#roman but it's from that college au that only exists in my head and is so self indulgent that i vow to never let it see the light of day <3

[ktwritesstuff]

The Professor (Pedro Pascal smut inspired by SNL)

Title: The Professor Fandom: RPF: Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Pedro Pascal (professor of Latin American Studies) x Reader (bedraggled PhD candidate) Word Count: ~2000 Summary: As if that SNL skit wasn't going to launch a thousand smut fics... As always, lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes below the cut.

Notes: This is my first "real person fic," may God have mercy on my soul. Additionally, my Spanish is virtually non-existent; I've relied heavily on Google Translate and asking my coworkers questions on the sly, my apologies for any errors! As we all know, this is not a story about actual human Pedro Pascal, but the fictionalized version which lives rent free in our heads. And as proper fan girl culture dictates, we keep this shit locked down. But just in case:

This note is for actual human Pedro Pascal and Pedro Pascal only. I don't know why you would click "Read More" on a post clearly labeled "Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU" but if you have, I beg of you LOOK AWAY, SIR. LOOK AWAY. If you choose to proceed, I will not be responsible for any trauma you may suffer as a result. Thank you.

For everyone else, I give you:

The Professor

Professor Pedro Pascal was the head of the Latin American Studies department at your small college.  You had never been in his classes as an undergrad–Latin American Fiction and Poetry, and a special seminar on the Magical Realism of Isabel Allende–but it was well known around campus that his family had fled Pinochet when he was a child, which granted him unsurprising street cred among your communist-leaning circle of friends.  He had been appointed the interim director of the campus’s Literary Center–after his predecessor was ousted for exposing himself in a virtual meeting. 

As the Center’s Graduate Assistant Director, it meant although he wasn’t technically your boss, you were suddenly spending an annoying amount of time working around the throngs of freshman girls who flocked to his office hours.  You couldn’t really blame them.  He was, if not an outright heartthrob, a reasonably good-looking college professor.  A strong face, with a short, rugged beard, a striking Roman nose, and deep brown eyes with the most charming crow's feet.  He had a lean physique, with a hint of softness at the belly, just this side of a “dad bod.”

His modest good looks combined with a cheerful disposition and a penchant for quoting the love poetry of Pablo Neruda were like catnip for liberal arts majors.  And although you were a card-carrying bra-burning feminist, you weren’t entirely immune.

“Professor,” his office door was open, but you knocked on the frame.  

Pedro looked up from the stack of resumes you had been sent to review before the selection panel for a new director.

“Coffee?”

“Mi angelita,” he sighed, rising from his desk to graciously accept the warm cup from your hands.  “What time is the first candidate arriving?”

“Noon,” you said.  “You, me, Dr. Monroe, the Provost, and Assistant Dean are sitting on the interview panel.”

Pedro looked at his watch.  

“Shit,” he sighed.  “I have Intro to Creative Writing at 9:30.”

“I’ll set up the conference room,” you said as he shoved his papers into his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder, still carrying the open mug as he raced down the stairs.  

“Thank you, Angel.  Thank you!”

It was a six month process to find a new director.  Six months of staring across the conference table, chewing on the end of your pen, pretending not to be affected by the way he leaned in when you spoke and stroked his thumb across his lower lip in concentration.  Or the obscene way he spread his legs in a comfortable chair while speaking with candidates in front of a panel of students.  

And having to do it all over again when your first choice–a student favorite–declined the position, to stay in New Jersey of all things.  You knew Pedro was relieved to have reached a conclusion; he didn’t care for the administrative duties or politics.  He wanted to teach, to be with his students.  You admired that about him, he appreciated your organizational skills (and the fact that when you made coffee it counted as a meal.)  You worked well together, but now that was coming to an end. 

It was past 9pm and you had already closed up the Literary Center for the night, but Pedro was still in his office, reviewing students’ papers.

“I’m done for the night, Professor,” you said.  “Is there anything I can do to help you get out of here?”

“That depends,” he said, with a wry smile that had you convinced he was only half-kidding.  “How’s your Spanish?”

“Hmm,” you said, stepping into the light of the desk lamp.  “¿Dónde está la biblioteca? ¿Como estas?  Bien, gracias.  ¡Qué lluvia!  And that’s all I’ve got.”

Pedro chuckled.  “I’ve heard worse.”

“That and un tequila, por favor.”

“Tequila,” Pedro repeated, intrigued. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of Patron.  “That I can help you with.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Professor,” you deadpanned.  “I don’t know if you knew this, but alcohol is not permitted in academic buildings.”

"Lucky for me," he said, picking up the bottle. "I have tenure."

You laughed and Pedro laughed; you offered to run downstairs to retrieve a pair of glasses and a salt shaker from the kitchen while he finished grading papers in record speed.

“I worry about these kids,” Pedro said, three shots deep.  “I do!  The moment they hear something the least bit troubling, they refuse to engage with the material.  Our world exists in shades of gray.  They want things to be ideologically pure, when what they need is to learn to discern.  To question.  To decide!”

“I understand what you’re saying, Professor,” you said. 

“Pedro, please,” he interrupted you.  “Pedro.”  

“Pedro,” you repeated.  “I agree, but there’s no reason we need to elevate and spotlight the same tired canon of bigots, abusers, and dead white men year after year when there is so much more out there.”

Pedro downed another shot and pointed an accusing finger at you.  

“Look who’s talking,” he said.  “Your PhD is in Shakespeare Studies!”

“I know,” you laughed, pouring yourself another glass.   “I know, I’m a terrible person.”

“You are not,” he said, suddenly serious.  “You have an incredible mind and the most beautiful way of looking at the world.”

You felt languid and relaxed and warm.  You liked the way Pedro looked at you.  There was something undeniably romantic about getting drunk in the richly furnished office, with its leather armchairs and oak bookshelves, debating the merits of Nietzsche and bell hooks.   

“Okay,” you broke the silence.  “Okay, here’s a fun fact you can pass along to your successor.  There are 3 prints signed by Allen Ginsberg in this building, and you can see them all from this desk.”  

“There’s the one on the wall,” Pedro said, pointing to the framed portrait hanging above the bookshelf.  

“Yes,” you said, rising from your chair and moving to the other side of the desk.  “And there in the hallway, on the right, that's an excerpt from "Howl" they set in the printshop downstairs.”

You perched on the arm of his chair to get closer to his eye-level, pointing through the open door.  You slipped, nearly falling into his lap and he placed a hand on your back to steady you.  He smelled amazing, like old leather and warm spices.  

“And there, in the stairwell, you can just make out the top of his head on that linotype,” you explained.  “Do you see it?”

“I do.”

When you turned your head, Pedro was looking at you.  Perhaps it was the tequila, but you were almost certain he was staring at your lips, his eyes heavily lidded, smiling lazily.

“You look tired,” you warned.  You should have gotten up to leave, but you didn’t want to.  You didn’t want this warm, lovely feeling to ever end.  

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?” 

“Kissing you,” he said.  

You were almost surprised; you had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that your semester-long flirtation was a one-sided puppy crush.  You had been so busy with your research and recruiting and planning, you had forgotten somewhere along the way that you were a stone cold fox with tits and ass for days and enough sex appeal to blow the top off Mount St. Helens.

“You can,” you said, turning your body toward him.  “I don’t mind.” 

“I shouldn’t.”

“Fine then,” you turned to stand.

Pedro seized you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and into a long, slow kiss.  His lips were surprisingly soft and his mouth tasted like salt and lime as his tongue brushed into yours with careful, confident strokes.  

“That was nice,” your eyes fluttered open as Pedro finally pulled away.  “You’re a good kisser.”

“You, too,” Pedro said.  “Again?”

You tilted your chin, touching the point on your neck, just below your ear.  As Pedro leaned in, working the beginnings of a hickey into your neck, you guided his hands from your waist to your breasts.  You pressed against him, moving to straddle his thigh.

“More?” Pedro asked.

“Yes,” you panted. You braced yourself on the back of the chair, one hand on either side of his head, grinding against his leg, feeling hot and wet as he kneaded your breasts with reverent appreciation.

“Mi amor,” he breathed.

“Pedro,” you held his face, nipping at his bottom lip.  

“Dime, lo qué quieres.”

“Fuck.”  His accent went straight to your cunt.  You ran one hand up his thigh, groping at the crotch of his chinos. 

Pedro let out an obscene moan and hoisted you up onto his desk.  He slid his hands up your thighs, fingers slipping into your panties.  He ran his fingertips through your folds, tracing circles around the swollen nub of your clit with an absolute shit-eating grin.

“Qué lluvia.”

You howled with laughter.  “I know that one!  I know that one!” 

“A huevo.”   

Pedro rose from his chair, bunching your dress up around your waist.  You pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his pants, running your hands up the warm skin of his back.  

“Want you,” you sighed.  “Want you inside me.”         

“Whatever you want, Angelita.”  

Pedro pulled your underwear down to your ankles, pausing to retrieve a condom from the wallet in his back pocket, like an over-eager undergrad, pulling down his pants to roll it on.  He pressed the head of his cock against your clit.  You grabbed him by the ass, wrapping your legs around him to guide him into you.  

Pedro flicked his hips into you with short, quick strokes, sending jolts of energy through your core.

“More,” you pleaded breathlessly.  “Deeper.”

Pedro lifted your ankles onto his shoulders, pressing into you long and slow until you could feel him bumping against your cervix.  You gasped, reaching behind you, scrambling for leverage, knocking the computer monitor off the desk.

“Oh no!” You turned, trying to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

“It’s okay!” Pedro said, taking your face in his hands to guide your gaze back to his eyes.  “It’s a shitty computer.  It’s fine.”

You moaned, letting your head fall back, grabbing for his chest with one hand as he fucked you.

“So soft,” he moaned against your ear.  “So fucking good for me, Angel.”  

“Give me your hand,” you said, guiding his fingers back to your clit.  “Up and down, right there.  Oh God.”  

You grabbed Pedro’s shoulder to brace yourself.  

“I’m close,” he warned.

“Not yet,” you pleaded.  “Just a little more.”  

You could feel your own climax building inside you.  You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.  

“Oh God!”

Pedro came inside you with a gasp as your inner walls clenched around him.  He slowly withdrew, supporting your legs, and easing you onto your back, scattering papers and pens onto the floor.  He kissed your neck and your breasts as his hands explored the curves of your body. 

You woke the next morning on the couch in Pedro’s office.  You were lying on top of him; your head on his chest.  He had his arms around you, your head was pounding as you squinted into the daylight.

“We got fucked up last night?” you said.

“Yup.”  

“It was nice."

"It was," Pedro agreed, kissing the top of your head as you blinked sleep from your eyes. 

"What time is it?”

You grabbed his forearm, turning it so you could look at the face of his watch.  

“Oh shit,” you gasped.  “I have Freshman Seminar in half an hour.”

“I already missed my morning classes,” Pedro moaned, letting his head fall back against the armrest. 

“Do you want to explain to Dr. Monroe why I can’t teach her class?” you said, rising from the couch and searching the office floor for your underpants.

“No,” Pedro said.  “She scares me.”  

You pulled your underwear back on, finding your bag, you used the satin scarf tied around the handle to cover the love-bites blooming on your throat and chest.  You dabbed concealer under your eyes and added a fresh coat of red lipstick.  

“Would you like to have lunch together? Not at the Caf. Somewhere nice, like a date.” Pedro asked, sitting up.  He looked endearingly child-like with his bedhead and giant brown eyes.  

You paused, checking your reflection in your compact mirror.  

“Can we do that?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not,” he said.  “You were never my student and after this week we won’t even work together any more.”

“Oh,” you nodded.  “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I’ll pack things up here and meet you after class.”  

You smiled.  “I’ll see you then.”   

#rpf: pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hot for teacher AU #mr. ben has us in a chokehold #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal x you

[littleoddwriter]

Hello my amazing and wonderful friend

I have missed your writing so dearly so I'm gonna take advantage of your asks being open right now and request a short college AU fic for Zsaszmask. It can be established relationship with just a look into their life or a first meeting. Write whatever is easiest for you, I will just be happy to read the words you wrote.

Kajahqhqh I'm so bad at sending requests so I hope this makes sense.

Wanna Hate You | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hello there, my dearest friend! <3 Aw, thank you so much!!! And no worries, you made complete sense, heh. I hope you like what I did with it, thanks for the request, dhjfkhsjk! <3 summary; Victor wants to hate Roman, but finds himself fascinated by the young man. notes; College AU; First Meeting; Mentions of Violence.

Boisterous fake laughter echoed through the hall and into Victor’s dorm room. 

