, lightly floating to the ground as he shrugged.

“Tim’s also a vigilante on top of being the CEO of one of the world's biggest tech companies; which means he’s got no time.”

Tim, on the other hand, made a face and shook his head.

“I don’t normally cook, like Danny said; no time. I wasn’t joking about Jason, by the way.”

Danny just made a very big put-upon sigh and meandered around Dick and to the pizza.

“So what’s the plan tonight, Dick?”

“Well, I-”

“Because ever since we’ve been introduced, we’ve literally never hung out.”

What?

What had past version of him from Danny’s memories been doing?

Fine. His past self was an asshole and it was his loss, it just meant that Dick could be upfront and ask what Danny liked without being suspicious.

“That was stupid. I was stupid. Let’s hang out.” The sentence was disjointed with how much rage Dick was directing at his past self, and the knowledge that he couldn't actually do anything about it.

Danny and Tim traded looks, communicating between themselves in a way that Dick couldn’t read.

“Do you have anything else to say?” Tim asked, his face cleanly wiped of any expression.

Dick frowned, shaking his head. He didn’t care that Danny had apparently been previously ostracized, he didn’t care that he couldn’t remember it; he was going to fix it.

Tim slapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, squeezing it briefly before walking towards his room.

Danny grinned.

It was a feral thing, and some part of Dick was a little afraid.

“If that’s all you have to say then, I think it’s time to get started.”

~~~~~~

Damian found himself in a conundrum.

He had been carefully observing Timothy and Daniel, noting how they behaved and their differences, and was almost certain that he could easily tell them apart.

Honestly, they were so obviously different that he was ashamed to admit he had ever considered one to be the other.

Timothy would never tuck him in, and during that training exercise months ago he was certain it had been Daniel tucking him in. Timothy would never resort to a childish nickname to rile Damian’s ire, but Daniel had no such qualms. Timothy would never resort to puns in front of Damian, but Daniel used them all the time.

But most damning of all?

Daniel would have a cup of coffee, but he gravitated more towards juice. Daniel refused to help with any cases, and would cite that his brain wasn’t in the Detective Mindset. Daniel leaned more towards vegetarianism with occasional meat products, but only sometimes.

They were two completely different people, and Damian had stained his honor as his Father’s blood son by not recognizing that immediately.

Currently, Daniel was sitting across from him in the Manor Library, swiping through something on the tablet in his lap. There was a glass of apple juice next to him, a plate of fudge on the side table, and…yes, Damian could see it now.

Or rather, not see it.

The neckline of Daniel’s hoodie was pulled down, and it revealed a neck free of scars.

How had he ever mistaken one buffoon for the other?

His mannerisms towards Damian tended to be on the more friendly side compared to his twin. Damian took this to mean that the one he had stabbed had, in fact, been Timothy, not Daniel.

Their previous relationship appeared to lean more towards typical sibling antagonism, if the few moments of comfort Daniel offered in the shadows were any indication.

It was this realization that made Damian pause.

Daniel did not seem to seek vengeance for Timothy, and while Damian could attribute that to cowardice, he knew without doubt that it was because he fully trusted his twin to enact any justice that Timothy felt needed to be served.

Which meant that his relationship with Daniel was…surprisingly free of bloodshed.

Nor did Daniel put him on a pedestal, excusing his actions and coddling him.

To Daniel, Damian was just…Damian. El-witwaat. His little brother, to whom he had a duty to annoy.

His plan to include Daniel by convincing him that they never forgot him was all well and good in theory, but Damian did not know how to interact with a sibling that did not hold a grudge against him or only see what they thought he could be, rather than what he was.

“Something wrong, el-witwaat?” Daniel asked, not looking away from his tablet. The name did not bring about the rage that Damian was expecting; just the same emotions that flashed through him when Richard called him ‘Dami’.

Yes, if it had been Timothy that small degree of warmth would not have been present. Grudging respect, maybe, but not any form of warmth. The warmth in the tone, Damian thought, made the difference between accepting the absurd nickname and stabbing Daniel in the eye.

“I find myself wondering what hero name you will choose, now that you have returned from your mission,” Damian replied rigidly, wondering if this would be yet another contender for Father’s mantle.

Daniel just let out a short bark of laughter before presumably choking on his own spit.

“No, no no no, no more vigilante-ism for me,” Daniel answered after he had managed to calm down, “I’m done with it unless it’s a world-ending threat and all hands are needed.”

Damian was confused.

“But you have powers. Generally, metas with powers such as yours find themselves taking up a moniker and-”

“-But statistically speaking, how many metas exist that you’ve never heard of?” Daniel interrupted, going back to his reclined position sideways on his chair.

Damian did not know.

“Listen, being in the League of Assassins, even just to get information, was…well. You and Jason would know better than anyone in this family. And Tim, but he’s not ready to talk about that yet. It…” Daniel trailed off, and Damian was suddenly very aware that he was probably going to hear something that was not in the mission report.

“I…did not get all the information I was supposed to. I got caught.”

“And you’re still alive?” Damian hissed, finding himself leaning forward without any intention to do so.

“I’m my brother's identical twin, Damian. I’m not the detective he is, I’m not even the same person he is, but Ra’s didn’t see it like that. He just saw Tim 2.0.” Daniel shifted, presumably to get more comfortable.

Damian read between the lines.

His grandfather had captured and more than likely attempted to brainwash Daniel.

“Your first interaction with us after getting back was at the brunch,” Damian speculated, ignoring Daniel’s surprised look, “But you came back to Gotham before that, did you not?”

Daniel smiled at him. Another difference, Timothy would never do such a thing, but it was similar to his twin in how tired of a smile it was.

“Tim had to set my head straight for a bit before I could come see you all, yeah. I’m seeing a therapist, don’t worry; we’re making sure to do everything possible to make sure I don’t relapse.”

Damian nodded.

Looked down at the book in his lap.

Then nodded again.

Unlike Timothy, Daniel appeared to take his personal mental wellbeing seriously. Obviously he would take the steps required to ensure he could recover.

From what Damian had managed to gather, Daniel was clearly the superior twin, after all.

Daniel heaved out a massive sigh and floated up to a standing position, directly in front of Damian.

“Come on, let’s go look at BatCow; it’s around time to feed her anyways,” Daniel stated, motioning towards the clock, “I’ll muck out the stable if you do the feeding her part?”

Yes; Daniel was the superior twin.

So why did he look guilty?

~~~~~~

Bruce paused at the threshold to Tim’s old room. Well. Tim and Daniel’s old room. And what had past him been thinking, to force them to share a room when he had so many open?

“-I don’t know, Tim, I just feel guilty about lying.”

Lying? What was Danny lying about?

“Danny, please tell me where what you told the little demon was a lie.”

“I…the getting caught part?”

“Oh, so you were there of your own volition?”

“No! You know I wasn’t-”

“And then you chose to get brainwashed into being a slave?”

“Tim you’re being deliberately obtuse-”

“They’re yes or no questions, Danny. It’s your trauma, how you choose to share it is your business.”

The room behind the door fell quiet, and unfortunately gave Bruce time to think.

Danny had been brainwashed?

He needed to look at the facts.

He still hadn’t been added to the Bird of Prey roster, despite what Barbara had claimed. There were many reasons for that happening, but the biggest one would be if he was either too injured to go in the field or retiring.

Danny had been on a deep cover mission in the League of Assassins, the mission report from which was surprisingly sparse and jumpy. As if whoever was writing it was trying to remember something they’d been forced to forget. The League was run by Ra’s, who had an unhealthy fixation on Tim.

Danny was Tim’s identical twin, for all that they were very different.

The word ‘slave’ bounced around his head and echoed in his ears; it was not a title he wanted any of his children to have, remembered or not.

It was easy to figure out from there, and Bruce was rather overcome by the sudden need to see both Tim and Danny.

The scene awaiting him in their bedroom was…sweet.

Danny was lying sideways on the bed, his head resting on Tim’s leg as he scrolled his tablet, and Tim was leaning against the headboard, presumably working on a casefile on his laptop. They both turned their heads to stare at Bruce when he walked in, looking rather like owls.

‘Slave’ slowly faded from his ears, but stayed in the back of his mind.

He’d deal with Ra’s when the time came.

But at present, both of his sons were safe.

“Danny, Tim. I was just…checking in. Is everything alright?” Curse his inability to make meaningful conversation when it wasn’t a life or death situation.

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

Then Danny hauled himself out of the bed and walked over to Bruce.

Bruce tried not to let too much excitement show on his face.

“Actually B, I was wondering if I could have some input on choosing a major?”

Ah, so Danny really was retiring.

Thank god, at least one of his kids would be out of the direct line of fire.

“Sure Danny,” Bruce agreed, moving out of the way so they could go to his office, “Whatever you need. Like your own room, maybe.”

Danny paused, halfway out the door, and slowly turned to look at Bruce like he’d grown a second head.

“Bruce…this is my room. Tim moved out, remember?”

Behind them, he heard Tim choke on something.

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to check on the twin behind him, however, due to the intense mortification he was feeling.

Danny wasn’t emancipated?

Danny was still legally a dependent in the eyes of the law?!

Had Bruce kicked him out of his own house?!

Bruce leaned against the doorframe, feeling rather faint, and re-evaluated his life choices while simultaneously cursing his past version of himself.

“Uh, so…maybe we should wait on the college thing until you’ve slept, huh?”

Tim was wheezing behind him.

Bruce deserved that laughter. He deserved a punch to the face, honestly.

He’d kicked a minor out of his home, he was no better than-

“B?”

“No. No, your education is important to me.” Bruce ground out, draping a heavy arm around Danny’s shoulders and steering him to his office.

He would make this right.