He wanted to hate the guy the loudest laugh belonged to. He tried very hard to hate him. After all, that guy was beyond obnoxious. Victor had every reason to resent him, really.

But something about him just caught his attention. He knew exactly what it was, but that didn’t make it any less confusing to him. 

Roman Sionis. The heir of the Sionis’ legacy and Janus Corp. A spoiled brat that had people gravitate toward him for the simple fact of who his parents were and that he had money. Lots of it. It was all incredibly fake, but Roman entertained them all. He thrived on the attention he got, fake or not. He loved to boss them around, to feel like a God, as they practically kissed the ground he walked on. 

Yet there was something lurking beneath the surface. Roman was like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at every minor inconvenience or grievance that came his way. Victor was fascinated by that. 

No matter how hard Sionis tried to play the perfect boy with Daddy’s money, making connections at Gotham Academy, he always failed to maintain it completely. 

There was an incident at least once a week, where Roman just lost it and punched somebody in the face, humiliated somebody, harassed those around him, yelled them into submission and fear, or even pulled a knife on them. The list went on. 

At least once a week, Roman snapped. And every time, his parents cleaned up his mess with bribery to keep Roman in college and to keep all those incidents off the records. Every victim was paid off, sometimes never to be seen again. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Victor looked forward to those incidents every day. They were what made college more interesting, what made Roman so fascinating and captivating. They were the only reason Victor couldn’t get himself to hate the guy. 

In fact, Victor often found himself thinking about how he could bring Roman’s next outburst along faster without making himself take the brunt of it. He liked to watch. To see that fire in Roman’s eyes as the mask started to crack and slip and his true self reared its ugly head. 

Part of him felt like it was unfair, though, that he knew so much about Roman and was fascinated by him, only for the other to not even know he existed. 

Victor was pretty good at fading into the background. Usually, that was exactly what he wanted. He didn’t like attention; especially all that fake crap these college kids at Gotham Academy were so very good at. But he started to crave attention from Roman. He wanted and needed it. And it really bothered him that Roman had no idea. 

Victor has been racking his brain, trying to find a good way to introduce himself to Roman, get his attention and keep it. 

As it turned out, Victor fantasised about all the different ways he could go about it for nothing.

___

After a full day of classes, which he all hated and he failed to remember why he went to college in the first place, Victor returned to his dorm room. He didn’t have a roommate, luckily. So, of course he was very surprised to find somebody in his room on that evening.

How Roman got inside was beyond Victor. Maybe he underestimated him. Maybe Roman was really good at picking locks.

He stared at Roman, trying to decide on what to say and how. He couldn’t mess up his chance of finally having Roman’s attention on him.

“Are you mute or something?” Roman asked rudely, crossing his legs one over the other and leaning back in Victor’s desk chair. 

Victor frowned, shaking his head. He hated to admit it, but Roman made him speechless. And he also made him feel exposed, now that his piercing blue eyes looked Victor up and down.

“What’re you doing in my room?” Victor asked back instead. 

“Waiting for you, obviously,” Roman answered, looking around the small room with a disgusted expression, “I’d never set a foot in this sort of mess otherwise.”

“Why?” 

Roman’s eyes snapped back up to Victor’s face. He stared at him for a long moment.

“I’ve noticed you and your little habit,” Roman sneered, “You’re always there when I’m having one of my… moments. Always watching. But instead of appearing to be scared or put off, you just smile. Like I’m entertaining you with my outbursts.”

Victor couldn’t believe what he just heard. Roman actually noticed him? The spoiled brat was more observant than Victor had expected. 

Giving Roman a lopsided smile, Victor responded, “You're very entertaining when you snap. It makes you interesting to me. They all had it coming anyway.”

Roman’s eyes seem to light up at that and he shoots Victor a toothy grin in response, “So you agree. You agree that those fake maggots deserve to be squashed.”

“I do,” Victor nods. “But I don’t get why you hold yourself back so much if you want to put them in their place.” 

“Because of my stupid fucking parents,” Roman groaned, “I’m already on thin fucking ice with my father as it is. He keeps threatening to cut me off and I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not? You’d be free if he did.” Victor’s words were blunt and he could see that Roman was intrigued, but also hated it, since he probably wasn’t used to anyone challenging what he said. At least not like that.

“I know that. But… I don’t think I could handle the humiliation,” Roman said in a whiny voice that - surprisingly - Victor didn’t find annoying.

“You could. With me by your side.”

There was a spark in Roman’s eyes, “Oh? Forward much, aren’t we?”

Victor shrugged. He didn’t care. Not anymore. This was his chance and he’d take it, no matter what.

Tapping his fingers against his thigh, Roman continued, “Well, what do you suggest? I can’t just let myself be cut off without a plan…”

___

Victor wanted to hate Roman the second he heard his annoying, loud fake laughter ring through the dorm halls at Gotham Academy. He wanted to resent him, but instead felt pulled toward him. Roman Sionis was a magnetic field and no one stood a chance when getting too close, least of all Victor. 

Now, twenty years later, Victor couldn’t possibly care less. Roman was his and his alone. 

They both thrived, running their businesses and revelling in their true selves. No more hiding. No more lurking. No more Mommy and Daddy that could ruin all the fun. That was the first thing they had taken care of all those years ago. Roman was much better suited as the head and face of Janus Corp, after all, with Victor by his side.

#as per usual this started to run away from me (esp when i write for them... i do not have control then) #roman sionis #victor zsasz #zsaszmask #fanfiction

[princeanxious]

Soulmate au fic that I really wanna write where Janus is soulmates with everyone(aka DLAMPR) but soulmates stay the same every lifetime but theres a chance to have multiple soulmates and in rare cases you don’t meet them all in that life before you or your soulmates dies.(especially in janus’s case, for reasons i’ll get into shortly) With each life once you hit a certain age(say somewhere between 19-20) and/or meet your soulmate, you gain the memory of every life you’ve had in the past, specifically the life you lived with your soulmate.(also soulmates arent inherently romantic in this world, and i’ll mention that roman and remus are always inherently platonic soulmates to eachother, and are often born as twins to eachother, and if not, are often always the first meet in their group)

Janus is a very special case, and in their world considered almost an anomaly.

All the information gained in the world is supplied from his soulmates, who at the end of each of their current lives always end up together as a group, though it on average happens pretty early on in their lives, minus janus.

Janus is an anomaly because it seems that he’s dying every lifetime time that he meets one of his soulmates, lost to the world 24 hours after hes come into direct physical contact with the first of his soulmates in that lifetime.

(Check the tags for trigger warnings before reading!)

In the first lifetime, he meets Patton(who, in this life, is not called Patton), a young baker who takes his hand with excitement, the barest brush of skin alone triggering not a memory of a past life, but instead a brilliant feeling of connection, a soul-deep aknowledgement that their souls are brand new, and infact are connected to a whole group of souls. Patton is overtaken by a whole new kind of excitement. Janus matches it, and they plan an outting for the very next morning. Janus does not make it to the outting, succumbing to a stab wound just hours after meeting Patton while on his walk home. Patton meets the rest of their soulmates while waiting for Janus to arrive. They hear about his death a week later.

The in second lifetime, he briefly meets Virgil, theyre 16 and 17 respectively. He doesnt learn much, the brief brush of skin while waiting in a croud for a train, enough to distract him into turning around just enough to meet eyes with Virgil, who had been on a train back to meet the rest of their soulmates, an exclamation of relieved surprise on the tip of Janus’s tongue. And then Jan trips, or someone impatiently shoves at him and he loses his footing, niether of them really know for sure. One moment they feel the euphoria of their souls connecting, the next Virgil feels the bond instantly shatter alongside his heart as he watches Janus disappear under the oncoming train. Virgil spends that lifetime traumatized by his sudden death, guilt ridden in knowing their soulmate’s last lifetime’s death had ended in a similar fashion even in mer secs, and his soul takes on a much more cautious nature from then on.

In the third lifetime, he meets Remus, theyre 18. Remus manages to spend a whole hour with Janus before they touch, and it’s only because Janus talks him out of jumping off a bridge. Remus wasn’t being suicidal, just hyper moridly curious, but Janus didn’t know that. Janus strikes up a conversation with him, its snarky and fun and perfect, and Janus joins him on the railing as they talk. Janus derails Remus from jumping by mentioning that he’s never had sushi, and to Remus this is an afront to living. Remus hops back over to the safe side of the railing, declaring to fix that crisis immediately. Janus laughs and agrees, relaxing visibly. The relaxing is a mistake, as for a single second Janus forgets that hes still in a dangerous position. He slips, his hand missing the railing, Remus only just barely managing to catch his hand in time but he doesnt get a good enough grasp, the spark that triggers their soul connection distracting enough that Janus’s hands slip from Remus’s, and Remus is forced to watch in horror as Janus plummets to his doom. He scrambles to fish Janus out of the river, but they cant revive him, Janus died on impact. Remus doesn’t meet the rest of their soulmates for another three years. He never touches sushi again for the rest of that lifetime

In the forth, Roman is 17, Janus is 18, and Janus actually meets Roman multiple times, knowing full well what his life has in store, neither ever knowing. Roman and Janus are actors for the two main characters for an up and coming movie, and they get along super well. Janus has always worn gloves, scarves, long sleeves and jeans, hoodies, beanies. Its a bit taboo at such a young age, but Janus never seems to mind the controversy and never commets on it, and Roman doesn’t mind either. Janus is infact very withdrawn, and often gives very little input on what his true personality is and so Roman doesn’t push it. Later, he really, really wishes he did. Inevitably, they become closer. But it’s only until after the movie is released that Janus lets his walls down just a little. Somehow, he seems to know that Roman is his soulmate long before theyve actually touched. Somehow, for some reason that they just cant seem to fathom, at the end of a large event for the movie, Janus and Roman are being ushered away from eachother and into seperate cars to avoid an influx of fans for some reason or another, Roman doesn’t remember what. All he remembers is Janus taking a glove off his hand and brushing Roman’s cheek after he wished Roman an odd farewell. Not a see you later, just “Farewell, my Prince.” In perfect sync with a very specific line that Janus’s character had said. Roman is in too much shock by the time he’s in his own car, the past three lifetimes of memory flashing through his head taking just long enough to settle into dread as he realizes. He panics, he tries to get someone to listen, and by god do they try, but no one can get into contact with Janus in time. Janus dies in a freak car crash just minutes after they touched, dead on impact. Roman and his soulmates hold onto this movie for the rest of this lifetime, the last physical record left behind by the soulmate that fate just wont let them meet.

In the fifth, he meets Logan, each at age 21, Logan is a nurse in training, and Janus is a cashier, a college student just starting to work towards getting their law degree. By this point Logan has met all of their soulmates, and they all live in a flat together. Really, these days they all sit in wait, they have a plan amongst themselves, about what to do when they meet Janus, a last resort, a trying attempt to keep him alive just long enough to break that 24 hour threshold, to break the spell, to be able to say they did something to try and save him. So its truely a shame that in this lifetime, Janus is bleeding out from a gunshot wound by the time Logan is able to reach him. Its late at night, the police have been called, but it seems Janus was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and finds himself bleeding out on the tile floor. He doesn’t struggle, he doesn’t panic. When Logan approaches, he instead smiles sadly, and reaches his hand out to Logan. On instinct Logan takes it, just before he processes hearing Janus greet him with “Hello, Soulmate.” In vain, Logan tries to staunch the bleeding, but he’s done all he can do, and they know the real paramedics will be 2 minnutes too late. So they sit there, covered in Janus’s blood at 2 am in the middle of a shoddy convenience store, talking quietly about life and how their soulmates love them. There are tears in Logan’s eyes as Janus smiles sadly, knowingly up at Logan. He reaches his hand up and cradles Logans face, and asks Logan to “never forget to smile, okay?” Logan ends up leaving nursing, his mental health unable to take the soul-deep wound that incapacitates him when surrounded by the call of death.

In their sixth life, his soulmates wait, the group meets at age 23, and feel renewed hope as each month passes that they do not experience another traumatic death in their midst. Around age 30, confusion sets in, the hollow itch of meeting their last soulmate is dulled, almost non existant. They’d believe it gone if they didn’t feel it whisper to them late at night where theyre all gathered together. By the time their 60, the whisper seems to fade, and they slowly mourn the loss of the loved one they never got to have. Janus’s soul infact does not make it to the sixth lifetime, but not for lack of trying. His soulmates don’t want to believe it, waiting for his arrival to the very last of their days in this lifetime and never meeting him, they refuse to voice that they mightve lost Janus for good..

Fate has instead taken hold of his feeble soul, the weakest soul in an already unusually huge soulmate group, his soul only half as strong as it should be to balance fate in each lifetime, and so weak that his soul collapses under the amount of soulpower that reaches out to his own when his soul meets the others, and the fates are agitated by the constant unbalance of what should be their greatest and most intricately created group of soulmates yet. So the fates decided to hold onto his soul for a single lifetime, and spends the years mending and healing and strengthening his soul, practically filling in a full half of his soul, and spending years merging it while still carefully balancing his connection with his soulmates perfectly. The trade off is that the tampering and adjusting of his soul fucks with his soulmate memory trigger. He doesn’t forget, no, but his access to his previous lifetime memories is staggered, and so it takes months before he gets back all of his pevious lifetime memories, leaving the inital soulmate connection actually connecting but not immediately supplying his soul with any information of his own first 5 lives, leaving him blank at the start, though knowing that he and his soulmates soul’s are still older than being a brand new soul without memories, and doesn’t actually have a point in his lifetimes when he his an age and his past lifetime memories come to him, he /has/ to meet his soulmates to trigger those memories. The fates are very particular about him, keen on not providing this group with anymore unnessesary trauma.

So, imagine Janus’s genuine confusion, in his sixth life and his soulmate’s seventh life, at age 23 when he approaches a group at a college party on a whim to chat/flatter/flirt with the infamous Remus Sanders, the local social cryptid who always raises more questions than answers when you talk to him and who, Janus has learned, is a highly entertained arsonist-wannabe, and Janus knows that it’s smart to have contacts, because who knows when he’ll be need of someone who’ll commit arson with him? It just happened to be an hour earlier that Remy had spilled soda on his gloves, so he’s braving this interaction without a safety barrier but he’s heard Remus has all his soulmates already, all four of them to be exact, so he doesnt think he has much of a reason to worry. He manages to slide into the conversation easily, and none of Remus’s soulmates seem bothered by his intrusion, especially when he takes the eccentric way that Remus speaks in stride without even a pause, they just seem exasperated when he sneakily brings up the topic of fire.

Then Remus takes him by the shoulders, grinning at him almost crazily, and states “You. I like you” and, it’s obviously instinctive, the graceful way he laughs and puts a hand on Remus’s to agree, but of course the moment skin touches skin, their souls link and everything sparks. And then Remus shutters, and stares, his jaw going slack but his hands seem to grip Janus tighter. And for a moment, Janus finds it terribly, terribly fitting that he’s soulmates with a filterless pyromaniac, but then he remembers that Remus also has soulmates, and then the panic sets in because, assumably, that makes them his soulmates too.

Imagine Janus’s confusion when instead of being met with joy, he suddenly finds himself tucked carefully yet securely into Remus’s arms, being rocked by a man whose suddenly panicked and almost manically whispering “it’s him, hes here, it’s him.” Any move he makes to pull away even a little is met with a sob, Remus is crying, and Janus is so very confused. He tries to coo and comfort Remus, but each of their other soulmates crowd around them, touching his skin one by one, none of them moving away, his skin is burning from touch starvation, its a lot, its to much, its not enough, it burns.

It takes Janus over an hour, after being shuffled into a corner and placed in another soulmate’s lap, Janus thinks his name is Patton, to come back to himself, and finds his soulmates can’t stop touching him. He, too, feels the zing with each touch, the specific innate and undeniable feeling of ‘soulmate, soulmate, soulmate’ but he feels that hes very specifically out of some kind of loop considering all of his soulmates are crying.

When the fates whisper to them, three hours in, with the words “his soul was weak, we have fixed the issue, he is now yours for life to keep, he will safely continue.”

And while Janus requires quite a bit of catch-up, he feels like nows not the best time to ask. He feels more than sees the collective relief that sweeps through his soulmates, he lets them crowd around him further, touching and holding and assuring themselves and eachother that hes real, hes there, he’s staying alive, hes going to be safe. He tries not to say too much, doesn’t want to step on any sore spots, and finds theres tears in his eyes as well. He just lets himself be passed from lap to lap, and somehow or another they manage to all safely arrive at their joined home, pilling up a pillowfort into the livingroom and putting on a movie. Not once does he leave the hold of at least one soulmate, and finds at least two other hands on his person at a time up until he’s sat in the middle of the pillowfort(after he was allowed to get ready alongside the others for bed. He ends up in an oversized nasa hoodie that belongs to Logan) and the others begin to just, talk about life. Its too early to talk about the extreme protectiveness that theyve all treated him with each second, like hes about to dissapear at any moment. The thought makes him shudder, and he tries not to dwell on it.

Turns out, Virgil has the best idea of the night, suddenly and carefully kissing him, which triggers a bit of a domino effect, where Janus goes gently from soulmate to soulmate and trades kisses and hugs until everyone is breathless and giggling wetly with emotion.

And, when he wakes up the next morning, refusing to leave the warmth that is Roman’s chest and whining when Logan, who’d been acting as his other warm big spoon, start pulling away to start the day. And for the first time in this lifetime, Logan startlingly quickly relents and actually returns to their makeshift bed, pressing closer to Janus in an instant to hear his happy, sleepy hum. None of them get up for hours, and when they finally do, they order takeout, and dont stray far from eachother in the coming days.

Its the start of something new, something beautiful.

Something completely and finally whole.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #dlampr #soulmate au #DLAMP #platonic creativitwins #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #tw death #tw major character death #angst with a happy ending #tw multiple lifetimes #tw character death #tw blood mention #ask to tag #luka writes #luka’s wips #luka’s aus #luka write this #even tho at this point i’ve practically written it- however messy it may be

[burnedbyshoto]

reincarnation

— Five chances to fall in love. Five reincarnations to find the person you’re destined to be with. It just so happens that in each life you keep meeting a man with brown hair and a sweet involvement of primroses —

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pairing: kaibara sen x fem!reader

warnings: soulmate au!, reincarnation au!, royalty au!, fake dating au!, college au!, villain!kaibara au!, fluff, angst, cursing, alcohol consumption

word count: 11,820

a/n: this is for the bnharem flower server collab!!!! check out the masterlist here, its pretty dope as fuck!!!! also I know dat none yall know who he is because we sleep on class 1-b, but i worked so hard on this and I wrote it in a single day, and its 4 am rn and im exhausted so pretty please help a girl out and just read it ;-; I also tried out a new... voice??? idk how to even explain dis, but yes huzzah!!!! kaibara sen rights!!!!

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The world is a fantastic place.

And to my beautiful reader, know that this is a world where soulmates exist. A world where someone is created flawlessly for you is someone who holds you to the highest symbol, who carries you through the most significant highs and lowest lows without a whine or grievance. 

A soulmate is destined to be yours, but sadly they are hidden within the world. 

My dearest reader, you only have five chances to figure out who your soulmate is. Five reincarnations to figure out who the one who is meant for you. Lucky for most humans, soulmates are found within the first two reincarnation cycles but heed this warning.

At the end of you and your soulmates twenty-first year, you must find each other and fall in love. Should you fail to find and love your soulmate, you’re put into another reincarnation to try again. Each attempt is marked on your wrist, a Roman numeral to indicate whether you have succeeded or failed. You will carry the rest of that reincarnation unable to ever see your soulmate ever again, but when the tattoo changes colors, you know the person you love is the one for you.

Good luck, my dearest reader, this is a challenging journey, but I know that you will do well.

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“It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone on their first reincarnation!”

Your eyes looked up to the handmaiden, who was currently helping you dress for the ball tonight. You were to wear a heavy dress of silks and satin sitting prettily on your body, the detail exquisite, the meaning behind each embroidered flower astonishing. 

You knew that the importance of your appearance was paramount as the daughter of a duke and duchess. You could very much be a future Queen consort considering that the royal families were dried of ladies. This was to be a ball in your name, a moment for courting, and arrangements to be made. 

At the age of eighteen, it was much later than other people would have expected it to be, after all, most balls such as these were to be done in the sixteenth year, definitely not the eighteenth. Two years truly made a difference.

But to your parent’s advantage, it would mean that by tonight you would most likely be engaged to some man you had been educated on years before. 

Glancing down at the small Roman Numeral I on your wrist, you smiled, nodding your head. Around this area of the world, most people already seemed to be on their second and third reincarnation. For all that was good, your parents themselves were on their third and second reincarnation. They weren’t soulmates but figured a life of leisure and power was better than a life of love since they had more chances.

“I know that I am the only one on my first reincarnation cycle around here,” you sighed, your manicured finger tracing the innard of your wrist. The red ink was strong against your skin, so strongly procuring against your skin, a statement of your isolation from your soulmate. 

Long ago, you had learned about soulmates, you remembered the warm light that held you in your earliest memories that explained the concept, and you further learned more as you grew. A near 75% of the population encountered and fell in love with their soulmate on their first reincarnation. Of course, once you fell in love and lived happily ever after, that was it for you, or so that’s what everyone claimed as there had been no true love gold ink gracing anyone’s wrists on their second or so on reincarnation. 

You were a bit of a romantic, keening in the thought of having someone perfect for you. Inexplicably yours, impossibly perfect for you.

You often wondered if you had already met your soulmate, but the barring symbol of no one else having a roman numeral one on their wrists made you realize it was no one you already knew.

“Mrs. Lane?” you spoke, your fingers twisting into the silk undergarments you wore.

Your hair was done already, the makeup sitting beautifully on your skin. But there was an undeniable fear in your eyes when you brushed over the mirror before you. 

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Have you met your soulmate already?” you asked, your stomach twisting in the thought of what may happen tonight. Could you really handle maybe passing a handsome gentleman or a beautiful woman with a Roman numeral one on their wrist and resist not immediately believing it was your soulmate?

“I have,” she nodded, exposing her slender wrist to you, the gold Roman Numeral II shining beautifully in your gaze. “He works in the palace, actually. Why do you ask, Your Grace?”

A soft smile graced your face at the sight of the golden ink. For too long, you had only seen it within your literature. Never once having been exposed to it in your world that was heavily plagued with those who cared more about politics than love. 

“It just occurred to me that I had never once asked if you had,” you smiled, your fingers letting go of your tightly held undergarments. “But let us carry on, my guests should be expecting me soon.”

~

Balls were glamorous and needless to say, quite fun.

The music was lively, the food was exquisite, and the people were merry and handsome as they danced around the floor. Most balls you attend always leave you rosy-cheeked with both alcohol in your blood and from the rounds of dancing you would participate in, but tonight was different. 

Your cheeks were rosy with exhaustion, hours of being twirled along the dancefloor, terribly bleak conversations going on between you and a hopeful courter, and the refusal of alcohol from your parent’s behalf. They wouldn’t have you messing up their only chance of seeing you married to the Prince, who was duller than a rock. 

Your feet hurt with the unforgiving throb of the tight heels you had to wear, and in this moment of peace, you wanted to cry when you watched two men come to approach the table where you sat between your parents.

“Your Grace,” the older man bowed lowly, his most likely son bowing as well.

“Duke Kaibara, what do we owe this pleasure?” your father spoke clearly and eloquently, the smile on his face charming, but you knew better. 

He didn’t want a marriage of equal status — especially not when the Kaibara family was known for their war abilities, which were meaningless in a time of peace.

“My son wishes to have a dance with your own daughter,” Duke Kaibara spoke with a transparent lie painted on his face.

Attempting not to scoff, you glanced over at the man who stood beside the Duke.

He was reasonably tall, his stature befitting of someone of his class and quite honestly much better than the Royal Highness himself. Unruly dark brown hair that you could tell immediately had his servants in a craze to put into the slicked-back style it was attempted to be in, the few strands falling into his eyes, making him more comfortable to look at. His eyes were as black as midnight, shining bleakly yet with stern sharpness to it that had you questioning his stoic aura. 

The black of his suit was also adorned with pops of gold and royal blue, definitely a commander.

“Y/n would love to accompany him for a dance,” your mother spoke, her hand pressing against the back of your dress, lifting you up to stand before you could even think of protesting.

“I’m glad,” the Duke laughed heartily, and you sighed quietly.

With your hand pressing into his own, both of you walked in silence to the dance floor. 

The song began, one that involved more one on one time and less prancing with everyone on the dancefloor, and you were unsure whether you appreciated that at all. On the one hand, it would have saved you the horror of having his smoldering eyes everywhere on you, but it also meant you two could waltz around without a care.

“I don’t care to marry you,” he spoke suddenly, catching you off guard immediately. “As a matter of fact, I had no desire to come to your ball.”

“Well, that’s a bit rude to say,” you splutter, your fingers digging into his shoulder while you nearly stumbled in your box step. “There was no need to tell me that!”

“My father thinks that because we are both in our first reincarnation, it will give some leeway into having our union, but he is too much of a romantic.”