He had to make this right.

~~~~~~

Some unlucky fucker was knocking on Jason’s door at ass-o-clock in the morning, and they were gonna pay.

He hadn’t bought out the entire building just to be woken up by fucking salespeople, of all things.

Gun in hand and green in his eyes, Jason tore open the front door and-that was Danny. Tim’s twin, for all that Jason could not see him as anything else.

He was standing on Jason’s doorstep, a large hoodie draped over his skinny-ass frame, and looking up at him expectantly.

And Jason was standing in his doorway in his underwear like a moron.

“Uh,” Jason started, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Danny handed over an envelope full of what looked like money.

“Tim wants to pay you fifty thousand per lesson to teach me how to cook.”

…Well. Shit.

He still wasn’t sure where he stood with the little test tube twin, but money was money, and it wasn’t like teaching someone how to do something as simple as cook was hard.

Fifteen minutes into his first lesson and Jason retracted that statement.

Fifty thousand was not enough.

His ruined Hexclad pans sat smoking in the sink as a testament to Danny fucking Drake-Wayne’s failures.

The reason for his ruined kitchenware was sitting on the kitchen floor, looking stunned and staring at the probably third-degree burn he’d definitely have to go to the hospital for.

He was upping his price, and Tim was buying him new pans.

@terzatheunderscorerima @darkbiscuitvoidstudent @akikkobara @reach-for-the-horizon @bitter-coffeecup @moodycow210 @kisatamao @thefantasmarex @fisher-with-the-morbs @jaguarthecat @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @moonshell25 @tundra1029

#dpxdc #dcxdp #phanfic #twincognito mode #tim and danny pretend to be twins au #but they aren't really pretending anymore

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skeletinmoss · 2 months

Note

tell me more about the color shuffle au 👀

(if you want!! no pressure)

I'm not sure yet what I want to do with this story. Maybe a fic with illustrations.

Thomas is a magical shapeshifting macguffin, who gives others a weapon and ability to transform/color change.

Patton was the first one to get that power when he saved puppy Thomas from a scary black monster. He has cards which can open portals.

Second was Virgil, who got possessed by a monster and later saved by Patton. A lollipop in his mouth turned into his weapon. He can make in big and use it like a sledgehammer, or cause a destruction around him by biting it.

Those two are the most powerful ones. Yet they couldn't save their world, they released a creation that should have destroyed all of the magic. And to not harm themselves they fled into the other world. Things went wrong and they realized they have no home to come back to.

They met others in this new world.

First was Remus. In the old world he was Virgil's best friend, but this one had no idea who Virgil was. But in their first meeting he saw V fight and joined with his bat, helping until Thomas and Patton could join. His bat got an upgrade.

Logan got possessed like Virgil did getting a power of omnivision and smokescreen. He owns a bar and others decided to use it as their base. Patton and Virgil work there to pay for their stay.

Janus and Roman were the recent newcomers.

Roman's weapon is a fan that can be a shield or a blade. He was not happy with it at first, but only because he had no idea how to use it.

Janus' weapon is a feather boa. It can change size and J can animate it to move like a snake. It also has a mouth which opens up after the transformation.

They both have no idea how to interact with the rest, slowly learning the whole story and figuring out their weapons.

Remy and Emile maybe coming

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #character thomas #ts thomas #thomas sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #color shuffle au

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anxiousgaypanicking · 23 days

Text

Tail

Moceit (Patton x Janus) Hypnovember 2020 Day Fourteen: Tail Warnings: hypnosis, pet play, plugs, barking, blowjobs, humping, crying

Though Janus's eyes look as though they're focused on the TV in front of him, he's truthfully staring at Patton in his peripheral. As some generic host drones on and on on the screen, Janus pats his hand against his thigh, mostly just a subconscious action.

He'd been doing it for the past few minutes, but had only recently realized Patton was staring at him. Staring at his hand.

He was doing it noticeably, too, head turned fully to look at Janus. While Janus was good at being subtle, Patton absolutely was not, and so Janus seized the opportunity to observe his strange behavior. Patton was the one who'd turned this (otherwise uninteresting) show on; why would he pay more attention to Janus's hand than an engaging television series?

Finally, as the show goes to commercial, Janus turns to Patton, who's face flushes as his eyes dart up to meet Janus's.

"Oh!" Patton exclaims, as though he's been caught doing something he's not supposed to, despite Janus having said naught. "Sorry."

Janus raises an eyebrow. "For what?"

That has Patton closing his lips immediately, and turning to look at the television. He shrugs instead of answering, but that only furthers Janus's curiosity. As Janus hits his palm against his thigh again, Patton's head is immediately whipping towards him once more.

That has Janus humming in amusement. "Do you want to sit on my lap or something?"

His playful comment only worsens Patton's flush, who stammers over an answer before his hands come to play with the sleeves of his cardigan. Patton reacts like Janus patting his lap is an invitation, in such a way that Janus equates him to a cute puppy, though that though additionally stems from just how embarrassed Patton seems to be at his own actions, like they're involuntary.

Janus doesn't even bother to hide his amusement, a grin spreading across his face. After a few moments of Patton's flustered silence, Janus playfully murmurs "you know, typically, when someone asks a question, they expect an answer."

"Sorry," Patton squeaks.

Janus chuckles. "Is your attention truly so easily captured by someone patting their thigh? How cute."

Patton stumbles in response, unsure how to answer. Luckily, Janus keeps talking, giving him little opportunity to respond.

"Patting your lap is commonly how one would get the attention of some yappy little puppy! Patting at their thighs, baby talking the thing." Janus hums, glancing at the television, before looking back at Patton. "Honestly, if there was a cute little dog around, I'd be a lot more entertained with it than with whatever's on TV right now."

Janus motions to the slop shining over their screen.

"Neither of us are paying much attention to it, anyway."

In order to emphasize this point, Janus softly drums on his thighs with the palms of his hands, this time directly staring at Patton. Teasingly, Janus asks "what urges are plaguing your mind right now, love?" smirking slightly, he's quick to add "and would you like to act on them?"

He's overly confident in his words, despite the fact it's stemming from a rather intense bit of speculation, considering Patton hasn't implied in the slightest he'd be willing to do something so forward.

And admittedly, Patton's initial response has Janus briefly doubting his assumption, wondering if he perhaps overstepped. He's staring at Janus, mouth agape, unsure where to focus his gaze, and so his eyes flicker nervously around the room.

And yet, rather surprisingly, Patton scoots closer after a few moments, pausing just short of Janus's thighs. It has Janus letting out a closed mouth chuckle, before he teasingly asks "do you need help, love?" already moving to slide his hands around Patton's waist, and with a bit of effort guide Patton onto his lap. Patton's hands quickly find and grasp Janus's shoulders, with his legs straddling Janus's thighs.

Janus's hands rub over Patton's pudgy stomach, before sliding up his sides. He cocks his head to the side, grinning at Patton. "Are you satisfied now?" he inquires, though his words are overly playful. "I could tell you'd been wanting to sit in my lap for the past fifteen minutes, at least."

Patton chews his inner cheek, before softly mumbling "yeah."

Janus lets out a pleased hum, continuing to rub over Patton's stiff body, before he murmurs "you're like a puppy." And when Patton perks up, overly interested in the comparison, Janus continues. "A dumb puppy," he clarifies, pushing his knuckles teasingly against Patton's temple, "who just wants to sit on his owner's lap, and be held. Do you want to be pet, too?"

Janus's hands stop their rubbing, awaiting Patton's answer.

But Patton just shifts his position on Janus's lap, avoiding eye contact as he replies "no! No, of course not. That's-" Patton bites his bottom lip, before taking in a deep breath, and turning to face Janus fully. "You're being silly. I think... I think I just want affection right now. Normal, standard affection."

Smile falling, Janus gives Patton a rather dramatic pout at the answer. "What a shame," he sighs, leaning back against the couch cushions; his hands are still on Patton's hips. "Having a puppy around to pet would entertain me quite a bit." Janus then bitterly flicks his wrist towards the TV. "Much more than whatever's on the tele."

"You can change the show if you don't like it," Patton quickly insists, but Janus just squeezes Patton's waist firmly in turn.

"There isn't any way I could possibly reach the remote now," Janus argues, though he holds Patton tight enough that Patton couldn't slide off of Janus even if he tried. "Besides, petting a puppy sounds way more fun than watching TV. And I'm lucky to have a rather cute puppy right in front of me! You are a cute puppy, right?"

Patton hides his face, attempting to obscure his bright red cheeks.

Janus ignores his embarrassment, and keeps speaking. "The main type of affection puppies receive is petting, love. It's the type of affection a puppy like you would crave. But... if you don't want that, that's fine by me."

Janus shrugs, and then shifts to get comfortable, before dropping his hands away from Patton's body.

He lets Patton just sit there for a moment, while Janus leans partially to the side in order to act like he's watching television, even though the show was in fact incredibly boring. However, Patton shifting around on his lap at the sudden loss of attention is anything but, and Janus has to bite back a grin when a whimper slips past Patton's lips.

"Fine," Patton finally says, rather meekly. He's playing with his fingers. "If... if you really want to, then I guess you can... I guess you can pet me."

He struggles to say it, but his eventual admission (and subtle shift of the blame from his own wants to Janus's) are incredibly cute, and so Janus lets it slide.

Leaning closer to Patton, Janus's hands plant themselves back on Patton's waist, and pets over his body a lot more sensually than before. His hands rub over Patton's ribs, around his back, and then over his waist. With his hands around Patton's midsection, Janus pulls Patton closer, until they're pressed chest-to-chest. Then, his hands are sliding down further, caressing his lower back and upper ass, before his palms circle around to Patton's spread thighs.

Janus is confident with all of his touches, which further encourages Patton to avoid meeting Janus's eyes, even though he's very noticeably enjoying himself as Janus feels him up. And he lets himself be touched casually for a bit. That is, until Janus is leaning his head against Patton's soft chest, tilting his face upwards with knowing eyes. His hands still against Patton's legs, and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Whispering, Janus says "I know you like this, but... I have a feeling you want a little more."

Janus very lightly squeezes at Patton's thighs, pushing his thumbs slowly into the fat, and rubbing deep, firm circles into his legs. "Lucky for you," he continues, "I have a wonderful idea. Would you like to hear it?"

Patton's still visibly flushed, especially at Janus's implications that he himself might want more (which is an overly accurate assessment), but he slowly nods his head.

He squeaks when Janus finally runs his hand over his crotch in turn, teasing the front of Patton's khaki pants and rubbing over what is obviously the start of an erection. While touching him so lewdly, Janus insists "I know how to turn you into a proper puppy. Sure, you're acting like one, but you don't look the part."

Janus suddenly squeezes Patton's bulge, making Patton gasp and moan as his fingers curl around Janus's shoulders.

"And once you're nothing but a cute, dumb pup, I'll get to spend all day taking care of you," which are words Janus emphasizes by rubbing more harshly over Patton's front, making Patton buck his hips as he tries to rock his clothed cock into Janus's hand. "Would that be something you'd enjoy, my dear?"

"Yes!" Patton shudders, rolling his hips against Janus's palm. "Please!"

With a rather enthusiastic verbal agreement, Janus has no qualms in pushing Patton off his lap, and standing up, pulling Patton up off the couch before releasing him and beginning to walk towards his room. And when Patton doesn't immediately follow, Janus turns to face him.

With an amused look on his face, Janus pats his thighs, saying "come on, boy. Aren't you excited to come with me? Excited to get a nice treat?"

Patton visibly shivers, but quickly shuffles forward, until he's at Janus's side, and following him obediently to his room, his face bright red. As they walk - both of them fast-paced and thrilled in their own right - Janus praises Patton, offering soft compliments such as "what a good puppy!" and "such a good listener," which has Patton tugging at the collar of his shirt, feeling as though he might start panting if Janus is any more casual with this.

Once they're in Janus's room, the door is being pushed shut, and Janus is already moving towards his closet.

"Be a good boy and strip for me, won't you?" Janus asks, as he sifts through his closet, luckily finding a headband with attached puppy ears and a tail plug - which he's been keeping on-hand "just in case" - as well as a thick collar.

Patton undoes his clothes slowly, but manages to get fully nude by the time Janus turns back to him, arms full of accessories. As Janus lays them on the mattress, he guides Patton to sit on the edge of his bed beside them, and praises Patton for being so obedient when he does.

Patton's thighs press together as Janus lifts the headband first and foremost, and turns it side-to-side to show Patton how the cute, blonde puppy ears move.

He slides them into Patton's hair, careful not to accidentally pull and hurt him, until the band is nestled perfectly atop Patton's hair. Janus's fingers then pet through Patton's locks, rousing his curls until the headband itself looks mostly hidden, and the two ears look like they're sprouting from Patton's own head. Then, he's taking the collar and clamping it around Patton's neck, with a nice, long leash being hooked on one of the loops quickly after.

Janus gives it a firm tug, Patton being yanked forward, before the leash is dropped and Janus is smiling, satisfied with the way Patton moans at the brief choking sensation.

"Flip yourself over for me, love," Janus then instructs him, as he grabs some lube from his nightstand. "Bend yourself over the bed."

Doing as he's told - like a good puppy would - Patton turns over, his feet hitting the floor and his chest hitting the sheets. As he presses his body into the bed, the collar presses into his neck, making him while. But what really excites him is when Janus's hands squeeze his ass, before one hand gropes and spreads his cheeks apart, while Janus's fingers - coated with an excess amount of lube - presses against his hole.

Janus is teasing at first, circling his index finger around Patton's entrance, before slowly pushing his pointer and middle finger in, scissoring Patton slowly and carefully.

Patton moans as he feels Janus's fingers curl inside of him, and gasps loudly when the tips of his fingers suddenly push against his prostate. He goes to beg for more, but Janus is already giving it to him before he can, slowly thrusting his fingers against that spot while Patton's cock rubs against the side of the bed.

"Please," Patton moans, as he grips the mattress tightly, drooling when Janus adds a third finger, stretching Patton open.

But after just another minute or two, Janus's fingers are slipping out. Patton whines at the sudden loss, and opens his mouth to complain, only to suddenly feel a plug be pushed inside of him moments later, and fur brush against his ass.

Janus leans over him, jostling the plug as he both rubs Patton's waist, and pets through his hair. "There," he proclaims, sounding overly proud. "Now you look like a proper puppy. Isn't this wonderful?"

It's hard for Patton to look at Janus while feeling overwhelmed with humiliation, but he still feels compelled to react to Janus's question, and so nods his head.

This is wonderful, albeit embarrassing.

He gasps a little out of surprise when Janus presses his hand firmly against Patton's back and pushes his chest farther into the bed, humming in thought for a moment before pulling back and stating "hm. This simply won't do."

As his hands slide away from Patton's body, Patton is turning his head to face Janus, worriedly asking "what's wrong?"

His voice is trembling, revealing his desperation. He doesn't want this to stop - he feels more aroused than he's ever felt in his life! - but Janus's tone is making him nervous. He briefly worries if he's messing this up somehow, especially as Janus stares at his exposed body, as if evaluating him.

"You're so, so close to being the perfect puppy, but you're still a little... off," Janus explains, tapping at his chin. His eyes are narrow as he scans over Patton's back, and meets his eyes briefly, before Janus is maneuvering Patton onto his back instead, chuckling in amusement at the way Patton immediately squeezes his thighs shut to hide his hard cock. This new position - with his hips further up on the bed - causes the plug inside of him to shift around, making Patton whimper.

Patton's rush to hide his body though has Janus suddenly lighting up, and going "this is what I mean! A proper puppy would just pant and drool-" Janus slides between Patton's legs and slowly pushes them apart "-and keep their legs spread like a good mutt. But you're held back by that silly mind of yours, which still insists you're a human with pride and dignity."

Janus runs his hand up Patton's stomach. "Will you even bark for me, love? Go on. Bark."

Face going bright red at the command, Patton can only muster a squeak, being silenced by his own humiliation. He can't bark for Janus, regardless of how hot the command is. It's too embarrassing! So, instead, he murmurs a soft "sorry! I'm sorry. I can't."

He covers his face with his hands, while Janus rubs over Patton's stomach softly, attempting to silently comfort him. Then his hands slide up further, and he pulls Patton's hands away in order for Janus to kiss his lips.

"I'll help you," Janus assures him, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'll ease you into becoming a perfect, obedient puppy, but you have to trust me."

"Okay," Patton whispers.

Janus helps him sit up. "Relax, love. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Trust me. Trust me. Do you want me to help you, Patton? Would you like me to turn into a shameless, obedient pup?"

Patton nods, but Janus just chuckles.

"Speak, puppy. Yes or no."

"Yes. Yes, please," Patton stammers, and in turn has his chin tilted up by Janus, enough so that he meets Janus's eyes. And spirals activate within Janus's irises.

They swirl and spin in such a mesmerizing way, captivating Patton entirely and causing him to breathe in heavily, and breathe until his chest feels empty. Janus guides him to relax further, telling him his body is so heavy; so heavy he can hardly move. His brain is empty and open, waiting to be filled by Janus's words. And once Patton's dizzy and drooling, Janus blinks away the spirals in his eyes, and rummages around for the plug's remote. One he didn't tell Patton about, as to not spoil the surprise.

Without hesitation, he's suddenly turning the plug to the highest setting.

Patton's body arches, a sluggish, loud moan spilling from his lips, but he's been walked so deep into a trance that he's luckily not broken out of it. Janus would pat himself on the back for his trancing skills if he wasn't already so enraptured by Patton's blank, mindless stare, and his cute, pleasured jerks as the plug buzzes inside of him.

"I'm going to take care of you," Janus coos, thumbing away a trail of spit that's leaking steadily from Patton's mouth. "You'll be a proper, silly pet. Are you excited?"

He's not surprised when Patton doesn't answer with anything other than a tired moan, gasping when Janus's finger rubs over Patton's slit, with his other hand slowly clicking the intensity of the vibrator down. Once it's to the midway point, Janus speaks once more.

"The higher the intensity of your cute little plug gets, the dumber you get. Do you understand that?" Janus lowers the vibrations lower, and lower, until they've nearly stopped completely. "Each time that buzzing gets more and more intense, more and more of your thoughts will slip away. Your shame will, too. You'll be an obedient, barking mutt after just a few rounds. Okay, puppy?"

Janus raises the intensity a bit, watching as Patton's eyes roll back into his head, before he adds "you won't have any embarrassment or inhibitions stopping your urge to hump and rut against the nearest surface. You're just a puppy; of course you want as much pleasure as possible!" The vibrator speeds up, and suddenly Patton's hips buck, looking as though he's struggling to stay sitting up. "The only thoughts in your head are about how you're a good, cute puppy, and you love to obey your owner."

He flicks the vibrator up more, and watches Patton stupidly try to hump the air, cock straining for attention.

Janus flicks the intensity up again, making Patton cry out as he's forced deeper and deeper into an obedient, shameless, puppy mindset. Then, the vibrations slow, until Patton's cock is leaking just as much as his mouth is.

Janus thumbs a bead of pre away from Patton's cock, and then holds his thumb in front of Patton's mouth.

"Lick, puppy," Janus commands him, and watches as Patton stupidly leans forward, taking Janus's finger into his mouth and sucking over it desperately, his tongue slobbering all over Janus's digit until Janus pulls it away. As a reward, his plug is turned up again, until it's at about a medium level. Enough to be noticeable, but not enough to overwhelm Patton sooner than Janus wishes to. After all, there's quite a lot he wants to do with Patton; it'd be a shame to have him overstimulated too early!

"Puppies love to be pet," Janus then says, cementing his words into Patton's brain. "They love to bark, they love to obey, they love to crawl and kneel and pant. And they love to be pet."

He then gently runs his hands up Patton's thighs, and is delighted when Patton's tongue rolls out of his mouth, a dumb smile on his face and his eyes nearly crossed. He happily pants at the touch and tries to lean into it. Moaning, Patton arches into Janus's hands as they caress his stomach, moaning in excitement as Janus's fingers brush over his body.

He feels so good, and that's all he cares about.

Not the drool dripping off his chin and onto his thighs, or the way he obediently keeps his legs spread to make sure Janus has more room to rub him everywhere, which Janus does. Janus slides his hand anywhere he can reach, cupping Patton's face, stroking his hair, groping his chest; Janus's palms glide anywhere but his cock. Then, he uses his hands to alter Patton's positions. He moves Patton fully onto the bed, and then onto his knees, with Janus wiggling his face mockingly once Patton is kneeling on the mattress.

As he brushes some of Patton's curls out of his face, Janus asks aloud "do you know how to do any tricks, love?"

As expected, the only response Janus gets is a mindless, drooling smile, and soft moans as Patton lightly fucks himself back on his plug. Janus can't help but admire just how cute Patton looks, but only appreciates the view for just a moment before going "speak, puppy. I want an answer."

He watches as the command takes a moment to register in Patton's mind, before Patton excitedly barks, not seeing anything remotely humiliating about it!

He's a puppy, and good puppies bark!

"Good boy!" Janus immediately praises him, scratching the underside of Patton's chin with two of his fingers. "You're so good. Do you know what good boys do when they're happy?"

Patton looks a little confused at the question, not having any thoughts in his brain aside from what's already been put there, but his confusion just encourages Janus to sweetly call him "a silly boy," as he shakes his head back and forth with amusement.

"A good puppy wags their tail when they're excited," Janus generously explains. "Can you show me how you wag your tail, pup?"

Almost immediately, Patton is pushing more of his weight onto his arms in order to lift his hips up, and wiggles clumsily back and forth, enough to have the tail inside of him swaying side to side. He quickly falls into the rhythm of doing it and becomes more absent-minded and excited, moaning as he feels the plug jostle and shift inside of him.

"Good boy," Janus coos, before he steps away. "Though, last I checked, pets aren't allowed on the furniture. And here you are, sitting on my bed! Silly mutt; you belong on the floor."

Janus pats his thigh, calling Patton to his side, and watching as Patton looks over the edge of the bed, before carefully sliding off of it, and landing on his knees on the floor. Eagerly, he crawls forward until he's seated before Janus's thighs. As a reward, Janus flicks the vibe up again, and watches as Patton cries out in pleasure, his head lolling dumbly to the side.

"Do you want a treat, puppy?" Janus then asks, already reaching to undo his zipper. "A treat for being so good? Bark for me; tell me you want a treat."

With drool streaming steadily down his chin, Patton barks, before smiling happily, feeling good when he obeys.

Janus pets through Patton's hair, whispering soft praises at him in a babying, almost mocking way, but Patton can only understand Janus's tone, and Janus seems happy, so Patton is happy. He pants as he's pet, while Janus works his pants down just enough to pull his cocks out.

He guides Patton closer by his hair, until Patton's sitting back on his calves in front of Janus's hard cocks. Patton stares at them, almost entranced, before cocking his head up at Janus and rubbing his hand over Janus's leg the same way a puppy would paw at someone's thigh. Janus chuckles at the impatience, but doesn't scold Patton for it, instead musing at his desperation.

However, after a few seconds of nothing, Patton leans forward to lick over them, giving into his arousal and instincts. This immediately gets him scolded though, as Janus pushes him back by his forehead.

"Bad puppy," Janus tsks, though softens a bit when Patton shrinks at the chastising. "You're not allowed to move without my permission. Good, obedient puppies listen to their owners. Don't you want to be a good, obedient puppy?"

Patton barks quietly at first, hips rolling against the floor, before barking louder with a mixture of apology and desperation, eyes struggling to stay focused up at Janus's face when all he wants to stare at is his treat.

Patton whimpers as Janus keeps his palm rested against his forehead, pouting as he stares at Janus's cocks, before looking up at Janus with wide eyes behind his circular frames. He attempts to push his nose against Janus's wrist to be affectionate, and when Janus pulls his hand away, Patton rubs his face against Janus's thigh instead, making cute whining noises as he does so. And Janus really can't resist him any longer.

So, he runs his hand down to Patton's collar, and grabs his leash, twisting it around his hand a few times until he's got a firm grip on it, and Patton's pulled close to him.

The tips of his cocks bump against Patton's mouth, teasing him. Antagonizing him. But Janus just softly counts down from three, before going "go ahead, puppy. Accept your treat," once he reaches "one." And Patton does, immediately rubbing his face against Janus's shaft like a whore. His tongue sloppily drags over the slits of his cocks, before he suckles on the tips of them, and then pulls away, a thin line of spit connecting his lips to Janus's cocks.

He crosses his eyes in order to stare up at Janus, panting happily with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Janus reaches his free hand over Patton's head, briefly scratching behind his faux puppy ears, before suddenly grabbing a fistful of Patton's hair and properly shoving one of his cocks into Patton's mouth. He lets the other drag across Patton's face, rubbing Patton's own spit back into his foreheads as beads of Janus's pre drip into his hair.

He winds up more of Patton's leash so that Patton doesn't have enough room to pull away, and makes Patton moan at the pleasant, tightening sensation around his neck, as well as the way Janus's cock feels pressing against his tongue and pushing deep into his throat.

It makes his already foggy head feel even fuzzier. He gags, but he's hardly aware of it, and doesn't bother trying to pull away in the slightest. Because he doesn't want to. He wants his treat.

Patton’s messy and intense with his sucking, moaning when Janus guides him fully down, making him choke around the base of Janus’s cocks, nose pressed against Janus’s pelvis, before Janus loosens his grip on the leash and lets Patton pull away.

Once more, he has to push on Patton’s head to keep him from immediately going back down.

Patton whimpers and whines when he’s denied yet again, but Janus just chuckles before he’s grabbing both of his cocks with one hand.

“Can you be a good boy for me and take both?” Janus asks, watching Patton’s dumb brain slowly process the question. Patton blinks, audibly panting, before suddenly smiling wide and barking. He again tries to move forward, but this time Janus lets him, petting through Patton’s hair in order to praise him.

“You’re so cute, pup,” Janus coos, “so cute and eager and obedient."

He lets Patton move at his own pace, and quietly moans himself when Patton sloppily licks over his cocks once more, before beginning to slowly guide Janus’s cocks into his mouth as Janus holds them still. It makes his jaw ache, but he sucks anyway, moaning at the heavy weight pressing into his mouth and the way Janus’s pre tastes leaking down his throat.

He cries out messily when Janus turns his plug up even higher, and pushes his head further down Janus’s cocks, until they’re about halfway in his mouth. He gags, eyes welling up with tears.

Unable to get them past that point, Patton takes to pleasuring them with his tongue, moaning around them and making Janus sigh in pleasure in turn. He stays stroking through Patton’s hair as Patton chokes on his shafts, and listens as Patton tries to shift his hips and drive his plug further into him while simultaneously humping the air.

With the leash pressing into his palm, Janus suddenly gives it a light tug, urging Patton further down and watching him struggle.

“You’re such a dumb pup,” Janus muses, in a babying voice, which has Patton looking immediately more confident and excited. “You hardly know what’s going on! All you know is being stupid and happy, and sucking cock.” Patton’s tongue drags over the length of his shafts at the praise, hips jerking excitedly.

It doesn’t take long before Janus slides one of his legs between Patton’s thighs, giving him something proper to rut against. And Patton does, immediately grinding his own cock over Janus’s shin, and whining immediately at the friction. Janus moans quietly in turn due to the pleasant vibrations coursing up his cocks.

Patton’s own precome smears over Janus’s pants as his pelvis humps desperately against Janus’s leg, desperate for any little bit of pleasure while his mouth is used as Janus’s fleshlight. He’s sucking obscenely, and making even lewder noises while his cock rubs against Janus. He’s needy and horny, and stupid and obedient.

“Good puppy,” Janus moans, becoming less and less careful of Patton’s headband while petting through his sweaty hair. “Such a… such a pretty boy.”