“And just who are you exactly, Your Grace? I know of your surname, but if you are going to be speaking to me so brashly, I have the right to your birth name.”

As the two of you spun against the floor, the throb in your feet ignored; his eyes came down to meet yours in a piercing gaze. Was he shocked by your lack of submission?

“Sen,” he spoke, his lips pursing. “Sen of House Kaibara.”

“Well, Sen, you are incredibly rude!” you flustered, smoothly moving with him with the sudden pick up of speed in the music. “Even if you are not here for my hand, the least you could do is pretend!”

“You looked like someone who appreciated honesty, Your Grace,” there’s a glint in his eyes. Something you can’t quite pin or understand, but it sends your stomach into a loop at the way his lip quirks with his words, and how his eyes narrow almost as if in teasing.

“Oh, I definitely am, but even that was too honest for our first conversation,” you bite back, your long ruined lipstick-stained lips pulling into a smile. “Have you never been around a lady before? You should really be paying attention to your etiquette classes, Sen.”

“Are you really lecturing me on my etiquette while calling me Sen?” he asked, his jaw-dropping just the slightest in disbelief, using a heavy hand on your waist to pull you in and twirl you out of the way of a drunken pair of dancers. “I think it might be you who needs to be paying attention, Your Grace. Especially if you are defying my every word and not turning into a submissive rock at my commands.”

“It is a woman’s job to make sure a man knows their place,” you snickered, twirling with the beat of the song. “I am simply doing that.”

Kaibara’s mouth opened, words almost daring to pour out, but alas, the song was over.

The two of you parted, bowing to one another while the other dancers did the same while everyone cheered and rejoiced in their ability to dance to this song.

“Would you like to go on a walk with me?” Kaibara asked, his hand reaching out towards you. 

“I don’t care to walk with you,” you breezed, quickly repeating his first words to you ever. “But I assume it will be better than returning to the table to be sold off.”

Although Kaibara’s stoic face had long remelted over his face, you couldn’t deny the glint of amusement in his eyes at your words. With yet another outstretched hand, you took it, and off the two of you went. Away from the party and into the cold night.

The both of you wandered aimlessly through the gardens of your estate, the hedge labyrinth being something you went through with him under his predictions as you already knew the answer to this puzzle. 

You felt at ease with Kaibara, the initial belligerence of his personality seemingly disappearing the more you talked with him. He was still quite aggressive, his words clear, loud, and intentional with each speech he made. But you found yourself enjoying it more and more, especially after the two of you bonded over the spinning fountain in the royal palace. 

“Do you like flowers?” he asked when the two of you sat against a stone bench.

“Depends,” you hum, placing a finger on your chin. “I am less than thrilled with flowers with thorns. Do you have any idea how many idiot men have given my flowers with thorns in them?”

“I will assume a lot?”

“Three! That is three too many!”

Kaibara laughed merrily, his hand running through his gelled unruly hair, while his head dipped back to stare at the sky. 

“I’ve only gifted someone a flower once, and I did not go according to plan.”

Your eyebrows scrunched, you studied the man who stared up at the sky in a way that looked like he would fight the gods themselves should they appear. The soft glow of the halls barely reached this side of the garden, but with the help of the heavenly moon, you saw him clearly. He was a stranger, you knew that, but there was something about him that called for you, pleading you to learn more about him — everything about him.

“What was the plan?” you asked softly, your bare foot hitting his leather-clad shoe with a pointed toe. He had helped you take off your shoes the moment you entered the garden.

“Well, we were the same age, as you and I are,” Kaibara nodded, his hands pressing to the bench behind him as he shifted his weight to lean on his hands. “As I spoke earlier, my dad was a romantic, and embarrassingly enough, I was too at one point…”

He trailed off, and your head tilted, you felt like you knew where he was going with this.

“I offered the girl I loved a red rose, but she told me that we would be wrong together. She was on her second incarnation, and I was on my first, so there was no way we could be destined for one another,” Kaibara confessed, his tongue wetting his lips while he shrugged. 

“That is quite unfortunate,” you frown, your gaze dropping to your hands. 

“It was.”

The two of you fell into a tense silence, your mind unable to procure any form of thought to ease the tension between the two of you. But you looked up and saw a bush of white primroses before you. With a surge of confidence, you stood up and took a single primrose from the bush. Returning to Kaibara’s side, you placed the primrose in his hands.

“You may not appreciate this primrose, but our estate is known for the primrose, it's a trademark of my family. You may not have found your soulmate yet, Your Grace, but when you do, they will be amazed to call you theirs.”

Kaibara’s hold on the white flower was delicate, his fingers twirling the stem between his fingers while he sat there. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he nodded, his eyes warming up while he locked eyes on you.

“You’re a bit weird, you know that y/n.”

“Only those I trust know that,” you winked, further delighting in the way that a crooked grin sat on his face.

Unfortunately for you after that night, you would never have one like that again. The arrangement to marry His Royal Highness was set, and you would never see Kaibara again after your wedlock to the Prince that happened on your twenty-first year alive — not that the two of you realized that.

You long after passed away.

You lived a happy life, a full life, but the thoughts of his Grace Duke Kaibara Sen always plagued your mind no matter what you did. How you wished that he was to be reborn too so that you could possibly meet him once again.

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“Sen, leave my primroses alone!”

“I just can’t believe you still have these?!”

Your face was abnormally warm while you stared at your childhood friend Kaibara who was currently walking around your entire room, deliberately, and horribly going through your personal belongings. He was in workout clothes, black gym shorts, and a grey t-shirt under a yellow windbreaker; the sight of him so comfortable in your room made you a bit more embarrassed. 

The two of you had been friends for forever! Your parents were best friends and soulmates, so they figured that both of you would be soulmates. While it had been a cute and innocent thought when the two of you were young, it wasn’t so nice with the two of you nearing twenty-one and with no actual relationship in sight. How your parents found each other on their first attempt was beyond you, especially since you had the exact ii marked on your wrist.

But the worst part of your parents trying to convince both of you that you were soulmates was the thought that the two of you had once sort of dated. It had happened in secret, after all, both of you agreed should your parents find out it would equate to some block party celebration — which both of you didn’t want.

Still, the two of you were only sixteen when it happened, and while it could have happened that the two of you were meant for one another considering, you shared the same birth year and were on the exact reincarnation it didn’t work out. You loved Kaibara, you indeed did, but the romantic feelings between the two of you quickly burned out. Thankfully, it hadn’t made anything genuinely awkward between the two of you, and your parents never knew!

Win-win!

But the first memory you ever had of Kaibara and you, it involved a primrose. It was spring, and he had found a bush full of them, and with his chubby baby hands, he had picked them out for you and gave it to you. You had loved it, and it seemed to become an unspoken tradition between you and him.

Every significant moment between your lives, he would always give you a primrose, even when they were out of season. 

The last time he had given you a primrose was when both of you graduated high school and went onto college. He had gone to a different one from you, and it was like facing death itself when you no longer saw him in your classes. Nowadays, the two of you only saw each other during breaks and the occasional facetime.

So in the middle of summer break, he was over in your room after a run — judging everything you were saving apparently.

“I should destroy these flowers; they’re not supposed to be kept like this,” Kaibara sighed, the stems of the dried and pressed flowers so brittle between his fingers. He looked back down at the box he had found, his free hand stretching out towards your storming figure to keep you at bay. “Damn, y/l/n, did you really keep every single primrose I ever gave you?!”

“It’s sentimental, asshole!” you cried in embarrassment, your hands trying to grab the box that indeed held every primrose he had given you with a tag that had the day you got it and why.

“How have I known you my entire life and still not know this about you?” Kaibara grinned, his knees bent, and ass jutting out to keep you from nearing too close.

“I’m going to kill you!” you sobbed, your fists beating into his back while he simply continued on.

“I haven’t seen you face to face in months, and you’re going to kill me? You’re sort of the worst best friend ever,” Kaibara admitted, finally relenting and letting go of the box and leaving your possessions alone. 

You quickly covered the box, grateful that he hadn’t destroyed anything, and sighed when you put the box back in your bookshelf. Out of sight, out of mind for now.

“I do have a favor to ask of you,” Kaibara admits, your bed groaning quietly under his weight while he sat on your bed. Your face immediately questioned his motives; you knew your best friend probably better than he knew himself, and you knew that there was no bliss in having him say those words to you. All your life, his favors had nearly landed you in the hospital after all.

“And what favor is this?” you asked, your arms crossing while you looked at him with your eyebrow raised. “Am I going to have to go egg your highschool rivals' house again? Oh! Am I going to tell your girlfriend to not be intimidated by me anymore?”

Kaibara’s grin melted away, a stoic and unnerved face glaring back at you. Being best friends with someone like him was not a good thing at times like this, it seemed.

“Then I’ll go ask Ami for help then,” he spoke without a hint of mercy, his hands pressing onto his lap to stand up.

“Wait, no, Sen! I was joking! Please don’t do this to me!” you whined, shoving him back down onto his bed so that he was sitting there with a still expressionless face, but his eyes gave him away. “Anyone but stupid, Ami!”

“Well, if you don’t want to help me, I’m not going to waste my time trying to convince you,” he pointed out with a slow blink.

How he got under your nerves sometimes.

“What do you want then?” you grumble, sitting down on the bed beside him, your arms folded and a pout on your lips. 

“I need you to be my date on top of pretending to be my girlfriend,” Kaibara replied immediately, his eyes resting on you with ease and grace. You looked ready to question everything he was saying, so he moved on to explain. “My parents were invited to a wedding, and I need to win a bet.”

“What kind of fucking bets are you making that it involves having a girlfriend? I thought you were anti-soulmates?” you question, your gaze unamused while your dark-haired friend raked his fingers through his spiky hair. 

“Okay, first of all, I just found your creepy primrose collection, so I know you’re still in love with me, but I’m going to need you to back off —” he dodged a punch you aimed for his shoulder— “But the bet was made because no one thought I could get a girl like you.”

“You can’t get a girl like me.”

“I already have, hello?”

You grinned at his look of discontent at your statement, but you finally sighed, your head coming to lean on his shoulder. You smiled, feeling his head resting upon yours, and a silent agreement was exchanged through this pose. 

“When’s the wedding?” you ask, your eyes closing at the gentle rolling heat emitting from his body.

“This Friday.”

“The theme?”

“Summer? I don’t fucking know.”

“How long have we been dating?”

“Seven months.”

“Oh, so detailed,” you softly sigh, eventually laughing when his fingers twisted the skin on your shoulder. “Do you still kiss like a twelve-year-old boy?”

“No,” he groaned, his hand covering his face. “We shouldn’t have to kiss anyways.”

You laugh more, your shoulder pressing into his a few times while you bite your lower lip, “I’m just making sure we cover all the bases.”

“Yeah sure,” he sighed, holding your hand in his. “Thank you for agreeing.”

“I’m going to look hot as fuck, and I expect to make sure that everyone at this wedding is starstruck by me.”

“I’m sure they will be.”

~

The apples of your cheeks burned from all the fake smiling you had done while exchanging hellos with the other guests you had never seen in your life at this wedding. It was the wedding for Kaibara’s boss, which explained why your parents were not here today — most parties had both your families in attendance after all.

“When Sen told us that the two of you were finally dating, I think I actually cried,” his mother told you, her hands grabbing yours when you sat beside her. As part of the favor, Kaibara had asked you to run most of the crowd control just because he was horrible at keeping things… not hostile. “Your parents told me that they didn’t know either!”

You laughed, your gaze flashing over to Kaibara, who was in the middle of a conversation with the guests who were sitting at his left. A coworker, it seemed, and if you knew any better, a coworker he liked just based on his body language.

“Yeah, it just sorta happened over a call?” you squawk unsure of how to handle this best. “I guess it helped that we’ve known each other for so long!”

She nodded her head, her eyes swimming with mirth and love while she sighed happily. 

“I can’t wait until it’s your wedding with Kaibara!”

With a nod of agreement, you were almost too excited when plates of food were distributed to you all. For the remainder of the dinner, you and Kaibara put up a solid front, the both of you falling into old habits of once being lovers to pull off this scam. It was the gentle whispers between the two of you, the silent exchanges, and the physical actions of your relationship that seemed to tie the story together.

“Y/n?” Kaibara’s female coworker spoke to you in the middle of a joking argument between you and Kaibara. You paused mid-rant, your head dipping towards the table so you could see her past Kaibara’s chest. 

“Yes?”

“Do you mind coming to grab some dessert?”

With no reason to say no, you nodded your head, a smile gracing your figure.

The two of you went over to the esteemed dessert table. Piles upon piles of sweets and goodies sat on the table that called your name while you skimmed around with his coworker.

“I’m Kimi, by the way,” she introduced herself when you zeroed in on a brownie.

“Nice to meet you!” you smiled, the name further confirming the fact that she was the one that Kaibara liked.

“Likewise,” she smiled, bringing a Rice Krispy treat to her plate. “Um, Sen told me about the bet, I know that it’s all fake.”

Your eyebrows raised, you hadn’t known that much.

“Don’t worry! I’m not spilling! This is a bet against Tsurabara, and I want him to lose anyways,” she quickly interrupted, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “You two looked ready to start a big fight, so I thought it was best to get you out.”

A burst of soft laughter bubbled in your throat while you nodded, “Oh yeah, it’s okay! I’ve known Kaibara since we were in our mom’s bellies, this isn’t anything!”

Kimi’s eyes blinked rapidly, her eyes casting to the side in some sort of inferior action that you knew almost too well as the best friend of a handsome boy. “He likes you too,” you whispered, winking at her before walking back to the table to provide your fake-boyfriend and his parents with their favorite desserts.

But as you returned to the table, you were stopped when Kaibara stood up, his face set in a soft scowl, and his stare a mile away.

“Please go and dance with our son, y/n!” his father asked with sincere hope in his voice. “The two of you have been entertaining us this entire time, please go have fun!”

You wanted to say that it was fine, but it seemed in the three minutes that you had gone, Kaibara had been made to do this. He grabbed the plate of desserts in your hand, dropping them onto the table and led you out to the dance floor where everyone was gathered.

And as a slow dance came through, a weird sense of deja vu overcame you when he held you close. 

“I haven’t danced with you in years,” you mused when your wrists rested onto his shoulders, his hands warm on your waist. 

“And that’s my fault?” Kaibara asked, his eyebrows raised in amusement and annoyance.

“For sure,” you sighed your gaze stubbornly on his. “If you didn’t let me go to all those high school dances with a date that wasn’t you, I wouldn’t have this problem.”

“You’re a brat, you know that?”

“You say brat, but I prefer the term… aware of my worth.”

“You’re as equal in value as my pinky toe is.”

And even though there was never an awkward moment in your relationship with Kaibara, there was this melting that occurred between the two of you. Something invisible that melted away between the two of you while you swayed side to side while in his arms. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he lay on your head. A peaceful silence while you danced in time, a perfect movement between the two of you while the music seemed to fade away.

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” he whispered in your left ear.

There was a weird yet pleasurable shiver that traveled down your spine with his hot breath against your ear. You liked it, but that still didn’t stop the twist in your stomach when you pulled away. His eyes were dark and serious, so very much Kaibara Sen it seemed.

“Okay.”

His lips met yours in a soft embrace. The smoothness of his lips softly parted between yours, dancing in different ways from your swaying bodies, and much more fulfilling than any other kiss you had ever shared with him before. Your fingers locked in the back of his hair, and he drew shapes into your back.

Kiss after kiss was exchanged between the two of you on this dance floor, each sequential kiss blazing your heart brighter and brighter until you realized that your heart was hammering disgustingly loud in your ears when he finally pulled away for the last time. You didn’t think that this favor would have landed you in the hospital, but with the way your heart failed to stop drumming violently throughout your body after the many kisses the two of you shared that day, it was hard to say that he didn’t. 

But after that day, you came to realize that you still liked Kaibara, but he didn’t feel the same way. You cut off contact with him when he started dating Kimi, and the two of you last saw each other Christmas on your twenty-first year alive. He was happy and in love, and you quietly sat with your head in the storm clouds.

After that… you never saw him again, which made you think that made your parents have been right about the two of you being soulmates. 

But you had to move on for this reincarnation, it seemed.

You lived, loved, married, and died.

The box of primroses he had given you your most prized possession until the day you peacefully passed away.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ iii ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Can I please get a black roast coffee... in the biggest size you have,” you sniffle, your eyes red, fingers dabbing a tissue at the falling tears on your face.

“Uh, that’ll be seven hundred yen,” the man with the name tag Kaibara S. spoke.

You handed him the cents in your hand and waited for your receipt.

“This is only five hundred,” Kaibara slowly stated, and it seemed to push you over the edge because you began to bawl.

Primrose Coffeeshop was the only coffee shop that had discounts for broke college students such as yourself nearby, so it was the place you went to practically every day. So it was to no surprise to workers such as Kaibara to see that you were finally breaking down.

The world blurred in the time he told you that it was okay to not have the adequate amount since you were always buying things from the store, to someone quite literally leading you back to your mountain of textbooks and laptop, and the coffee coming out and being placed at your table. Through your tear drowned eyes, you looked at the assignment you had to write.

Twenty pages of research for something you didn’t understand at all. 

“Are you okay?” a voice interrupted the hiccuping snuffled sobs that continued to pour from your mouth.

With a tear-streaked face, a wet nose, and blotchy skin, you looked at the dark brown haired barista who seemed to have gotten off of his own shift. His apron rested on his forearm, his hair still pushed back with the hairband that sat on his face, and his clothes were plain and simple. His face was pretty stoic to look at. Given the apparent discomfort in his eyes, he must have taken a lot to ask you this.

“N-No!” you sobbed, your lips trying to keep shut to stop the self-proclaimed horrible sobs that still tried to pour from your mouth.

“What’s… uh… what’s wrong?”

“My whole life is falling apart!” you laugh humorlessly, your hands slapping the coffee table with a pathetic sniffle. “I-I’m on my third reincarnation, and the statistics of finding your soulmate this late in the cycle have plummeted dramatically! My thesis for my p-paper isn’t viable anymore because I didn’t c-contact my professor on time. So I h-had to make a new one… I don’t even know!”

Kaibara remained silent, unsure if he should stay or leave. He had only asked because his coworker had been weirdly worried for you, and well… he did too, but this was a bit too much for him. Why couldn’t you have just said you were alright?!

“That… sucks, I’m sorry.”

You let out a choked sob, the veins in your face bulging in your attempt to just… stay quiet.

Kaibara stared at you, pity and concern seeping into his bones the longer he looked. With a sharp sigh, he pulled the chair out and sat down. “How can I help?”

Somehow from this one interaction, a weird comradery began between you and the barista you had ordered from for two years. 

In the span of an hour, he had helped you calm down, calmly instructing and aiding you in your academic endeavor to understand what you were doing. It was a paper for a stupid physics class you were forced to take, and thankfully Kaibara was a physics student himself. 

Kaibara introduced you to some reliable papers, explaining to you the things you didn’t understand in very perceptive depth and understanding that you didn’t get from your own professor. An hour into talking and you realized that you were no longer crying, your coffee went drunk to completion, and you were smiling while he pointed to different things on your screen.

“I’m y/l/n y/n,” you finally introduced yourself when he was standing to leave. 

“I know,” he nodded, a soft smile on his face. “You have been ordering from me with that name for two years now.”

“Well, it wasn’t ever an introduction, though,” you pointed out with a sigh. “Besides, this is much more official.”

He nodded in agreement, his hand pulling off the headband in his hair, letting his shaggy hair fall onto his eyes. “I’m Kaibara Sen, and I know you didn’t know my first name.”

“I did not,” you agree, your head bowing in both thanks.

He seemed to debate something in his head, teetering between telling you and not, but with a tilt of your head, and a lean towards him, he broke.

“I’m in here a lot, I don’t know if you’ve noticed? I work fulltime on top of going to school and guessing by the professor’s name, you also attend Tokyo University,” Kaibara said, his eyes locked onto yours. “If you want, I can help you out for the rest of the semester with physics. I know that it can be a hard class.”

“Are… are you serious?!” you gasp, your hands pressing to your mouth in undeniable joy and mirth.

“Completely.”

“I’d appreciate that so much!” you chirped, your body resisting the urge to hug him in your gratitude. 

“Okay, that’s good,” he nodded, his feet already moving towards the exit.

You watched as he walked to the door, but noticed that he hesitated when he reached the door.

Wordlessly he lifted up his left arm and showed off a tattoo.

iii

“I’m also on my third reincarnation,” he admitted with a shrug, and the embarrassing memory of your breakdown hit you heavily over the head while your face grew red hot. “It’s totally okay if you haven’t met your soulmate yet, that’s why we have multiple shots, right?”

You were for a loss of words, only managing to nod your head in stunned embarrassment. Kaibara smiled, his face genuinely pleased while he pushed onto the front door.

“Then, I’ll see you later, y/l/n.”

Like that, a friendship was born between you and the cute barista.

Without even this new tutoring system between the two of you, you had always shown up at the coffee shop every day, but now it was put at specific times — typically taking in mind his shift and class schedule. Day in and day out, he would help you out with physics, teaching you about work and joules and energy, and you, in turn, would buy lots of coffee and pastries and even helped him with his own work that wasn’t physics related.

You came to know more about Kaibara too.

About how he was born the same year you were, or how the both of you were a bit scared about the fact that you were on your third reincarnation. You both would even make up extremely extravagant stories of your past lives. Of how you were royalty and the smartest geniuses alive who had created the items you had used to this very day. 

Jokes of knowing Newton and Plato and Shakespeare never failed to make the both of you smile during moments where you weren’t worrying about your academia. 

Kaibara Sen was someone you could come to see could be very special in your life. His often neutral and stoic personality quickly melted away to become invigorating and chaotically loud. He was someone you would very much appreciate to be friends with, no matter what class you could have met him in or timeline you met him in.

“How do you feel about this year?” 

Your words were soft in the empty coffee shop, the warm sweater you wore snug on your body while you drank a new concoction Kaibara made for a future menu item.  It was something sweet, not overwhelmingly so, just enough that made it pleasant to drink without milk or sugar — not that you didn’t mind a cup of black coffee every once in a while.

“I’d rather not make it to a fourth reincarnation,” you heard Kaibara admit, from beside you, his face buried in the notes he was rewriting during your studying session. “This seems like a good time frame to have things end with the person I’m meant to be with. Nothing crazy is happening, it’s calm… I like that.”

“You have no sense of adventure Sen!” you laugh, your hands bringing the coffee cup to the table and writing down your thoughts and rating for the drink onto the yellow paper he had given to you for an official review. “I think I’m going to push it to reincarnation number five, I want to see the flying cars and moving cities.”

“I’m not sure if that sounds horrible or like a nightmare,” he dryly stated, flipping his notebook for the next significant section to write on.

“Don’t be rude,” you huff, your pen scratching out the mistake you made with a frown. “I mean, I wouldn’t remember anything, but it would still be nice!”

“And just who do you think your soulmate is?” Kaibara asked, his pencil dropping on his notes while he shook his sore and tired wrist out. He looked at you with a crooked grin that made you smile back, and he leaned in to whisper, “I can imagine that you’ve pictured what they look like.”

“How’d you know?!” you ask in mock surprise, your hand pressing to your mouth in a dramatic effect.

“You look the type,” he snickered, leaning back against his chair. “Okay, what does a lover boy look like, and what does lover girl look like?”

“Okay, so ideally, a male soulmate will look like a supermodel. Like the kind that just drives girls and older women wild because goddamn is he fine,” you whistle, your tongue wetting your lips in an attempt to mask your humor from this.

“Yes, I can see you with someone like that too,” Kaibara sagely nodded his head, his fingers now grasping the pencil in his hand. “Now, the other?”

“If it’s a girl… I don’t care, just as long as she’s super tall,” you sigh wistfully, your smile growing when Kaibara seems to agree with this information.

“You are ready to meet your soulmate, I’ve decided,” Kaibara announced his pencil scratching his paper as he began to write again.

“Oh thank you, kami-sama, please reveal to me the name of my betrothed.” 

“I will, under one circumstance, and one circumstance only.”

The smile that spread on your face was warm, your eyes looking at how his lips were curled into his own smile that he often enjoyed hiding from you.

“What must a mere stupid mortal like me do?”

Kaibara finished writing his section of the notes before pulling away, his eyes severe while they peered at you. Dark, serious, and very, very intense.

He often confused you; he was so dark and brooding at times but often melted into someone you could only describe as a twelve-year-old boy finding out that his parents installed his favorite game to whatever console he loved most. His eyes, despite their deep charcoal color, seemed to melt into warm chocolate the longer he held your gaze, and finally, he spoke:

“Go on a date with me?”

Your eyes blinked rapidly, and a sour feeling erupted in your chest at his words.

Oh no.

“I… I can’t,” you spoke, your eyes traveling to your lap, the previous warmth in your chest disappearing quicker than the speed of light.

Kaibara blinked, his jaw opening and closing repetitively, almost as if in confusion and misunderstanding of the situation. 

“Can I ask why not?” he spoke, but his voice had never sounded this hollow before.