Janus has to bring his knuckles to his mouth in order to muffle any particularly embarrassing noises that threaten to spill from his lips as a result of Patton’s messy, noisy sucking. He’s bobbing his head quickly, swallowing as much of Janus’s cocks down as possible, before sliding back the tip and drinking down Janus’s pre, and then sinking again.

His fists press against Janus’s legs to keep himself from clumsily falling this way or that.

With his eyes welling up with tears, Patton’s humping becomes more clumsy and intense, grinding his cock feverishly against Janus’s shin. He’s moaning repeatedly with each slide against Janus’s pants, and when Janus rubs his leg against Patton’s cock in turn, Patton just lets out a choked cry. A few tears spill down his red cheeks, as he feels his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Janus watches Patton’s face contort in pleasure around his cocks, a mixture of drool and tears smearing over his slick, sweaty face. Patton’s a mess, and it’s beautiful.

“Are you close, my puppy?”

Patton makes a slew of dirty, wet noises in response, no doubt affirming Janus’s question. He’s so hot and close, and his dumb little puppy mind just can’t hold himself back! He’s got no restraint. No humiliation. Nothing holding him back. So when Janus turns his plug vibrator up all the way, Patton feels overwhelmingly pleasured and mindless. He pushes himself down on Janus’s cocks, gagging himself once more, as his hips stutter against Janus’s leg. He comes quickly over Janus’s pants and his own thighs, making a mess of them both. His eyes roll back into his head as he humps sloppily throughout his orgasm, before he stills, more slowly bobbing his head as his foggy mind struggles to remember that his real treat is still yet to come. So, Janus graciously helps him out.

With his fingers curled in Patton’s hair, Janus takes to thrusting his cocks down Patton’s throat, making Patton choke as his mouth is used like a toy. But he likes it. He likes being good for his owner.

With quiet moans coming from his own mouth, Janus eventually shoves Patton’s face halfway down his cocks and comes down his throat, having to bite his bottom lip hard to keep his noises repressed. Patton chokes on his semen, but swallows down all that he can, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows twice, thrice, and then is allowed to pull away.

Panting, Patton slumps against the floor, watching with tired, foggy eyes as Janus tucks himself back into his pants, and then kneels down beside him.

Being careful of the come decorating Patton’s own stomach, Janus slides his hand along Patton’s front, petting over his body. “Good boy,” Janus whispers, soft voice echoing throughout the hot room. “You did so well. How do you feel?”

And in response, Patton barks.

#moceit #moceit smut #sanders sides #sanders sides smut #not safe for sanders #agp smut #hypnosis

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cassiaratheslytherpuff · 2 months

Note

james lives AU prongsfoot bingo pls? 🥺❤

Thank you for asking! This is one I've been working on recently and hope to finish at some point🤞

It's about what might happen if, instead of dying, when Voldemort came that Halloween, James was temporarily separated from his body and just had to watch what happened without being able to interact or do anything. (Which is probably not good, I think it was supposed to be a fluffy prompt and I made it super-angsty)

November 7th 1982 The Janus Thickey Ward is always quieter than James feels it should be. They moved him here after two months on Spell Damage, and he’s still not used to it after almost a year. He sits on the bed where his body rests and tries to figure out how long he’s been gone this time. It’s happening more often now – and for longer each time. He blacks out, loses time, and wakes up beside his body. It's the only time he comes back to the hospital. The rest of the time he spends with Harry or Sirius, though every moment breaks his heart a little more. When he manages to get back in his body, he’s going to murder everyone responsible for him having to know how long it took Harry to realise no-one was going to come when he cried, to curse them with the pain he felt when he watched his son quiet his own sobs and curl up on himself. James hasn’t heard him cry since, and it breaks his heart with every passing day. He’s going to make them scream for the way he felt watching Sirius turn into Padfoot to howl with grief, because his human voice was too ruined by screaming. He’s going to make them scream for how James sobbed when he realised Sirius wasn’t coming back. He’d been the dog for six months now, and James desperately misses the sound of his voice. Misses how he used to talk to James and Harry to keep sane in his cell. Because James did hear, even though Sirius thought he didn't. James goes to stand from the bed, and for the first time in a year he feels resistance as he does. He looks down at his own face and has to let himself hope. Because that’s the way his existence goes. He watches the people he loves suffer, he mourns Lily, and he forces himself to hope. Forces himself to keep trying, because if he gives up – he can’t give up. So, he has to bear the disappointment when it doesn’t work. He lies down in bed, letting his form line up perfectly with his body. He makes himself focus, matches his breathing with that of his body’s. Tries to feel the sheets under his body, or imagine an itch on his nose. A tiredness beyond words washes over him and he lets it, lets it pull him down until he knows he’ll pass out again if he lets it pull him deeper. And then he strains. He forces his eyes open, forces his chest to draw breath. The tiredness doesn’t abate, and he sighs. He wills himself to Harry’s side, but he stays put. Confused, he sit’s up, fighting the exhaustion. But something is different. He can feel the bed as he braces against it to sit. He hurts. Because his body hurts. And when he looks down at the bed, nothing’s there. An alarm goes off, and in seconds the Healer that checks in on him most days comes rushing through the doors. “Mr. Potter,” he says, eyes wide. “You’re awake.”

#prongsfoot #ask #angst #cw: child abuse #cassiwrites #wip game

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 7 months

Text

Code Words | Risk Assessment

*materializes into existence* Okay, I don't want to overwhelm you or like, spam you. I've already requested something before that got answered (which was a very cool and awesome fic, btw). So yeah. But if you are taking requests (if not, it okay. Take care), may I suggest some h/c with Logan comforting Roman? Idc about plot. Just a general ask. I just finished the most recent addition to Code Words, so I am still recovering from that entire masterpiece. Anyway, take care of yourself! Have fun :D – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

Read on Ao3

Warnings: described past torture, mention of past relapse, some violence, non-explicit

Pairings: none, all gen

Word Count: 5987

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Roman's hands clench and unclench at his sides as he stares at the closed door. It looks so innocuous; it's just a conference room, on the second floor of the main compound building. There's a window on one side. He can see silhouettes through the cloudy glass. He knows exactly what's about to happen. He all but asked for it to happen. There's no reason for him to believe he can't do this.

Footsteps to his left and he turns to see Logan walking toward him. He's all buttoned-up again—slacks, badge, even the familiar dark blue notebook tucked into his hand. The only difference between this and all the other things Roman's seen him go to is there's a soft smile on his face. Something that unconsciously relaxes his shoulders as Logan draws closer.

"Good morning," he says, still speaking in the soft voice from a few days ago, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I just swallowed a bunch of stinging nettles."

Logan chuckles. "I have forgotten how well you use your words in unexpected ways. Despite that, I'm—well, I'm not surprised to hear it."

Roman glances at the door again. As if sensing how much he's trying to make it disappear with nothing but his glare alone, Logan rests a hand on his shoulder.

"You are not being punished, Roman. You will not suddenly become 'in trouble' over the course of this meeting. No one is expecting perfect behavior or complete recovery. You are hurting, we know. This is—"

"To help make it go away, yeah, I know." He hunches his shoulders. "Sorry for interrupting."

"It might be time we retire that one too," Logan mutters, mostly to himself, before he gently bids Roman to look up at him. He cups the side of Roman's face. "I'm here for you. In whatever capacity you decide. It would be best if you spoke for yourself as much possible, but if you want me to say something for you, I will."

A lump forms in his throat. He swallows it down. "Thanks, Logan."

Logan offers him another one of those soft smiles and pats his shoulder. "Whenever you think you're ready."

Roman looks back at the door and with a surge of courage he doesn't feel, reaches out and pushes the door open.

As soon as he spots the three people already seated inside, he wants to run away again.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

"Roman," the man sitting at the head of the table says, smiling, "good to see you. Would you care to have a seat?"

Roman glances around and picks the seat the furthest away from the others with his eyes firmly on the door. He gives a quick nod to the man who spoke and directs his gaze down as Logan comes in too, murmuring a greeting to the others. Roman wasn't quick enough to control himself not to see the mustachioed man in a cargo jacket and Janus watching him sit down. He curls his hands together under the table and picks at his palm.

I can do this. I can do this.

"Well," the man at the head of the table says, prompting Roman to look up again, "just to get us started, I'm Patton. I work in the Psych department. I've worked with Logan numerous times in the past but as of right now, I'm unfamiliar with the rest of you, except by name. Would you care to introduce yourselves, or shall we proceed?"

Roman glances around at the others who are doing a great job of pretending they're not looking to him for cues. He swallows. "Roman. Agent 34689. Level 3."

"Logan," Logan says next, "Agent 7985. Level 8."

"Janus." I'm not there. He's not Deceit. This is what needs to happen. "Agent 1432. Level 9."

"Remus," says the last man, shifting slightly in his chair. "Agent 69420. Level 9."

"Pleasure to meet all of you, though I wish it had been under different circumstances." Patton adjusts his glasses and sets a pale blue notebook at his elbow. "To give you a bit of background, I'm here on behalf of the Psych department to clear both Roman and Janus out of their last mission, and to figure out what happened with the initial debrief to plan an appropriate course of action. Under normal circumstances, of course, much of this information would be Level 6 only, but those restrictions are temporarily suspended for this meeting."

Something catches on his fingernail and Roman looks down to see he's picked one of his calluses down to a blister. He smooths his thumb over it as though that would make it go away.

"Roman?"

He jerks. He looks up. They're all staring at him. Why are they all staring at him? They need to stop staring at him.

"If you wouldn't mind," Patton says, "could you tell us how the mission went for you? From the initial brief to arriving back at campus."

Roman's back tingles. He swallows. "You want—all of it?"

"If possible yet."

"You—um, I don't think—" he swallows again— "I don't think me saying everything Deceit did to me would be good for either of us."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Janus shift slightly and Remus rubs his thumb against his forefingers. Patton nods. "You needn't go into explicit detail if you don't wish to, but as thorough of a timeline as possible would be helpful."

I can do this. I can do this.

"I—I was told that there was an up-and-coming member of the gang that needed to be stopped. They were—he—the gang was looking to expand their operations into a new territory and was threatening the civilian population. I was to uncover how far they wanted to go and how much they knew about—"

"It's simple," Deceit remarked almost conversationally as the other goons sniggered, "you tell me what you know, and this stops."

Roman grits his teeth, arching at the pain in his spine—stop, stop, stop—

Logan lays a hand carefully on his and interrupts some kind of feedback loop. Roman takes a deep breath.

"How much they knew about us."

Across the table, he hears Remus bite back a curse as Janus fully closes his eyes. Even Logan looks pained.

"What? Why do you all look like that?"

"I believe they're trying to understand why you were assigned the mission in that way," Patton says, drawing Roman's attention back to himself, "would you like to continue?"

"I was given a rough location of where the gang's prospective headquarters were and an apartment in the area they were looking to take over. I was told not to contact the Agency unless it was an emergency or I was submitting the reports at the request of my handler."

"And how often was that?"

"Every few months on a non-schedule schedule. The longest gap was eight months."

Patton writes something down in the notebook. "Alright, thank you."

"I—do I keep going?"

"Yes, if you wouldn't mind."

"I first—um—we first—the first time I saw—" Roman sighs in frustration before turning across the table. "Am I calling you Janus or Deceit for this?"

"Whatever you want, sweetie."

"That's not helpful."

"Deceit, then, for undercover work, and Janus when we're here."

"Great. The first time I saw Deceit, then, was at the Skyrail Bridge. We'd gotten a tip that the gang was smuggling its weapons over the bridge to take root in a new warehouse and I went to stop it."

"Did you receive any direct correspondence to do so?"

"No, I just said I wasn't supposed to talk to the Agency. They didn't talk to me either."

"Why not just follow the truck, then," Remus asks, "to see where the new headquarters was?"

"Yeah, truck chock full of volatile explosives traveling through a heavily populated civilian area, why wouldn't I want that?"

"We're not here to discuss how the mission should have proceeded," Patton breaks in, quietly yet firmly, "Roman, if you would?"

Remus looks not at all chastised and returns to rubbing at his fingers. Roman takes another deep breath. "There was a way to trip the signal tower to shut down the bridge for the night. It wouldn't do anything against the truck if they chose to—I don't know, drive it through the barricade, but I figured they'd want to prioritize discretion over—whatever the hell you'd call driving through a bridge barricade."

Logan turns away to hide a smile.

"As the barricade came down, I saw Deceit get out of one of the cars next to the truck. He looked at me and said something to one of the other men he was with. I saw a car following me as I went home that night. I managed to get through two weeks before they held someone hostage at the bank nearby the apartment and used it as a distraction to get me somewhere they'd jump me."

He shifts in his chair and, despite himself, glances over at Janus.

"That's the first time we met face to face."

Janus nods silently. Patton writes something else down. "And how did that go?"

"I have a new aversion to jumper cables and a few burn scars on my back, that's how it went." Patton just nods and motions for him to continue. "Uh—he wanted to know what I knew about the gang and how I knew about the truck."

"And did you tell him?"

"Fuck no."

Logan doesn't say anything, but he's only had the privilege of knowing that Logan's proud of him a few times in his life. He'd sure as shit known to remember what it feels like.

And so it goes. Despite the way his hands shake and the way the scars start to ache again, he makes it through the painful years. How he'd been captured, interrogated, tortured, over and over not always at the hands of Deceit, but enough to make it known. How every time he'd try to do something to stop the gang, they would always know he was coming at least two hours beforehand. Sometimes that was enough for them to get away clean, other times things got really, really messy. By the time he gets to his capture at the gang's compound, he's trembling.

"I was kept in an isolated ward. I only saw Deceit. I—I tried to escape once but the terrain around the building was—I didn't make it." I'm not there. I'm not there. I'm not there. "There was a raw end to the bedpost."

Patton frowns. "I'm sorry, there was a what?"

"The bed. It was made of metal. One of the edges was still sharp. It didn't—like it was unfinished."

"I see."

"I cut up the mattress to make shoes. I used the springs inside to make them stronger. I tied them onto my feet and ran away in the middle of the night when the coast was clear."

"So that's how you did it," Janus says under his breath. Roman glances up. Janus doesn't quite meet his eyes but the ghost of a smile plays on his lips.

"I laid low for a while after that. I had to figure out how to restock my first aid cabinet, but—"

"Sorry," Logan interrupts, sounding equal parts regretful and suspicious, "what do you mean, restock your first aid cabinet?"

"One of the first things I did when I got the apartment was cobble together an at-home pharmacy, basically. So I had to—"

"You weren't given a safehouse with proper medical equipment?"

"This place barely had working walls and roof, it sure as hell didn't have anything that could possibly be considered medical grade." Logan's mouth tightens. "Why?"

"Sorry for interrupting," Logan says lowly, turning away, "please."

Roman eyes him for another moment before continuing. "So I restocked—I think I may have traumatized the person working at the 7/11 nearby, though."

"How so?"

"I mean, I stumbled in at three in the morning covered in blood asking about liquor and dental floss, probably not the greatest first impression. I don't think I got too much blood on the floor, though—oh, shit, I definitely did. Oops."

Logan pats his knee.

"Um—the next time we met was at the docks."

Janus, who had been listening to his whole spiel, suddenly looks down and away, his mouth tightening. No small part of Roman surges at the sight of him so visibly uncomfortable, after all the times he's sat back and hurt him, watched him be hurt, laughed at him being hurt, how does it feel? How does it feel to get ripped apart while other people are watching? Does it hurt? I hope it hurts. I hope you hurt as badly as I do.

But the smaller part of him, the part that's still curled up on the cold dock floor, swallows.

"Do…do you want me to stop?"

He doesn't respond for a moment, not until Patton prompts him softly. He looks up. "You're asking me?"

"Yeah."

"Don't worry about me, sweetie." Roman just glares at him. "What?"

"Kid's right," Remus says, his voice suddenly softer too, "this meeting's supposed to be for both of you. No sense in you getting hurt here too."

Janus turns to look at Remus with such a vulnerable expression that Roman's skin crawls with self-disgust. As Remus leans closer to whisper something to him, the two of them craft such a bubble of intimacy that he feels like a voyeur, stealing something he isn't supposed to see. He turns and Logan's there, reaching to sling an arm around his shoulders and let him rest his head against his chin. The hand on his back rubs in soothing circles.

"You're doing so well," Logan whispers, his voice a little thick, "so well, little one. I'm so proud of you."

"This is hard. This is really hard. I'm—I can't help it."

"Shh, shh, it's alright. You're doing spectacularly."

They sit in the quiet for a few more moments before they hear the rustling of someone sitting up. When Roman looks over, Janus is nodding with his eyes closed. He looks at Roman and Roman's heart twists at the sudden redness of his eyes.

"Whenever you're ready."

Roman swallows. "There was a ship. It was supposed to come in. It carried thousands and thousands of pounds of amphrilax."

Everyone in the room apart from Janus tenses.

"If it got into the city, it would—even if only a fraction of it was actually used, it could wipe out the entire population in one of the wards in a matter of days and would get into the whole city proper within a week. And it would be almost impossible to ensure the water supply was clean."

He shifts. The fabric rasps across his lower abdomen.

"I couldn't let that happen."

He can still feel the wind on his hair. He can still smell the stench of the harbor. He can still see the massive silhouette of the ship in the dead of night, acrid smoke billowing into putrid clouds. He can still hear the hustle of the gang members as the ship sailed into port, as it drew alongside with its terrible cargo as fleets of trucks arrived to deliver the poison into the city's bloodstream.

He can still feel the hand that grabbed the back of his collar as he pressed the distress beacon.

"They dragged me down by the ship."

The henchmen laughed and leered as the gang member held him up like a mangy dog.

"They beat me."

They took pipes and wrenches to his back. They wore steel-toe boots. They laughed and jeered and spit on him.

"One of them had a knife."

They don't tell you that it doesn't feel like you get stabbed. It feels like you got punched until the fire spreads and you look down to see red all over your hands.

"He just watched."

It was so cold. It's so cold.

It's so

cold

"Roman," Logan's calling, "Roman, little one, you need to breathe."

He is breathing, isn't he? He was talking. Also he needs to breathe so he doesn't pass out from blood loss. Wait. Is he bleeding? He doesn't think he was sitting down when he got stabbed. He's not at the docks. Where is he? Oh, right, he's in a conference room. He's at the compound. Logan wasn't at the docks. Logan is here. Logan's right here. He's in the compound. He's in the meeting. He's…he…

…he can't breathe.

"Look at me. Look at me, Roman." A hand on his face and he looks at Logan. "That's it. Focus on me. You need to breathe, now. In for three…out for five. Good. It's alright, try again, in for three…out for five…in for three…out for five…"

"I'm alright."

"Are you back with me?"

"Yeah…yeah, I'm here." He closes his eyes and rests a hand on his stomach. He's not bleeding. He's safe. He's not there. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, little one. It's alright. You're doing so well."

It's safer to talk just to Logan right now. He fists a hand in the fabric of Logan's sleeve. "The sirens started and Deceit—Deceit said they had to cut their losses and go. He argued for a long time but eventually they just took a few barrels and left. He—when he was about to leave, he leaned down and told me that I owed him a favor."

He tries to choke back a sob. He fails.

"It hurt so much, Logan."

Logan doesn't say anything, but a hand slides up to the back of his head and cradles him there, gentle fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. He struggles to hold in the rest of the tears and just manages to choke down the lump in his throat.

"Okay. Okay, I'm good. I'm good. I'm good now."

"Let's take a break," Patton says softly, "I need a moment to organize my notes and grab a drink."

"Come, little one," Logan says, beginning to stand, "let's get you a drink too."

Shame burning in his cheeks, Roman closes his eyes and lets Logan bundle him out into the hallway, down past the doors, to one of the bathrooms. The lights flicker on as the door shuts behind them and he can't hold out anymore.

"Hey, hey," Logan murmurs as he all but throws himself into his arms, "shh, I'm right here. It's alright, little one, you're safe now. I've got you. You're doing so well, I'm so proud of you."

"It hurts, it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't do this, I can't do this—"

Logan just wraps him up in a strong embrace and oh, if this had happened half a dozen times when he was still training, he swears he wouldn't be as fucked up now. Logan is big and soft and warm and he smells like coffee and Roman's getting his shirt all gross and he's a complete fucking mess and absolutely not something to be proud of but Logan said he is proud of him and—and—

He collapses into a heap of tears in Logan's arms.

Logan just holds him. The anchor in the storm, his arms tightly around Roman's shoulders and waist, his mouth pressed near his ear. He lets out soft shushing noises that wriggle into the tight spool of tension in his chest and dissolve it bit by bit. When Roman's sobbed his heart near free from his mouth, he adjusts his grip slightly and begins to whisper.

"Listen to me, now, little one. Just listen. You are doing an incredibly difficult thing right now. This would be challenging for any operative at any level. And you have done it admirably. Shh-shh, you have. Do not hold yourself to the standard of doing this perfectly. There is no perfect way to do this. You are doing it, that is the most important thing."

He pauses before continuing.

"I know in the past I have caused you to doubt my faith in you. My trust in you, the pride in you I have. I will do my best to make sure you never doubt it again."

"I'm scared," Roman whispers with the last of his hitching breaths, "I'm so scared."

"I know, little one. I'm right here."

Fuck it. I'm scared and someone is offering to comfort me. I'm staying here for as long as I fucking want.

So he does.

In truth, he has no idea how long it's been until he can move without feeling like he's shattered into a million pieces, even if bone-weary exhaustion traces every step he takes until he can stagger to the sink to splash cold water on his face. He grabs the paper towels and pats his face dry, wincing at how puffy he looks in the mirror.

"This looks bad—" sounds bad too— "right?"

"It does look as though you've been crying," Logan says softly, "but it doesn't look 'bad.'"

"Well, fuck it."

Logan chuckles softly as they leave the bathroom, stopping for a drink before returning to the conference room. Roman reaches out to turn the handle, but something makes him pause. After a moment, he knocks.

"Come in."

He opens the door and takes his seat, mumbling an apology about taking so long.

"No worries, kiddo. Do you feel up to continuing?"

"Yeah." He glances over at Remus and Janus—the latter of which gives him the smallest of smiles. Remus has one hand dropped beneath the level of the table and it doesn't take any special deduction to figure out why. "Um—so after the docks, I didn't see Deceit until you came by for dinner."

Remus barks out a laugh. "Wait, you're serious?"

Roman nods. "It was December. I went to go visit my family. And then my mom opened the door and there he was. And she invited him to dinner."

"Did you go?"

"I wasn't about to turn down a home-cooked meal," Janus says with a glimmer of amusement, "and I had a feeling she would…persuade me."

"Oh, she would've knocked you out and sat you up at the table, for sure."

"Your mother truly is an excellent cook."

"She wants you to come back, you know."

"Does she?"

"Mhm. She wants to know when your birthday is too." When Janus makes a face, Roman shrugs helplessly. "I don't know. It just—she's—I don't know."

"So," Patton says, getting their attention, "was this…planned in any way?"

"No. I thought—I thought he'd found out about my family and was going to threaten them if I didn't cooperate. But he said he'd just run into my mother at the store and didn't know it was my mother." Remus is still trying and failing to stifle his snorts. "We, um, went for a walk. And then he came to dinner. And then he left."

Remus snorts. Then he starts laughing properly. After a moment, Roman joins in. Then Janus, then Logan, and eventually Patton starts laughing too. It's surreal, really, but then again so was that dinner. They needed it.

"I think I still have the photos in my phone," Roman says through his giggles, prompting Janus to sober a little.

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"Wait, there are photos?" Remus leans across the table. "Show me."

"Remus," Logan says quietly but Roman's already pulling out his phone. Patton leans in as well as Roman finds the photos.

He pauses for a moment, looking at them. They really do look happy in them. A perfect postcard. Unbidden, Logan's words about them getting along if they'd met under different circumstances drift through his mind.

"Don't hold out on me, kid."

"Right, sorry."

Remus peers at the phone. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open. "Holy shit."

"They really are good photos," Janus says as Roman turns the phone to show Patton.

"Would you mind sending me a copy?"

"Sure. Uh, now?"

"Later is fine." Patton writes down something on another line and turns the page. "Was that the last time you saw each other?"

In an instant, the humor fades. Roman goes to pick at his palm again when Logan catches his hand and holds it. He swallows.

"No."

"When was the next time? Or what happened next in the course of the mission?"

Roman swallows again. He just had a drink too. "Gredence Square."

"And what was Gredence Square?"

"Sweetie," Janus says softly, "you don't have to—"

"Don't fucking speak for me."

Janus goes silent immediately and Roman closes his eyes.

"Sorry."

"No need."

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

"Gredence Square was the next place rumored to be attacked. I went to scout the location but I was captured. I was interrogated by Deceit. I was emotionally compromised due to our previous interaction. I was—I was relieved of my misconceptions. Deceit left. The other two gang members tried to kill me. I escaped. I returned to my apartment. I sent off my report."

Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't—

"—and I relapsed."

A group passes by the conference room. One of them asks where everyone else wants to go for lunch.

A cloud passes over the sun.

Patton's pen scratches against the notebook.

Logan squeezes his hand tightly.

"We met twelve more times. None of them resulted in my capture. Two months ago I was told the mission was over and to report back to campus. That's it. Until someone told me Deceit was in the meeting room and—we know what happened next."

"I don't," Patton says quietly, "would you mind telling me?"

Anger flares on the tip of his tongue. "Hasn't the gossip gotten to Psych yet? About the stupid fucked up agent who didn't know another agent was undercover? Who got tazed by Security and laughed at? You sure you don't know what happened?"

"You were tazed?"

"Yeah, I was tazed, because apparently bursting into a room when a gang member is in there warrants me being tazed when I don't know shit. And then they fucking laughed at me and I ran away because apparently that's all I know how to fucking do," he spits, "that and fail to kick people out of my room."

Logan's hand flexes in his and he squeezes in silent apology. Patton writes a few more things down and nods.

"Thank you, Roman. I appreciate the time you've taken to go through this for us. If you'd like to leave, I understand, and we can—"

"No."

Patton pauses. "No?"

"You made Janus be here for mine, I'll be here for his. That's fair."

A pained noise comes from somewhere and he only belatedly realizes it's Janus when Remus turns to whisper to him again. Janus shakes his head and waves him off. He looks at Roman. "Only if you're sure."

"We got into this mess 'cause I didn't know shit. I'm not going to make that mistake again." He scrunches down in his seat. "And it's only fair."

He can feel Remus looking at him.

"Janus," Patton says softly, "whenever you're ready."

A shaky breath across the table. "I was given a mission about six years ago to infiltrate the gang to gather intel to eliminate the caucus that runs it. I was given regular drop-offs with other members of the agency, a set of code phrases to use with them should my situation change, and an emergency comm."

You got all of that? What the fuck?

"Integration took about two years. By the third, I was given direct oversight of certain operations. I began to sabotage them carefully in line with the instructions given by my handler but not at the risk of exposing myself. I would regularly smuggle intel back to the Agency. At the end of the twenty-ninth month, I was informed that a safety would be deployed to help maintain my cover."

Roman's stomach sinks.

"I…incorrectly assumed that the safety had been given the same code phrases I was," he continues, his voice growing thicker, "or any code phrases at all. I did not ask my handler to confirm it."

It's your fault, part of Roman screams. He doesn't say anything.