“I’m actually seeing someone right now,” you admit slowly, your stomach twisting and knotting because dear god had you led him on this entire time? “We uh… we started dating a bit after you and I started talking.”

Kaibara’s face was void of all emotion, the deep chocolate gone from his eyes, replaced with only reliable bitter charcoal. 

“Are they… are they your soulmate?” he asked in the softest of whispers, a tone you recognized as someone who was doing everything in their power not to cry. His nostrils flared, and he trembled slightly, his stoic mask entirely see-through to you. 

“I hope so,” you admit, your fingers digging into your sweater. “I’m sorry, Sen.”

Kaibara’s lips press into a thin wavering line, and he shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. Um, let’s finish up?”

He didn’t accept the rejection well, although he was still a good friend and helping you out, you could read this man better than yourself; it seemed because you could see how much it pained him to sit next to you every day and help you. Study sessions diminished by a lot, his free time being occupied more and more until it was finally after midnight for new years, and despite whispering that you loved your partner at the stroke of midnight, the tattoo remained red — not golden.

 You visited the Primrose Coffeeshop the moment it was opened, and to your dismay, Kaibara had left the shop, and his phone number no longer worked. 

You stayed with your partner; both of you agree to just live out the rest of your life in love since you had been so sure of the other being your soulmate. But no matter how much time had passed, the shape of your soulmate began to resemble Kaibara, but you knew better than to wish for such silly things, especially in this world. For if it was true, there was no use to even trying to find him — after all, the world forbade it.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ iv ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The world was emerging with the beginning of quirks.

There wasn’t a high population of individuals with quirks yet, but there was a growing number of them. People hated those with quirks, pushing backs against the “freaks” of nature, demanding that they get put down and killed without a moment’s thought.

Without a doubt, people with quirks would begin to fight back, some turning to villainy, some to vigilante work, and some to hero work. 

Everything was masked, no one could know anyone’s true identity, or else it would end in heads being chopped off. It was like a comic book gone wrong.

And you? You were a hero, someone just trying to get by because while you didn’t want to be a freak of nature, those with powerful quirks using them against the quirkless still was not a righteous society.

Right now, you were living the most perfect life.

A secret hero that the quirkless were starting to appreciate, keeping a big evil villain in check, succeeding in your job, and in love with none other than Kaibara Sen, who you were so positive was your soulmate.

You screeched as Kaibara held you over his shoulder. Your legs kicked as he threw you onto the bed. His grinning face blowing raspberries into your exposed stomach. Your howls doing nothing to stop him. 

“Stop it!” you shriek, trying to remove his lips from your abdomen. “I’m–Sen–GOING TO PEE IF YOU DON’T STOP!”

Kaibara pulls away, peppering kisses up your chest until he’s kissing you over and over again. Your lips can’t even form a pout from your exhaustion, letting him kiss you so weirdly while you lay in defeat. “If you peed yourself, I would have made you clean it up.”

“You’re the worst boyfriend ever!!!” you moan in exhaustion as Kaibara nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. 

“I know, it matches your worst girlfriend category too,” Kaibara grins against your skin, and your fingers tug at his hair, trying to get him to kiss you again.

“Mm, so I’m the worst girlfriend? I might call Silence on myself then,” you tease, your lips pressing against his. 

“I would fight her to keep you then,” Kaibara brushes your hair out of your eyes, and your eyes flutter. God, there was so much you would do for this man. You loved him so much, it hurt you.

“Alright, baby, I have to go! It’s ladies’ night!” you sigh into his mouth despite doing everything you could to keep him there. Kaibara’s hands keep you close to him as his tongue slips into your mouth. You moan in half-hearted defeat at the feeling of his tongue dancing with yours. 

“You can tell Fukuda-san she can rip you out of my fucking hands,” Kaibara growls as he sucks softly against your neck. You arch into him as you shake your head. 

“Stupid, she could totally beat your ass, and you have that — fuck, you have that meeting of yoURS!” you smack his chest when his fingers brush against your bare skin. “Kaibara Sen!”

“Fine, fine, fine!” Kaibara chuckles, pulling away, love lacing his eyes. “I love you, stay safe tonight? You girls can’t handle your liquor.”

You roll your eyes as you peck a last kiss to his lips. “Only because we go straight for the hard stuff!!!”

Kaibara walks you out of his house, and into your car. His face sticking through the window for some last kisses. You give him as many as you can until you have no more time to waste. “Okay, bye! I love you!” you chirped, finally driving off.

You watch as Kaibara continues to wave at you from the street, a smile on your face until you turn the corner. Your smile instantly drops as you’re far away. 

You give a call to Fukuda, and she instantly picks up.

“Hello? Are you ready? There’s a lot of activity going on tonight… I’m worried,” Fukuda’s voice cries, and you’re consumed with the smallest bit of guilt as you drive faster. 

“I’m sorry… where to first?”

~

You ran along rooftops, your eyes locked on the man running away from you. Your breathing is harsh, raspy. You’ve been running for almost an hour now, jumping and weaving through pipes. You’re trying to get to him, the one man you’ve been chasing for years now. The man that taunted your dreams. Your life.

Your eyes caught onto the rubbish on a nearby ceiling, and you threw out your arm. Yellow energy shoots from your arms as it attaches to the objects and falls. Trapping the man by high walls, and a fifty story drop. 

“Come on, you know you want to give in!” you pant as the man stops running, turns around, and his guard is up. His gaze concentrated on you entirely as you stopped in front of him. The yellow energy filling your hands as you raise your own guard. “Give in.”

“As much as I would love to wrestle it out with you, sweetheart, I’m in a loving relationship.” his voice is dripping with sarcasm as whirring noises emit from his skin. 

The two of you were among the minuscule population that had superpowers. A revolutionary feat that had the world in battle. You were a superhero. As if you were straight off a comic book, you fought against people who threatened those beneath them. Hell, most times, you were a glorified therapist! You really only hardly ever got into fistfights, but this man. This… vile man in front of you was an exception. He was cruel.

Using this power of his to create chaos and mayhem. It was not something you liked, you hated him for it, and you have been trying to get him. To corner him! But he was always one step ahead. A finger brushes away from you as you try to get him.

It was a dreadful and repeating dance now, one the two of you frequently explored. You would lunge forward, and he would take a step backward, you would spin out, and he would pull you back in. Even the way you two fought, it was fluid, sharp, deadly, yet melodic. The occasional locking fists could have been a dance had it not been for the fire in your stance.

The masks on his face covered everything on him, but you knew he was looking at you. The only thing you needed though, was to have him pinned to the ground. His wrists in a handcuff as you dropped him off to the police. Then you’d be able to go home to Kaibara, to tell him the only secret you kept from him. 

You ducked under his gyrating fist, something you had known too well as it sent you flying into walls on multiple occasions, but he stopped jumping backward when you rolled to the side.

“I will have to bid you adieu, my sweet Silence! Duty calls, and well, I’m merely here to distract you!”

Your eyes widened as an explosion blew in the distance, and you whipped around. You snap back through to see him waving goodbye, and you freeze. “Oh, no...”

You took off in the direction of the explosion, your heart hammering away as you near it. Screams and cries echoing through the streets as you jumped in to help. Your words aiding everyone in the fiery trap. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you!” You repeated over and over, but their pain never stopped.

~

“Hi, beautiful,” Kaibara says, walking into your room. Your eyes look up at him in the mirror, and your smile is affectionate. Kaibara is in a pair of dark blue slacks. A white button-up shirt that hugged his chest beautifully, and a black-tie with a jacket on. His hair combed back, overall, he was drop-dead gorgeous. 

The brown-haired man walks to you and hugs you by your waist. Kaibara’s eyes dawdling on your outfit as you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple. “Hi.” 

“Let’s go for dinner now?”

You nod your head, this dinner was a much-needed distraction from the explosion after all. “Yes, let’s go.”

The dinner is fantastic. 

You love the way Kaibara’s eyes burn like steady embers into you the entire night, his energy never once wavering. His hand held yours after the meal was over, listening to you all while he pressed fluttering kisses to the tattoo that reads iv. You giggle out his name as he refuses to quit, and your cheeks burn.

“Y/l/n y/n,” Kaibara states, and you raise your eyebrows inviting him to continue. “I met you years ago, and you’re… incredible. Your energy is intoxicating as is your smile.” Kaibara smiles as he kisses the back of your hand. “I love the way you hate Tuesday mornings, I love that you always jump onto your bed, you do not have to, but you do. You complete me, you make me want to be a better person, and I have only one thing to ask…”

Your eyes sparkle with unshed tears, and Kaibara presses up and kneels before you.

“Will you marry me, y/n? Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

A black velvet box presents itself on his palm. A luminescent diamond ring shining against the light surrounded by primroses, the flower you said represented your love with him. Your tears shedding uncontrollably from your eyes while you grin like a fool.

Your head nods over and over.

“Yes!” You cry as you pepper wet kisses all over his face. “Yes, please! Yes!”

The diamond ring slips onto your finger, and you can’t even begin to describe your emotions as you kiss him. The cheering of the crowds disappearing as you hold him even closer.

He asked you for your hand that night, and yet you felt united in a whole other way. The overwhelming love between the two of you palatable the entire night.

~

You struggle against the wall, gasping as the villain holds you by your throat. You had foiled his next plan and were now paying dearly for it. 

You slam your foot into his crotch, and he grunts, letting you go. You collapse to the ground gasping for air. You stagger but act quickly, sweeping his feet out from underneath him. He falls to the ground, and you shoot energy from your hands, allowing you to smoothly and rapidly hop on top of him. You press your knees into his arms, and he hisses.

His legs sweep up, kicking you forward, and you tumble off of him.

So the two of you embark on another dangerous dance of yours. Fukuda screams in your ear about the dangers lurking around you if you don’t get out of there! But you had landed a hit, you were going to get him today!

You duck under a punch and shove a palm to his ribcage. He stumbles backward, you narrow your eyebrows as you lock an energy strand around his leg, pulling him in. You race over, but you miss the whirring of his skin. You’re blown backward, white-hot pain scorching your cheek, the mask on your face cracking in two. You gasp for air, the mask breaking completing as it falls to the ground. You couldn’t hear Fukuda yelling at you anymore as knees slam into your chest, and you wheeze.

Your eyes lock onto the villain before you. His arm cocked back for another devastating punch, but he’s frozen. His body is still. You don’t feel your energy power up, only that your arm is thrust up, and he’s thrown off you. A sickening crash is heard, and you sit up wheezing. 

You stare at the man, your vision dizzy, and you feel sick.

Not because you’re dizzy, but because of the face that’s revealed as his mask falls.

Kaibara.

His eyes are so vast, and your eyes are tearing up.

He can’t stand up, and you stumble to your feet, swaying where you stand.

“Get the fuck out of there, y/n!” Fukuda’s voice is yelling at you, and you flinch, finally hearing it. 

“Sen…” You whisper, your head shaking in disbelief. “You can’t be… how are you, Spinner?”

The villain’s name. The name you loathe, the name you refuse to use. You prefer ‘villain’ because giving him a name gives him an identity. A reason for him to be committing the atrocities he’s committed.

How was this man in front of you the person you loved with all your heart? 

You can’t remember running away. You only remember that you’re back in your house sobbing as you stare at the diamond ring on your nightstand.

~

You stare at the ceiling of your room. You feel hollow. 

Since that fateful encounter, neither one of you has attempted to reach out. Neither one of you calling, texting, or showing up. You hated it, but you couldn’t stand seeing him here. How could you ever talk to the man you love knowing who he was? What he was; what he is?

You knew everyone had secrets, but why was his secret this, anything but this…

The engagement ring is on your finger still. It makes perfect sense, everything tells you that it should be there. But it feels heavy… it weighs you down in more ways than its weight. Could you really forgive a man like him? Yes, he’s your Kaibara, but he’s also Spinner.

Notorious as the underground crime king. Spinner was someone you’ve been fighting since day one. It made you nauseous, just thinking about how that man was your Kaibara. 

How were they the same person?

The floorboards in your hallway creak, and you slam up. Your eyes concentrating on the doorframe. Your mouth runs dry as you stare at angry black eyes. His mouth pressed into a flat line as his hands roughly weave through his hair. 

It hurts knowing that it wasn’t a hoax. You knew Kaibara Kaibara like the back of your hand, and being able to read him now burned your throat and heart. You lick your lips as he steps closer, his eyes focused on you. 

“You’re Silence?”

“You’re Spinner…”

Kaibara shakes his head, his lips barking with cold humor as he can’t believe it. To be fair, you can’t either as you stare at his conflicted features. 

“I don’t understand?” he admits, his eyes swimming with confusion, anger, and yet longing. 