It's the mindfuck of a lifetime, hearing Janus describe everything that happened from his perspective. How he tried to throw the others off Roman's trail, how hard he worked to make sure he wasn't compromised and Roman wasn't taken in his stead. How much it hurt now to know that Roman had no way of telling him that it was too much, that it hurt, that it hurt so much, please, please stop—

He squeezes Logan's hand.

"I told Roman this the other day, but I'll say it here as well—" Janus gives him a little nod— "I had no intention of barging in on his family celebration. Truly I was in the neighborhood for reasons unrelated to the mission and his mother spotted me from her front window. I offered to leave them once I realized the truth but Roman…invited me inside."

"It was a good dinner," Roman mumbles, "and you were…nice."

"I wanted to make up for the docks," Janus whispers hoarsely, "so I…I tried to let as much of the disguise slip as I could. But I let it slip too much and I was pulled in for questioning as soon as I left his mother's house."

He was what?

"Was your position compromised?"

"No. I managed to assure them that I was just there to gather intel on Roman, but the next time we found him, they asked me to…prove it."

Gredence Square.

"I'm so sorry, Roman," Janus whispers, his eyes squeezed shut as Remus shifts toward him protectively, "I thought—I thought that it would be safer for you if I didn't physically hurt you, but the things I said—"

"You said what you had to to keep us both safe."

"Yes."

He gets it. He does. He hates it, he feels it crawling under his skin, but he gets it. He hates himself for getting it so quickly and he hates the world for putting them in this position.

He doesn't listen to the rest of it, despite his best intentions. He's too busy trying to stop himself from drifting back into the cold, dark, wet apartment and so he can't focus on the words coming out of Janus's mouth until he hears:

"I told Roman that I understand if it takes time for him to be alright with me, and I stand by that. Regardless of culpability for everything else, I have hurt him. He has the right to assert his own boundaries."

Roman just nods. Patton writes down one last thing before he sets down the pen and steeples his fingers.

"Thank you both very much. I understand that this is not an easy thing and you both have done it. I can officially end the previous missions—which means you are both out of the debrief period and are once again free agents. With your permission, I'd like to take this and set about moving this investigation forward. No action will be brought without your knowledge and consent, but I would like to begin nonetheless."

Roman nods. So does Janus. Patton smiles.

"That brings us to the end of this meeting, unless you have anything else you'd like to discuss?" Roman half raises his hand awkwardly. "You don't need to raise your hand, kiddo, what is it?"

"The rules about agent-on-agent violence. Janus shouldn't be punished for what he did."

Janus's head whips around and Remus's eyes go wide. Even Logan squeezes his hand a little tighter. Patton tilts his head curiously. "Can you say more?"

"Janus was operating under the assumption of basic competence. If an agent is found to be willfully negligent in basic duties and capabilities, the perpetrator can't be found liable." He takes a deep breath and fights the burning in his stomach. "It's not—it's not fair to him if he's punished for something he didn't know, just like it isn't fair if I get punished under reckless endangerment."

He glances at Logan.

"See? I paid attention."

Logan doesn't say anything, just swallows heavily and squeezes his hand again.

"I'll make a note of it," Patton says, "anything else?"

"N-no, that's it."

"Janus?" Janus shakes his head, still staring at Roman. "Then you're all free to leave. Thank you for your time."

Roman stands up and Logan quickly joins him, holding his hand as they leave the room. He leans against the wall and scrubs his hands over his face. Tipping his head back, he draws lungful after lungful of the artificially cold air until he doesn't feel like he's on fire anymore.

"Fuck."

"Quite," Logan says, his voice a little thick, "oh, little one, come here."

"This level of hugging is really good," Roman mumbles, muffled against his shoulder, "you should keep it up all the time."

Logan's chuckle rumbles through him. He peers over his shoulder to see Janus and Remus emerging from the room too. Before he can think better of it, he taps Logan's arm to get him to let go and calls out.

"Remus?"

Remus pauses, turning as Roman walks up to him. "Yeah?"

Just say it. Just fucking say it. "I'm really glad Janus has you. Thank you."

Remus looks at him for a long moment. He's tall. Almost as tall as Janus, if not taller. And he's built like a brick shit house. Just as Roman starts to squirm under his gaze, he sighs. "Can I level with you, kid?"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't expect you. I thought you were gonna be some snot-nosed kid who didn't know how to deal with anything besides screaming and sulking."

"Ouch."

"But you're not." He steps forward and rests a hand on his shoulder. "You're a damn good person, you hear me? I don't care what sort of agent you are, you're a damn good person."

"Th-thanks?"

"And when all of this is over, and we've all had time to get our shit together, the four of us are gonna go out to dinner and I'm gonna tell you every embarrassing thing Janny did while we were trainees."

"Remus," Janus says from behind him but when Roman sneaks a look at him, he's smiling.

"Sound good, kid?"

"Yeah, that—that sounds really good."

Patton smiles as he hears Remus mutter something else to Roman before the four of them part ways. He looks down at his notes and adjusts his glasses, his temperament cooling rapidly as he rereads some of the sections. His mouth sets in a line and he stands, walking briskly toward the elevator banks.

He swipes his card at the last one on the left and presses a button. He watches in silence as the floors tick higher, and higher, and higher, until the doors open.

He strides down the vast hall to the burnished metal door. He presses the intercom button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sarah? It's Patton, I need a word."

"Buzzing you in now."

"Thank you."

He nods to Sarah as he steps into the first office, steeling himself before approaching the massive double doors. He pushes them open.

"Virgil, there's something that requires your attention."

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

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

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 5 months

Note

Saw you had writing prompts up and thought I’d send in something that brain conjured up in the early hours of dawn

“What if I want them to kill me? What if I want them to try? What if I want to see them realize that as much as I and others have tried. They…We can’t?’

d’know if this was what you meant by prompts but enjoy a depressed God?

More Than Human

----

At his very core, Janus was human.

One might say he was more than human, being a God, but being more than something doesn’t take away from that something, it just adds onto it.

----

| Ao3 | Next Part |

Warnings: implied/referenced suicide attempts, touch starvation, depression (with a somewhat positive ending)

Pairings: platonic roceit, though could be perceived as romantic if you so wished.

Word count: 1601

Notes: If I had a nickel for every time I wrote a fic with Mortal!Roman and a god!side I'd have two - (gets killed)

I really needed this lmao so tysm for the prompt! I've been really struggling with writing inspiration recently so this was really great!

It's been so long since I posted something new - it feels so good lmao. I left it fairly open ended so I could write more if anyone wanted it <3 just send an ask!! I'm always down for prompts :)

----

Janus was, first and foremost, a God

To be precise, he was the God of deception, trickery. In some communities he was the Guardian of all Evil, in others he was a representation of temptation, sin, all that was wrong with the world.

At his very core, Janus was human.

One might say he was more than human, being a God, but being more than something doesn’t take away from that something, it just adds onto it.

Janus was still human, deep down, he always would be, no matter how many layers were added - immortality, reality bending powers, worshippers, temples - he couldn’t bury the human parts. Though he tried, he wasn’t indifferent. No matter what he did the harsh words still stung when they tore at him, the hatred many felt towards him sat heavy in his chest, loneliness clawed at him like a starving animal - and he was their prey. As it had been for years.

He had been naive, a thousand years ago, to become a God. But they’d needed someone to shoulder the burden of the world's evils. They needed someone to shield them from the terrors, they needed someone who could face the lies and treachery and not be torn down by them. He had been foolish then, just a boy who was different, a boy who wanted to help.

There was no way out, either. Janus had tried his best, he’d begged the universe, he’d searched. He’d tried to cut himself off from the world but that had only made the lonely, empty feeling in his chest worse, he’d tried to end it all, when he had no options left, but that hadn’t worked either.

You couldn’t kill a God, after all. He wasn’t the only one who tried.

—-

“You’re not going to defend yourself?” Said the knight, dressed in shining silver armour, a red cloak fastened at the shoulder flowing behind him, a confident expression turning to confusion. The challenger stood before him in his temple, shining sword drawn and pointed at Janus’ chest where he sat on his uncomfortable, stone throne.

“No,” He answered simply.

“You’ll just… let me kill you?” He said, faltering, the only movement was his fiery red hair in the wind.

Janus leaned on his elbow and didn’t say anything. The knight lowered his sword just a little.

“Armies will try - if I fail,” The knight said, widening his arms in a gesture, “More people will come, try to kill you, why just allow it?”

“Maybe I want them to kill me,” Janus said softly, not quite looking at the knight, “What if I want you, them, everyone to try? What if I want to see them realise that as much as I and others have tried. They…We can’t?’”

The knight stared at the God before him, eyes widening as he realised, “You… whyever would you want to die?”

Once again, Janus said nothing. The knight sheathed his sword and Janus sighed softly. He supposed today wouldn’t be the day.

With the soft clanking of the knight’s heavy armour, he stepped forward, slowly approaching Janus’ throne as though he was prepared to be attacked. Even if he never went to draw his sword again, Janus could see the fear growing in his eyes with every step as he got closer. Janus didn’t move.

“Why do you want to die, Janus: God of Deceit, guardian of Evil,” the Knight asked, now standing over him. How interesting, Janus thought, that a mortal would have the courage to do such a thing. Many Gods would have felt that something of the sort was an act of disrespect, possibly even choosing to smite down the mortal who dared to do such a thing, Janus found he didn’t have the energy to care. Instead he just smiled softly - at least this made his life just a little more interesting, even if it did nothing to lessen the emptiness in his chest.

He sighed, he’s certain the knight would listen if he turned him away, but Janus had yearned for someone to talk to for hundreds of years. This knight would leave soon anyway and Janus would never see him again, what did it matter.

“Tell me your name,” Janus said, the Knight tilted his head and frowned, “Tell me your name, first, and I’ll answer your question.”

After a long, thoughtful pause, the knight sighed, “My name is Roman - Sir Roman Greenheart.”

“A lovely name,” Janus said softly, Roman smiled tentatively, “Now- your question… Why do I want to die? The answer is that living is painful.”

“Oh…” Roman said softly, “I would have thought a God would have an easy life.”

“Easy and painless are not the same,” Janus says softly, “People try to kill me on a monthly basis, Roman, and that’s barely scratching the surface.”

The pair were silent for a moment, before Roman gestured to the floor by Janus’ feet, “May I sit down?” He asked.

“You may,” Janus said. With permission, Roman folded to sit cross legged by Janus’ feet. He wondered silently why Roman’s attitude had changed so abruptly - minutes ago he’d been prepared to attempt to kill him. He wouldn’t ask though, instead simply ignoring him, resting his elbow on the uncomfortable arm of the throne and resting his chin atop his fist.

Minutes spent in silence later, Roman must have shifted, because Janus felt his shoulder brush against his leg, sending a jolt of warmth through him, strong enough to make his gasp. He hoped Roman wouldn’t notice, but as the knight turned to look at him, he knew he wasn’t so lucky.

“What was that?” Roman asked, frowning up at him - though the look seemed to be one of concern, Janus couldn’t be certain.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Janus said, making a point to look forward instead of down at Roman. Unfortunately that left him unprepared for Roman laying his hand atop Janus’ knee. His whole leg jolted as he flinched away in surprise at the way the touch burned.

“What are you doing to me,” Janus hissed, trying to sound menacing though he was fairly certain his fear and confusion were showing through his facade.

Roman simply frowned, “How… How long has it been since someone touched you?”

For a moment, Janus couldn’t think of an answer because when he thought about it, Janus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched by another person outside of combat. His silence seemed to be enough of an answer for Roman.

“I didn’t know Gods could be touch starved,” Roman said softly. Janus’ frown deepened.

“Will you stop being vague and let me in on whatever odd breakthrough you’re having?” He asked, voice tired but still a little snappish, Roman jumped.

“Oh- um…” he sighed, “I believe you might be touch starved.”

“...Meaning?” Janus asked, frowning down at the knight with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve gone too long without touch,” Roman said, sighing, “So you aren’t used to it - people need touch to be happy.”

“I am not a person.” Janus pointed out, frowning, he wasn’t even sure why Roman was even still here - now he was telling him he had this strange sickness of some kind? Who did he think he was?

“You don’t have to be a human to be a person,” Roman pointed out, voice irritatingly soft.

Janus narrowed his eyes, “Why are you still here?”

“Why haven’t you told me to leave?” Roman challenged, Janus blinked. People didn’t usually stand up to him - well, not after trying and failing to kill him, anyway. They usually ran in fear after that - that’s how it always went.

Roman held his gaze for a long, quiet moment, before Janus sighed.

“I don’t know,” he said. Eventually, Roman’s expression became one of pity, maybe concern.

“You…” Roman trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, “Do you have anyone to talk to? Other Gods?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Janus said, tone growing icy. Roman frowned, but seemed to understand as he stood up.

“Well - I must get back to my village duties,” He said with a small smile, confusing Janus greatly - though he tried not to show it. Why on earth was he smiling?

“Good,” Janus said sharply, “Leave me be with your prying questions and annoying presence.”

Chuckling, the knight turned away, though the glint in his eyes certainly worried Janus - if only a little, though he tried immediately to get the sight out of his mind, “I will return here in a week's time - for no reason - perhaps I’ll bring some cookies.”

Janus frowned as he watched him leave. Was this mortal trying to tempt him, a God, to return to his own temple, with the promise of cookies? He said nothing as Roman walked away and continued to sit there once the knight was out of sight over the crest of the hill. Janus thought he shouldn’t come back next week - as the mortal was clearly inviting him to - but he wanted to. He really wanted to and Janus wasn’t one to deny himself what he wants despite having not wanted much other than death for the last few hundred years.

Despite that, and despite his harshness towards Sir Roman, he still wanted to see the strange mortal again.

So for the first time he actually kept track of the passing days and a week later he returned to that temple. For the first time he appeared before a knight without hoping that it would be the last time he did so.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #janus sanders #ts janus #roceit #(platonic or romantic its your choice lol)#roman sanders #ts roman #fanfic #fanfiction #rowans writings

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yellowmagicalgirl · 6 months

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5 headcanons from a Trollhunters AU of your choice?

So there's this AU that I've had vague ideas about for a while, a roleswap where I swap all the canon ships (not counting Word of God ships and ships where we never see one of the characters). Do note that while the canon ships are getting swapped, the only canon ship that definitely gets together in this AU is Jlaire. (Staja and Darby are both maybe's, but I'm leaning no because IDK how much sense they'd make in this 'verse. Everything else is a NOTP for me.) (Also due to the amount of canon ships, you get more than 5 headcanons.)

Stricklake: Waltolomew is Jim's dad. Jim's bio mom walked out on them when Jim turned five - she accidentally saw Strickler in his true form, and she just wanted to escape. She was concerned that Jim wasn't human either, and she didn't want anything to do with him. (She was right that Jim wasn't fully human, though that didn't manifest as anything other than a very mild iron allergy until he got possessed by Morgana.) Meanwhile, Barbara is a local doctor who ends up getting roped in after she sees too much going on with the local teen defenders, and also after she ends up as Jim's foster mom when Strickler went missing.

Jlaire: The last battle between Kanjigar and Bular took place in a slightly different location, one that Claire was able to ride her bike to. She picked up the amulet and wasn't detected as quickly as Jim was in canon due to Strickler not going into the women's locker rooms. This allows her to have just enough time to learn to fight without Bular killing her for not knowing her way around knives like Jim does. Jim, meanwhile, has recently had the truth of his heritage revealed to him. If he serves the Janus Order well enough, then he can undergo the ritual that could make him a polymorph. (He never goes through the ritual but gains the ability anyways thanks to Morgana.) In the latter half of season 1, he became Team Trollhunters' man on the inside because he can't accept a world where Gunmar reigns (and also because Claire is very pretty in her armor.)

Dromura: Nomura became Kanjigar's apprentice, and while she didn't 100% expect to become the next trollhunter, she is miffed that this human girl with no fighting experience became the next trollhunter instead of her. She also briefly had a fling with Draal, who's human form works with Barbara under the alias of Dr. Aalbregt. Nomura once tried to get Kanjigar and Draal to meet in the hopes that Draal would change sides, but Kanjigar claimed that the impure was not his son. Ouch.

Staja: I'm not saying that Aja is the school bully, but she is rivals with Claire & Mary for popularity, with Claire & Mary being the femme popular crowd and Aja being the star quarterback. (Aja and Darci were neighbors growing up, so they're slightly more cordial.) She also teases Eli, but in a more friendly way since he's her little brother's BFF (and also Eli might have a crush on Krel). Eventually, the Tarron twins + Eli find out the truth. Steve on the other hand is the slightly spoiled heir to House Palchuk of Akiridion V. Seklos help us all.

Nanavex: Varvatos used to babysit Darci and the Tarron twins, sometimes at the same time, because he lives near all of them. He taught them to fight and can tell that something is going on. He doesn't know what. Nancy's son, husband, and daughter-in-law were all killed by the Zerons, and she was left to raise her grandson on her own. Between this and

Darby: I just can't see Darci getting the gravity cursed hammer, and I also can't really see her using a bow in this AU despite her using it in my seasonal amulet AU. I'm gonna say that instead she stole a fancy looking flute from the museum at the end of the second battle of Killahead. This flute was actually the flute that belonged to the Pied Piper, and it allows her to control small animals... and also goblins, because of the long-running raccoon joke. Mary never gets quite as involved in trollhunting as the others do due to being squeamish around violence, which causes her to grow distant from Claire and Darci. The coup happens earlier, Toby makes a cool bracelet for her, and Mary is selfish enough that she decides to befriend this foreign weirdo in order to get cool bracelets. (Due to the coup happening earlier, the two supernatural groups meet earlier. Toby gets to meet Vendel, who is more impressed with him than in canon. Vendel also likes Toby better than Steve.)

Stuart x Gwen: "The bounty hunter (Stuart) you (Morando) sent after us (Steve, Nancy, and Toby) became part of our found family." Meanwhile, I have two potential takes on Gwen. The first is that she's an untrustworthy rogue agent, willing to sell alien tech but also willing to sell secrets to whomever she thinks can get her the best deal. The other is that I replace Gwen of Gorbon with Guinevere, who was an alien all along in this 'verse, and Arthur thought that this foul creature killed his wife when he saw her in her true form. (In the latter case, there would be parallels between Guinevere/Arthur and Waltolomew/Jim's bio mom.)

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

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virologikal · 2 months

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anonymous requested: ♡ [ dolled up ] to get them dressed up for a date

Content warnings: nsfw, alcohol consumption, slightly explicit language, lingerie, slight powerplay 【 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 】

Strangely, the time passed between the two of them meeting in the late after-hours of their work days had passed by in unexpected speed, and there had been no apparent need to keep track of days, hours, or how often they met. For the first time, something in Wesker’s life felt natural, as if it was meant to be. Of course, simultaneously, it was anything but, all things considered. He certainly had not planned to allow any single one of his S.T.A.R.S. to occupy this much of his time, nor had he expected to find himself as infatuated as he was currently.

In fact, usually he preferred to keep such entanglements simple and unconditional, an exchange for one night and nothing more. And yet here he was, a bag of luxurious wear from one of the most expensive boutiques waiting atop his dresser, the thought of it being more patient at the task than himself utterly ridiculous - and yet true. Wesker resided in a two-story high-end apartment at the edge of Raccoon City, close to the trail leading up to the Arklay Mountains. A sought after neighborhood with its closeness to the vast nature, the hiking trails and spacious areas allowing for privacy. By all means it should have been too steep a rent to afford for a man of his official position, but if anyone ever had wondered about it, they never inquired about it.

All features his place offered were well-needed, from the fortuitous position close to the Arklay Trails to the hidden rooms. Janus-faced as he was, working not only for the R.C.P.D. but for Umbrella, and lining his future up with yet another possible employer, he had thought of everything.. A time consuming life to lead, too - so much so one would not expect someone like him to meander through the excessive yet cleanly decorated rooms, making sure everything was well-prepared and ready for his visitor upon his arrival. Chris had been here before, more than once, but the Captain of the local police special unit still made sure his home was nothing but representable, just like he always made sure he himself was when he left it. There was something about courting the younger man that appealed greatly to Wesker, and he found himself enjoying it in ways he had not with anyone else before. Every time the other came over, he would make a point of dining him, preparing the opulent meals himself, sometimes even letting Chris help, or just watch. It stroked his ego, just like buying him expensive gifts. Like the one awaiting him tonight.

And like always, he welcomed him at the door, taking his jacket from him, walking behind as the younger man walked the by now known route down the marble hallway to the kitchen, where they would idly chat over their dinner - about work, their colleagues, recent events. And slowly but surely, Wesker would start to let the tension build. Foregoing to wear his sunglasses in the other man’s presence, he would lock eyes with him a little longer. His lips would curl a little more than he’d be seen doing so at the department, allowing it to become a slight, one-sided smile painting crinkles around his eyes. His head would tilt when he listened to Chris, rapt attention only on him to observe even the most miniscule reactions to the small hints dropped here and there. And Chris became increasingly practiced at noticing them, and every time it would flush his face with excitement which, in turn, only served to urge Wesker on further.

After dinner, usually served with one or two glasses of wine, they would move to the living room, where Wesker would offer crystalline tumblers of expensive, rich tasting whiskey, the golden liquid glistening in the dim light surrounding them. By the time they emptied their glasses, the powder-red hue on Chris’ cheeks would be indistinguishable from heat, the alcohol coursing through his system, or actual signs of attraction. Wesker knew it was a luxurious assemblage of it all. “I didn’t take you for someone who would celebrate today, if I’m being honest,” the brunet murmured when he put his glass aside on one of the sideboards, his speech slurring only ever so slightly, but betraying his consumption of alcohol all the same. Not enough, however, to miss the confused blink of his blond Captain, who seemed to show a lot more facial expressions around him when they were alone than he usually would. It seemed so out of place for him, in fact, that Chris quirked a questioning brow. “Valentine’s Day?” He prompted, not noticing the mild pout his mouth started forming. Wesker made a sound that could have been mistaken for “Ah”, then tipped one shoulder in a one-sided shrug as he slowly stepped closer to Chris. “I don’t,” he said quietly, one hand coming up to let his fingertips brush over the back of Chris’ neck, feeling the shivers the air of a touch already managed to elicit. When he saw the disappointment in the younger man’s face, he chuckled softly - yet another one of those rare displays of genuine emotion not everyone got to witness. “Do I need a holiday to shower you in attention now?” He inquired in return, letting his hand rest at the side of Chris’ neck while bringing his thumb up to his chin, following the sharp line of his jaw with his digit. For a second, he had meant to call it affection, not attention - but the word felt so foreign on his own tongue, he swallowed it instead and replaced it.

This dance of theirs was a delicate one, each and every time pretending they didn’t know where their meetings would go, and yet perfectly well knowing how much they wanted to steer it in exactly this direction, the outcome which was seemingly inevitable. The playful sparkle in amber eyes was not lost on Wesker, causing the vague smile on his features to turn into something more promising as he gave a slight nod towards the direction of the nearby stairs. “Speaking of which, I have something for you,” he spoke, letting his hand fall to his side as he turned, moving ahead, fully knowing Chris would follow like a puppy - curious as always, and fascinated by the things he experienced whenever he stepped through the other one’s front door as if it lead into a new, a different dimension. Upon entering the master bedroom, Wesker flipped the switch and allowed the soft, dim light expertly hidden to allow for indirect illumination to spread a warm, welcoming glow. The large bed was the centerpiece, as always draped in black linnen, appearing innocent in comparison to the things that had been done atop. Wesker waited for Chris to enter, then gestured toward the expensive looking lacquer bag standing on the dresser, just where he had left it earlier. Tonight’s gift was special, something maybe a bit risky even, but he didn’t consider Chris to be easily startled - at least not from what he had experienced from him so far. On the contrary, his willingness to experiment had always inspired Wesker to push the limits just a little more every time they came back here.

“Take off your clothes,” the tall blond demanded, not harshly, but with precise calmness, knowing that Chris usually followed his lead trustfully without question. Their eyes locked for a couple of heartbeats, the brunet’s flushed cheeks deepening in color, before he swallowed and nodded, slowly starting to pull off his shirt and tossing it aside. Under any other circumstance, Wesker would have scolded this behavior (in fact, occasionally he made it a point to draw out their little game by making the other fold his clothes neatly), but today his mood was of a different kind. Ocean eyes followed the other’s movements, utter patience exuding from him when in reality, he could feel a restlessness pool in his stomach, urging him to make quick work of it all. Knowing the reward of patience, he forced the feeling down and instead crossed his arms over his broad chest, tilting his head slightly as he watched the brunet slip out of his jeans, then his underwear, until he stood before him with nothing left. Nothing but Wesker’s rapt attention resting entirely on him.

“I should like it if you’d turn and place your hands flat on the surface of the dresser,” the blond spoke in his quiet voice. But now, a deep, uncommon purring sound lived at the bottom of it. Pleased to see the other oblige, Wesker let his gaze slowly wander over the muscles of Chris’ back, the gentle curve of the small of it, down all the way to the calves. Only when he was satisfied did he step forward, slipping his hand into the bag and procuring one of the things inside. “Step in,” he only said after he had kneeled, waiting for Chris to follow the command, before letting the cool silk slowly slip upward, further and further, watching how the texture caused the other man to shiver pleasantly, inhaling a quick, sharp breath when Wesker rode it up all the way, tugging to make the fabric slip between his cheeks. Remaining a second, he then allowed himself to let his left hand slowly glide over the firm roundness of Chris’ behind before stepping away, pulling something else from the bag. A moment later, the brunet could feel the cool touch of leather around his throat, a gentle but firm pressure when his Captain fixated what could only be a collar at the back of his neck, humming contently at the sight and causing a pleasant shiver to run through the younger man’s body. Surprisingly warm hands placed themselves on his hips and gently pulled, signaling Chris to stop leaning on the dresser and follow Wesker’s directions as the other man slowly steered him over to the full-size-mirror on the other side of the room.

There he stood, lips parted in both surprise and arousal, a hint of abashed shame flooding his stomach as Wesker leaned in from behind, leaning the side of his face against the soft, brown hair of the younger man while pale hands wandered, sliding from where they had rested at Chris’ hips slowly to the front. “You look mesmerizing,” the blond whispered in his ear, that hoarse undertone he always strived to find in his voice clearly present now. Chris was dressed in a black satin slip, its lacey strings riding up high on his hips, while the fabric seemed to constantly caress his sensitive spot, now clearly visible and undeniably excited in light of the current events. Beside it, Wesker let his thumbs ride dangerously close over the skin along the side of his length, causing it to twitch. Utterly aware of ocean blue eyes piercing him, observing his every reaction, he allowed himself to let a sigh flow from his lips before swallowing hard once again, his throat straining slightly against the leather surrounding it. “...usually people go on a date today, you know…” Chris managed to hoarsely murmur in an attempt at cockiness, but only earning himself a swift, much too short brush of one thumb along his length, immediately causing him to moan without being able to suppress it. “I daresay I don’t care. I’d much rather put the leash I prepared on you and have you on all fours on my bed.”