“You and me both,” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head as you look up at him. “Care to explain?”

“I don’t really want to.” Kaibara shakes his head, his smile sad, and you blink. 

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” you snap, your brows furrowing when you stalk over to Kaibara, who held his ground. “You’re the one causing all this mayhem, and you’re not going to even explain it to me?!”

“What’s the point, y/n? So that you can cry the next time we meet? You’re not going to give me mercy! You don’t understand! So why should I bother?!” Kaibara’s face clouded, angry, and focused. 

“Because you fucking love me!” you hiss, shoving Kaibara with your full strength. This entire time you’ve been able to pull off using mere fractions of your power. Enough to fight with Kaibara, but definitely not enough to send him stumbling backward. 

Kaibara’s black eyes snap on you as he gathers his balance. “Don’t do this.”

“I am a hero!” you tremble, your hands pulling at the roots of your hair. Your heart is racing in the worst of ways. You feel faint, ready to fall over, and never wake back up. “I save people nearly every damn day, Kaibara! I save people from you!”

There’s a glower on his face, and you know it’s because you’re putting Kaibara on a fence he doesn’t want to be. A wall that he hates. Kaibara always had something to say, he wasn’t one to pretend to not have an opinion, and so this was killing him.

“Some people in this world deserve to have checks,” Kaibara states, his steely voice calm, his eyes raging. “I don’t do anything to people who don’t deserve it.”

Your nostrils flare, and you can feel your throat thick with emotions. What the actual fuck was he on? “Really? Do these people deserve to die? People fucking deserve to get their life blown to shreds because of what? Because you think they’re corrupt? Oh, grow the fuck up, Kaibara! No, I don’t believe your bullcrap! Do you think I really haven’t tried finding correlations? Correlations for every single crime you committed? Yes, these people are terrible! But that’s why we have other ways of stopping them! You can’t play fucking god and decide whether these people deserve to live or not! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

You’re pressed flat against his chest. Your chest heaving with lack of air and overwhelming emotions. Kaibara’s face contorted with anger. His black eyes flashing before sinking into blackness. 

Then you say words you wish you could regret, words that broke your heart as you said it.

“How can you expect me to love someone like you?”

He left your shared place after that. The year ended, and there was nothing to stop the tragic downfall of both Spinner and Silence, both of you never recovered from this moment.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ v ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“Kaibara, is that you?!”

Your eyes looked at the brown-haired man walking into the hero agency where you were currently a sidekick in. 

It had been two years since graduating from UA, and you were here with Miruko, a signing that had honestly shocked many, many people when it happened. Sure enough, as an alumnus of UA and being a part of his rival classroom 1-A, it was a pleasant surprise to see someone outside of your classmates.

“Y/l/n?” he greeted you in return, his hands resting on his hips, his body completely decked out in his uniform. You guessed he started his day before you.

“It’s been so long!” you grin, stopping at his side with your hands clutched by your thighs, “How can I help you today?”

“Well, I need some help. I’m here to recruit you to help with Gang Orca’s mission.”

You watched him hand you a folder and immediately upon reading it understood why he was here for you. This was a job that was perfect with your quirk.

“I can help out,” you say after reading the file, a smile on your face. “Will you be there?”

“I am his sidekick, plus I gathered most of the evidence,” Kaibara shrugged, and you nodded.

“Okay, sounds good, Spiral.”

Kaibara smiled, his eyebrow lifted while he walked away. “Good, see you then.”

You and Kaibara always got along, maybe it was because both of you were the only people in UA who were on their fifth reincarnation cycle, but knowing you weren’t alone was always nice. He was still kind to you, even if he seemed bland at times, but you came to see that it was just… him. Regardless he was a formidable foe and a strong hero. Your only regret was not getting as close to him as you could have since the rivalry between the two classes never lessened.

The team-up mission went smoothly. The extraction of the hostages on top of capturing the brass of the cult, and stopping their influence on victims of their power was an excellent boost to your reputation and Miruko’s agency. Still, you had suffered minor injuries and had an EMT checking you out this very moment.

Your eyes fell on Kaibara, who was a few strides away. He had a nasty looking bruise on his jaw, a punch he had taken for you during your lack of attention. Signaling that you were fine now, the EMT let you go, and you walked over to Kaibara, your guilt looming heavy in your stance.

“Sorry for getting you hurt,” you apologized, your finger looming over the spot where he got hit on your own skin.

“No problem,” he brushed it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “You didn’t see it, plus you still got it handled in the end, which was much more important.”

“Yeah, but now I feel like I owe you drinks or something,” you huff, not at all pleased with how he was okay with this.

A silence fell over you two, the EMT avoiding eye contact as if this was like avoiding the plague. But with your vision glued to your feet, you didn’t catch the way that his eyebrows bunched and relaxed over and over in thought until finally, he spoke.

“I could go for drinks.” 

And so this night where you and Kaibara found yourselves at a bar with drinks in hands, did you realize that you wanted to actually get to know him. You didn’t want to associate Kaibara as the other fifth reincarnation cycle guy, or the guy from class 1-B, you wanted to know him for… him. 

It turned out, he felt the same way. 

Thus began a strange but quaint relationship between the two of you.

Kaibara ended up being a personality you enjoyed to be around a lot. He often danced between being a straight face and serious, to chaotic and enthusiastic, to sometimes straight-up aggressive and demanding. The fluctuation often amuses you, three different branches to his personality, much like the three spirals on his gloves. 

“I don’t think I’m ridiculous,” you point out, your finger following Kaibara’s walking form as he was grabbing the two of you drinks from his fridge. “I get that most people give up at this point, but I really do think I’ll meet my soulmate this time about!”

Kaibara looked at you incredulously when he sat next to you, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbow so you could see the Roman numeral for five tattoo on his wrist. “What makes this lifetime so special? Besides, we know that soulmates always meet in every reincarnation. If you and your soulmate haven’t clicked since the first cycle, what’s the point in fighting so hard at this cycle?” A frown overcomes your face, and you glare at Kaibara, who struggles to uphold a serious reaction. “I’m sorry, too far?”

“Shut up.”

His laughter fills the room while you turn away from him pouting. 

“So you don’t want to meet your soulmate?” you asked, trying your hardest to not sound too nosey but just the perfect amount of curiosity. 

“I’d love to meet my soulmate, don’t get it wrong,” Kaibara sighs, his back falling onto the back of the couch, his head tilting up to the ceiling. “But it’s… weird to keep my hopes up. With no memories of past reincarnations, it seems like I’m stumbling around in the dark.”

You hummed, your fingers bringing the drink to your mouth and taking a small sip from it.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” you asked when you brought your cup down.

Kaibara looked at you, his eyes like the void, daunting dark yet beautiful, “Why?”

“Well, if this is going to be my last reincarnation, I don’t want to live a life of regrets,” you smile, your head tilting to the side. “I would always regret not asking you out.”

His face melted into one of softness and undeniable excitement at your practical confession, “As long as you think your class could handle you dating someone from class 1-B.”

“I think that’s more of a question of if your class can handle you dating someone from class 1-A!”

So the two of you began to date.

It took no time for you to fall inexplicably and wholly in love with Kaibara Sen; he was perfect for you. Day and night he was someone you could entirely rely on, never once would he slip up, always coming to aid you when you needed it and vice versa. There were still hard nights, after all, you were still human. 

But rain or shine, momentous fight or sweet staples of your relationship, the both of you always ended up in the same bed, holding each other close as night consumed you. 

Before you knew it, it was New Year's Eve, and instead of going out tonight, you and Kaibara decided to stay in. A feeble nervous attempt in the hope that the two of you genuinely were soulmates. Five reincarnations later, and now you would finally find out if he was made for you if you were made for him.

“I want to give these to you,” Kaibara spoke to you when you came to the couch, a hefty blanket in your arms that you planned on drawing the both of you in while you watched the fireworks display on a TV monitor. Today was your first day off in a while, and because the crime rate was notoriously low on this holiday, staying home together sounded better than a clashed reunion of your high school classmates.

Your eyes found the small bouquet of primroses in his hands, the pink and white flowers sitting charmingly in their tan paper. A smile spread across your face immediately, and you brought your lips to him in a chaste kiss.

“They’re beautiful, thank you,” you happily sigh, moving to sit at his side, snuggled comfortably against him with the blanket over both of you. “What do they mean?”

“I can’t live without you,” Kaibara whispered, his eyes locking against yours.

And with warm cheeks, you smiled earnestly and connected your lips against his. 

The bouquet went forgotten as the two of you continued your passionate kiss, the words of ‘I love you’ continuing to pour from your lips well past midnight. Hope and endearment fully saturated between your hopeful mouth.

And alas, my dearest reader, I’m glad to tell you that at last, you found the one meant for you.

Primroses graced each of your lives with Kaibara Sen; after all, they were the flower of love, a flower that also meant that you couldn’t live without the other — a real sign of soulmate love through reincarnation. And my sweet reader, the moment your lips removed from Kaibaras as the stroke of midnight passed, the words of love exchanged between the two of you with complete honesty, you’ll be pleased to know that the tattoo turned to gold.

#kaibara x reader #kaibara sen x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[stillebesat]

Catch Me (If You Can) -part 3

December Drabbles Day 23 Sanders Shorts: Remy Sanders Sides: Logan, Roman, Janus Blurb: Remy would not allow himself to be seen as needy and helpless in front of the general masses. He had an image to uphold. One of perfect health, snarky comebacks, and general sassiness. He didn’t get sick. Fic Type: Sick!Fic, Guardian!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Sickness, Fainting, Mentions of Religion Taglist in reblog.

To Catch Up: Part 1  Part 2  

The scraping of a chair somewhere nearby was what drew Remy out the warm embrace of unconsciousness. He stirred, eyelids fluttering as an unfamiliar voice spoke.

“I didn’t think Lo was allowed to bring his science experiments home.” 

There was a soft exhale, the sound of paper rustling as a book was closed. “He was a customer, Janus. I didn’t create him, he fainted down below and I brought him up here.” 

That voice. 

Remy frowned, turning his head, a damp cloth slipping down to rest by his nose as he strained to hear. To remember.

How did he know that wonderful cadentic voice? 

“Ha!” 

Remy flinched at the unexpected laugh, eyes flashing open as he pushed himself upright, his arm trembling from the movement, the blanket covering him falling to his waist. Where? He looked around, pausing as he found a bowl of soup with steam still rising from it on the coffee table near him with a tall clear glass of what could only be water right next to it. 

He grimaced, throat feeling like burning sandpaper as he swung his feet to the carpet so he could reach the glass. Still cold. How had---He shook his head, raising the glass to his dry lips. The relief to his throat was instantaneous. 

Wherever he’d ended up it definitely hadn’t been to a party. That sort of hangover felt much different than this.

“Oh, he fainted alright!” The louder voice--Red...why did it make him think of Red? continued as Remy lowered the glass back to the table. “Right into your arms like a damsel in distress. It was a wonderful sight to behold, Specs.” 

Specs. An ugly nickname. It wasn’t right for--for? Remy twisted, searching the empty living room as he staggered to his feet, hissing softly as his vision tunneled. Wherever he was he needed to leave. Now! Before his image was ruined--before he--

He already had. 

Remy froze, memory rushing back as a long suffering sigh, like an angelic chorus sounded from what could only be the kitchen. “It didn’t happen like that, Roman.”

His Angel. 

“Soo...you kidnapped him from the Cafe.” Janus stated. 

His Angel...also now known as this ‘Lo’ groaned as a thunk sounded on a wooden surface. “I. Did. Not.” came the muffled retort. “He’s not a prisoner.” 

“Reeeeally~?” Red--Roman? Clicked his tongue. “Didn’t the guy try to leave before you stopped him?”

Oh yes. He distinctly remembered that. Remy glanced to his wrists, before frowning down at his socked feet and the shoes neatly lined up nearby. But...if he was a prisoner--his captor--his Angel was doing a bad job of it. Leaving him untied and unsupervised and free to leave whenever.

Like now.

Scooping up his shoes, Remy tiptoed for the door, ignoring how the floor seemed to sway under his feet. 

“If he tried to leave, Then pray tell me, Lo. Why is he still here?” The one called Janus demanded. “If it had been any other human you’d have called an ambulance and washed your lily white wings of them.” 

Remy paused, hand on the door knob to freedom. Wings? Wait. Hadn’t---hadn’t this Lo mentioned something about--about---being his--

Guardian. 

He licked his chapped lips, turning to look at the other doorway where the other three were hidden from view, blood pounding in his ears. 

Angels weren’t real.

And if they were--they certainly couldn’t be working in a quaint grandma cafe! Shouldn’t they be off like---bringing messages of peace and saving the world from global warming or something? 