#⸻ ⨯ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄.#⸻ ⨯ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏: 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫 / 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 #✽ 𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 #chrisker #albert wesker #chris redfield #resident evil #pre mansion #valentine's day #// content warnings at the top #// I stopped before the real spice lemme know if you want me to expand on this!

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analogicalreasoning · 3 months

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Lights Out (and everything else, apparently.)

I just wrote a Loceit fic! It took me a few days, but I eventually got there in the end!

Summary:

The power suddenly shuts down in Thomas' town on a cold winter night. Upon checking the outage maps, it seems the weather has caused mass electrical destruction across Florida. Because Thomas is suffering in the cold, so are the sides, and Janus is taking it the worst because of his inability to produce his own heat. In this moment of desperation, there's only one side he can stand to turn to...

Janus and Logan snuggle.

SFW! Pure fluff, but there is some NSFW humour.

Based on recent events, except I had no one to snuggle with </3

Please enjoy!! It was a labour of love.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders sides #logan sanders #ts logan #janus sanders #ts janus #domestic fluff #fluff #fluff oneshot #oneshot #archive of our own #sanders sides fanfiction #loceit #i literally forgot to tag loceit #how am i this dumb #ts logan x ts janus

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 months

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: My nephew helped me queue this one (he is a literal baby) -Danny Words: 2,379 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Goldrush' -by Stela Cole

X: Are You Serious? Right in Front of My Salad?

I wake up with a start. My mouth is dry as if I've been running for hours. I just had the weirdest dream about Janus in a forest and now my mind is racing, so I get up. I leave Annabeth in Geryon's old bedroom and make my way downstairs.

Nico is seated on a tall chair in the kitchen aisle, he doesn't look up as I walk past him, but as I'm filling a glass with water, he speaks to me. "How's Lily?" He asks hoarsely. "And Michael?"

I want to ignore him, but his voice is so broken my heart can't bear it. We spoke to his sister's ghost today, and Bianca told him to stop trying to bring her back.

"You know, now that you're all grumpy, you and Lily would get along even better."

"I don't want friends," he cuts me off, voice quivering. "Just wanted my sister."

"Nico," I leave my glass on the counter and cross my arms. "I grew up in an orphanage—"

"What's that got to do with—"

"Shut up and listen," I scowl. "I didn't know how it felt to have a real family until recently, and sometimes Percy annoys me on purpose, but no one cares for me the way he and my mom do. If Bianca, your only sister, was asking you to trust us, you should've listened."

"Like how you listened to Percy when he asked you to stay put?"

I tense. "That's different. Geryon would've killed him if I hadn't—"

He interrupts me bitterly. "Percy's not your real brother, and you'll never know what a real family is. You get in everyone's way trying to be a hero."

I try not to pout, but I'm not succeeding. "That's mean."

If Nico is ashamed, I don't sense it. "It's the truth."

"You don't talk to your friends like that," I say, voice quivering. "Bianca—"

Nico gets up and exits the room hastily, speaking through gritted teeth. "We are not friends."

"...Gaea told me that she needed the blood of only two demigods—one female, one male. She—she asked me to choose which boy would die." Piper explains during the meeting.

"But neither of us died," Jason replies. "You saved us."

"I know. It's just... Why would she want that?"

"Guys, remember at the Wolf House? Our favorite ice princess, Khione?" Leo mentions. "She talked about spilling Jason's blood, how it would taint the place for generations. Maybe demigod blood has some kind of power."

"Oh..." Percy leans back in his chair looking nauseous. "Oh, bad... Bad. Bad." He turns to Hazel and Frank. "You guys remember Polybotes?"

"The giant who invaded Camp Jupiter," Hazel replies. "The anti-Poseidon you whacked in the head with a Terminus statue. Yes, I think I remember."

"I had a dream, when we were flying to Alaska. Polybotes was talking to the gorgons, and he said—he said he wanted me taken prisoner, not killed. He said: 'I want that one chained at my feet, so I can kill him when the time is ripe. His blood shall water the stones of Mount Olympus and wake Earth Mother!'"

"Jolly way of dying..." Ara mutters.

Piper makes a face. "You think the giants would use our blood... the blood of two of us—"

"I don't know," Percy replies. "But until we figure it out, I suggest we all try to avoid getting captured."

"That I agree with," Jason sighs.

"But how do we figure it out? The Mark of Athena, the twins, Ella's prophecy... how does it all fit together?" Hazel questions.

Annabeth leans on the table. "Piper, you told Leo to set our course for Atlanta."

"Right. Bacchus told us we should seek out... what was his name?"

"Phorcys," Percy responds.

"You know him?" Annabeth looks at him with surprise.

"I didn't recognize the name at first. Then Bacchus mentioned salt water, and it rang a bell. Phorcys is an old sea god from before my dad's time. Never met him, but supposedly he's a son of Gaea. I still don't understand what a sea god would be doing in Atlanta."

"What's a wine god doing in Kansas? Gods are weird," Leo points out with a shrug. "Anyway, we should reach Atlanta by noon tomorrow, unless something else goes wrong."

"Don't even say that," Annabeth shivers. "It's getting late. We should all get some sleep."

"Wait," Piper intervenes. "There's one last thing. The eidolons—the possessing spirits. They're still here, in this room."

There is nothing but silence for a few seconds before Hazel sighs. "Piper is right."

"How can you be sure?" Annabeth questions.

"I've met eidolons. In the Underworld, when I was... you know."

"So..." Frank looks around anxiously. "You think these things are lurking on the ship, or—"

"Possibly lurking inside some of us," Piper replies. "We don't know."

"Okay," Ara fixes her posture tensely. "Do you have a plan to get rid of them?"

"Yes," Piper looks at her. "I think we can fix this."

Ironic, how the skills that have proven to be handy so far are the ones she had as an Aphrodite and not the ones she worked hard for. "Okay," Ara nods with confidence. "What do we do?"

"We talk, and everyone else has to listen," her sister explains. "Your voice is stronger than mine, so it'd be better if you call out to them first, and force them to stay put."

"You're a better negotiator, though," Ara reminds her, "so you'll do the talking after I've got them in place."

"Deal."

"Girls, what are you—"

Ara hushes Jason and lifts a finger. "Be quiet, I have to focus." She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The girl's skin glows pink, and the dark brown has been replaced with iridescent tints when she opens her eyes. "Eidolons, where are you?"

A ripple of warm air crosses the table. Leo, Jason, and Percy sit up stiffly, their gazes are the same golden color. "Here," they speak all at once.

Frank jumps out of his seat and presses his back against a wall. Hazel covers her mouth in horror.

"You are not allowed to leave your seats," Ara tells them.

"We won't move," they reply.

Annabeth looks at the two daughters of Aphrodite with worry. "Oh, gods—Can you cure them?"

Piper raises her hand to ease her, and when she does, her palm trembles a little. Ara holds it as soon as she notices.

"Are there more of you on this ship?" Piper asks.

"No," Leo responds. "The Earth Mother sent three. The strongest, the best. We will live again."

"Not here, you won't," Piper's eyes blaze with anger. "All three of you, listen carefully. You will leave those bodies—"

"No."

"We must live."

"Then find another way," Ara glares at the Eidolon possessing Leo.

Leo's face twists into a smirk. "You are a spoiled child of Olympus. We do not answer to you."

"Mars Almighty, that's creepy!" Frank draws out his bow. "Get out of here, spirits! Leave our friends alone!"

Leo looks at him. "You cannot command us either, child of war. Your own life is fragile. Your soul could burn at any moment."

Frank manages to aim an arrow at Leo. "I—I've faced down worse things than you. If you want a fight—"

"Frank, don't," Hazel gets up, then turns to the others. "Listen to Piper."

"Daughter of Pluto, you may control gems and metals. You do not control the dead," Percy snarls.

"Listen, eidolons," Hazel spits out, "you do not belong here. I may not command you, but Piper and Ara do. Obey them."

Piper looks at Ara, the girl squeezes her palm and absorbs the fear her sister is feeling so she can speak. Piper takes a deep breath and tries again. "You will leave those bodies."

Jason grimaced. "We—we will leave these bodies."

"You will vow on the River Styx never to return to this ship, and never to possess any member of this crew."

Leo and Percy groan in protest, but their eyes are slowly changing colors.

"You will promise on the River Styx," Piper repeats, squeezing Ara's hand.

Ara shakes off the shivers she's getting from sponging Piper's anxiety, but she doesn't let go of her. "Promise!" The girl stomps her foot impatiently, and another ripple of hot air pushes out of her place on the table.

"We promise on the River Styx," the boys spit out in different levels of distress.

"You are dead," Piper continues in a steady voice.

"We are dead."

"Now, leave."

The boys fall: Percy against the table, Jason over his chair, and Leo onto the floor. "Ow!"

"Leo!" Ara lets go of Piper and circles the table, she finds Leo sprawled next to his toppled chair.

"Are you all right?" Hazel asks the boys.

"Did it work?" Leo speaks groggily.

"It worked," Piper announces. "I don't think they'll be back."

"Does that mean I can stop getting head injuries now?" Jason groans.

Piper laughs. "Come on, Lightning Boy. Let's get you some fresh air. And Ara..." she tilts her body to see her over the table's surface. "Thank you."

Ara helps Leo to get back on his feet, she dusts off her jeans and looks at Piper. "You saved my brother and my boyfriend, I should be thanking you."

"What was that thing you did?" Hazel questions in shock. "You glowed pink!"

"Aphrodite's blessing," Ara replies. "I can use those from time to time, but not often and not one after the other, it tires me out too quickly."

"You have more than one blessing?" Frank asks in shock.

"She's got four," Leo replies hoarsely, rubbing the side of his face. "Gods, doll, you could've asked my ghost to land on his butt..."

Ara grins. "We should call it a day. Y'all go to sleep, I'll take the night shift."

Everyone starts to leave, but Percy stays behind to talk to Ara and Leo. "So..." He makes a face. "That sucked. I'm sorry for... you know..."

"It's alright, man," Leo shrugs. "I would've reacted the same way if some weirdo claimed to be my sister's sweetheart and then proceeded to bomb my house."

"A real fancy way to put it, Leo," Ara scowls.

"My point is—now we can start over, right?" Leo reaches out to take Percy's hand.

Percy shakes his hand with no hesitation. "Definitely." He glances at Ara. "I know Ara can take care of herself, but... just try to be careful."

Ara feels weird about the way he says it. Her mind goes to Hazel and Frank, and how they called Leo 'Sammy' the first time they spoke to him. She thinks Percy knows something about that.

Leo is checking the ship's status before ending the day. It could be done by just one of them, but he insisted and Ara refused to let go of him now that he's eidolon-free.

"Not that I'm complaining," he walks from one place to another with Ara hugging him from behind like a little kid. "But it wasn't that serious, doll. Getting possessed is kinda like the flu."

"It's not funny," Ara mumbles, squeezing his waist. "Last night he could've taken over while you were kissing me—"

"Yikes," Leo cringes. "Let's not go there."

"But it could've happened!"

"Nah," he taps the morse code for 'I love you' on the back of her hand. Leo does it without noticing, or at least that's what Ara thinks, she's never asked because she fears it'll make Leo self-conscious and then he'll stop doing it. "My Eidolon was scared of you—all bark and no bite. The reason why they felt brave enough to attack you in New Rome, was because you were caught off guard."

"Love your blind faith, but—"

Leo turns and wraps his arms around her. "No buts! You're strong, smart, and hot when you use your blessings."

Ara gets flustered and tries to step back. "Okay, I got it—"

The boy kisses her without warning. He hadn't kissed her like this in... well, probably never. When he ends it, Ara is speechless and light-headed, her soul-light glows as bright as gold. Sometimes he does things that make her doubt he's not a fidget of her imagination, the way he can make her forget everything that bothers her and all she can do is stay focused on him in just a matter of seconds.

"Talking about last night... you mentioned Hazel," he says quietly, paying close attention to how she reacts. "We're gonna talk about that, or..?"

Ara leans her forehead on his. "Do we have to?"

Leo frowns. "Yeah, think so. That girl and her boyfriend freak me out! I don't know what I did to them..."

"Percy knows, but I don't think he wants to tell me," she sighs. "You should ask them face to face."

Leo snorts. "And say what? 'Hey, are you two planning my murder?'—bet that would lighten the mood around here."

Ara rolls her eyes. "Obviously not like that! I'm sure there's a way to address this without making it awkward..." She holds his arms. "Do you think Hazel..."

Leo stares at her, and he doesn't know how, 'cause this has never come naturally to him, but he guesses what Ara's trying to ask him. "You think she likes me?" He squints. "I mean, I am more good-looking than Frank, but—"

"Leónidas!" She hisses under her breath. "I'm serious!"

"Me too!" Leo exclaims. "Okay fine, grown-up talk," his grip on her gets a little tighter. "I don't know. It's like she's scared of me or something... I'll try to talk to her if you want me to."

Ara's uncomfortable for a wide variety of reasons. Mostly jealousy, but she's having negative thoughts about a girl that she's supposed to look after, and to top it all she's Nico's half-sister. She tries hard not to antagonize Nico too much, but she's always finding ways to do so.

"I hate feeling this way." She makes a face. "When we got the celestial bronze, you guys had like... a moment. I'm still thinking about it."

"A moment?"

Ara blushes, knowing how ridiculous she's about to sound. Her eyes avoid his when she talks, they're no longer golden, but they still have power over her. "You locked eyes for a second. It looked intense."

Leo presses his lips together, stopping himself from laughing. "Hm."

"This is stupid, I don't know why I'm even—"

The girl turns to leave, but Leo pulls her close again, grinning from ear to ear. His soul-light brightens. "Arae Jackson, are you jealous?"

"No!" She exclaims indignantly. "Being jealous would mean I don't trust you and I do! I don't care if you talk to girls, I'm just—worried."

"Worried," Leo repeats tauntingly. "Sure. Whatever you say, sunshine."

Ara slips out of his grasp and hurries away. "I'm telling Frank you said he's ugly."

"Hey! I didn't—Ara—STOP!"

Next chapter →

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