There was a rumble, barely audible to Remy’s ears.

“Take two, Lomageddon. We didn’t hear that.” Roman said. 

There was another soft thunk. “I said. He called me.”

Come again?

There was a scoff from the kitchen. “I thought you were...what is that lovely phrase? “Taking a Break? Having a little Self Care time from your Guardian responsibilities?”

“Oh you’re one to talk.” Lo hissed. “Neither of you would exactly be here either if you had followed guidelines!” 

Remy let out a slow breath as he slowly placed his shoes back on the ground, cursing under his breath as curiosity got the better of him. Were--were these guys--actually claiming to be angels? 

He had to see it to believe it.

On silent feet, he crept forward to the entryway of what he guessed was the kitchen.

“He’s--well he’s gotta point Deecepticon.” Roman remarked, his tone slightly more subdued.

Janus scoffed and Remy could practically feel this unknown third guy rolling his eyes. “Please. Neither one of us are exactly Class A examples like Lo here is for following the rules. And you, Roman,” He crooned the name. “Have been worth every single broken rule in the book.” 

Remy peered around the corner in time to see Red blush full scarlet as the mysterious third guy, Janus, reached out his gloved hands holding tight to Roman’s as a slight glowing haze like a mirage in the desert shimmered around them. 

He squinted, struggling to focus on what he was seeing. It almost--it almost looked like there were...wings. Remy rolled his shoulders in response, glancing to the third party member who had his head buried in his arms.

His Angel. 

His Angel who also had that odd...shimmer….Remy’s heart skipped a beat as Lo shifted like he was gonna raise his head and abruptly pulled back out of sight, hissing under his breath as his vision blurred.

Nope nope nope.

He scrubbed at his eyes as he stumbled--darted--over to his shoes, scooping them up as he rushed to the front door. He could figure out exactly what he’d just seen and heard later when his head didn’t feel like it was stuffed full of cotton. Where he wasn’t feeling like he’d been run over by a truck. Where he--

“Remy?”

He shivered at the cadentic tone of his Angel rang in his ears, hand freezing on the door knob leading to his freedom. “Don’t.” He said, refusing to turn around, glad that for once his voice cooperated. He didn’t want a repeat of earli--yesterday--what time was it?! Regardless. He needed to get out of here. 

“Oh. He is stubborn.” Janus remarked from somewhere behind. “Didn’t you say--”

“He did say.” Red--Roman chuckled. “Out for the next twelve hours, Lo, and what? It’s been maybe four?” 

The hairs on the back of Remy’s neck rose. Lo had tried to keep him asleep for twelve hours?! HOW--No. No. Leave. Leave this audience that regrettably already knew he was...sick. But if he could just--He jerked at the door, growling under his breath when it refused to open. Could his Angel actually stop doors from working?! It was--

A soft sigh sounded as a hand reached around him to unlock the deadbolt.

Oh. Right. Locks exist. 

“You should be resting more you know. Your fever’s hardly gone down.” 

Remy flinched, grip tightening on his shoes. He knew that. He could feel how bad he felt. He just--

“But if you stay away from 32nd street, you should make it home without issue.” 

Wait. “What?” How did he know that?! Remy frowned, finding himself turning to look into the shining sapphires of his Angel’s eyes before he could stop himself. “You’re actually letting me leave this time? Not gonna stop me?” 

Could it really be so easy? Wasn’t he going to use his fellow cohorts hovering by the kitchen to subdue him again? Make him fall asleep? 

Lo raised an eyebrow, holding out Remy’s sunglasses in his other hand. “Do you want me to, Remy?” 

“No.” He snatched his sunglasses back, relaxing a little as he slipped them over his eyes. “Didn’t the first time either, Sugarbee, and that turned out with me laid out like one of your French girls on your couch.” 

Roman snorted, crossing his arms. “Hardly, he did keep your clothes on.” 

Not. The. Point. 

“Ignore him.” His Angel said, shooting the other two a look. 

Gladly. He pulled open the door, quickly slipping out into the hallway. “Avoid 32nd street you say--” He cut off, and whirled back to Lo, ignoring how his vision swam a bit too much after that little maneuver, favoring jabbing a finger in the general direction of his Angel instead. “How do you know where I live!” He demanded. “Or even my name?!” He didn’t remember telling his angel who he was, but that was the second time he’d used it since he’d woken up.

Another scoff sounded from inside the apartment.

Lo blinked, raising an eyebrow as he held out a steaming to-go cup of soup out to Remy. 

When had he grabbed that? His Angel had only been holding his sunglasses--of course. It was probably some sort of divine angely magic. 

Or it was like the deadbolt and he just hadn’t noticed--GAH. This was too confusing on a feverish mind.

Not that he was feverish--or sick. No, he was fine. 

Until he found out what the Socials were saying about him freaking fainting in public when he got home that is. But he could pretend for now.

“I know from your driver’s license.” Lo said, with a shrug. “I checked it when you...fainted.” 

Oh that made sense--wait. Remy scoffed, ignoring the burning in his throat and the grumbling of his stomach as he took another step back away from his Angel and the soup in his hand. “Does that excuse actually work?”  

The smile was faint, barely a twitch of his lips. “Most of the time.”

“Seriously? In a college town? Where practically everyone is from out of state?” 

Lo chuckled, a low sound that sent Remy’s heart racing as his Angel leaned against the door frame in an obvious attempt to appear casual even though Remy could see the tension in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes. “Most people don’t ask how I know, actually.” 

Oh. Well all things considered, the license excuse was believable. Just not for him.

“And you’re letting me leave now. Just like that?” He said, taking a couple more steps backwards down the hallway to prove his point.

A muscle in his Angel’s jaw twitched. 

Remy smirked, hoping Lo couldn’t hear how hard his heart was pounding. “You don’t want me to leave.”

“You are visibly unwell, Remy.” He said softly, crossing his arms. “I would prefer you stay here until you are better.” His bright eyes seemed to stare straight through his sunglasses and right down into the depths of Remy’s soul like he actually cared about his well being.

Ha. 

Nope. No more Jedi mind tricks here. Remy shook his head, forcing himself to turn fully away, ignoring the prickling sensation of his Angel’s eyes on his back. “Thanks. But No.” He called over his shoulder as he made a beeline for the nearest exit before his Angel could say one word more to convince him otherwise. 

He’d be fine.

To Be Continued. 

#Catch Me (If You Can) #December Drabbles #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Remy #Logan #Roman #Janus #Sleep #Logic #Creativity #Deceit #Guardian!Logan #Sick!Fic #Sick!Remy #Guardian!AU #December Day 23 #sickness tw #mentions of captivity tw

[max-is-tired]

bad things happen request: A1 + roceit? -ren

Remember me (for centuries)

Pairing: the AU is queerplatonic Roceit and romantic Analogicality, but the ships are not very prominent in this installment

Characters: Roman Sanders, Janus Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders

Words: 3.835

Warnings: superhero AU, implied morally grey Janus, Remus and Roman, superpowers, swearing, a muzzle is used, fighting, there’s a character (OC) that has very black and white views and definitely goes too far because of it, if I need to add anything else please tell me

Notes: guess who’s back babey!!!!! After two months of writer block, I’ve managed to churn out this little monster in less than 3 days and I’m honestly lowkey real proud of it sjkcndjkscn it’s inspired by this idea I had the other day and after I remembered this specific prompt I just went full feral writer mode. I even have a few ideas for a sequel, so there’s that I guess!!

First fic for the @badthingshappenbingo!! The red squares are prompts that have already been requested, feel free to send more in though!! I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get to them but hopefully you won’t have to wait too long. Hope you guys like the fic!!!

Commission me!!  Buy me a coffee!! Join my Discord server!!  AO3!!

Once upon a time, there was a King.

He was as regal as he was mysterious, powers so strong he might as well have been able to make literal mountains kneel before him. Everyone knew of him, from the filthiest criminal to the richest man. He saw everything, heard everything, nothing and no one could escape his power. He was the judge and the executioner, protected the city in the way he saw most fit with the Puppeteer and the Duke standing at his sides.

The government called him dangerous. The people secretly called him a hero.

Once upon a time, there was a King. Until one day, he was no more -exactly how Roman had wanted it to be.

+++

Parting ways with Janus and Remus hadn't been easy. They'd been at his side since the very beginning, from the first appearance of his power to his decision to do whatever it took to protect those who couldn't.

"I'm always down to fight the government," Janus had said with a smirk, easily slipping into his Puppeteer alter ego as Remus simply swung his morning star around with a feral grin.

In the end, though, the King had had to go, and even then those two had supported his decision. What Roman had done to deserve his brother and his partner, he still had to understand. And besides, it wasn't as if he had had to cut them out of his life or anything! They still hung out lots during the day, either at the twin's apartment or at Janus' penthouse (being the only heir to a very rich family could have its perks, he supposed).

But at the end of the day, when the sun left the sky and the cover of the night fell over the city, it was the Puppeteer and the Duke who patrolled along the dirty rooftops, taking on those crimes Lady Justice seemed to overlook -Roman was nothing but a college student now and could only watch from afar, some part of him stubbornly longing for days that had since come to an end.

Or at least, that had been the plan. Then, well, Patton had happened.

They had met during a Psychology class they were both taking -for Patton, it was for his major, while Roman was just there for the credit. They had hit it off almost immediately, the both of them bonding over the pain that were morning classes and bemoaning how much money they were probably going to spend at the local coffee shop in order to survive the semester.

As much as he prided himself of being way smarter than people gave him credit for, Roman couldn't say he had figured his classmate's secret identity out immediately. It had taken him a few weeks and even then, he had needed Janus' help for his brain to click the dots into place.

Well, actually, it had been thanks to the recordings of one of the Puppeteer and the Duke's patrol sessions, during which the two had managed to stumble upon the new ragtag trio of superheroes, Storm, Heart and Logic, taking care of a small robbery downtown.

Janus and Roman had been analyzing the video, with Remus unhelpfully chucking pieces of popcorn at the back of their heads, when video-Heart had thrown his head back and laughed, grinning from ear to ear as Logic seemed to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Roman had frozen, the laugh ringing clear as day in his head as the last piece of a puzzle he hadn't known had been there slid into place -he knew that laugh, heard it every Tuesday and Friday morning before class as he sipped at his coffee and watched Patton try to fit as many puns as he could into a single sentence.

Patton was Heart. His friend was a superhero. Well, shit.

So yeah, Roman had figured it out and immediately started panicking about the newfound information. Janus and Remus, of course, had found the entire thing hilarious, teasing him about having somehow managed to stumble upon and befriend a superhero without even knowing it.

In the end, though, what exactly could he do? Roman was only a college student, and it wasn't like Patton was doing this alone -he had Storm and Logic by his side, keeping him safe and watching his back. His friend would be fine.

Then, of course, in came Virgil and Logan, the infamous roommates Patton had wanted to introduce him to since day one. In less than an hour, Roman had managed to help Pat gently bully Virgil out of his binder for the night and start a debate with Logan about the scientific accuracy of Elsa's powers and just how theoretically powerful she could have become based on the abilities she had showed in the movies.

(Olaf's existence had sparked a whole other tangent about conscience and the existence of souls on a metaphysical level, but Roman was not going to think about it lest he ended up having another existential crisis).

The real plot twist had happened much later into the night, when Roman had woken up to frantic whispering and soft rustling coming from somewhere to his right. Still keeping his eyes shut, he'd managed to catch the words "robbery" and "be careful" before hearing one of the windows gently slide shut.

Making sure to not alert anyone about his eavesdropping, Roman had waited until all he could hear was steady, even breathing before quietly sitting up, eyes shining gold into the darkness for a second before spotting Logan and Patton's figures on the ground -as for Virgil, he seemed to be nowhere to be found, the apartment being completely silent beside the two sleeping soundly beside him.

Roman had a suspicion. A very nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that was probably going to bother him until he got to the bottom of his. So, in the morning, he'd said goodbye to his new friends and headed to Janus' place, pondering over alternative explanations on the way over. Not that it would have been of any use since Janus did confirm that a robbery had taken place the night before, and that it had been halted by no other than Storm himself.

So. Virgil was Storm. Which, by taking the most logical leap, meant Logan was no other than Logic. Cool cool cool. No doubt no doubt no doubt.

… There was no way Roman could sit back and watch, was it?

And so, Prince stepped into the light, flames dancing on his fingertips and on the blade of his katana -a gift from Janus, who had reacted to Roman's sheepish smile with an eyebrow raise- and a bright red sash crossing his chest.

Logan and the others had been rather welcoming to the new superhero amongst their group, if not a little skeptical about his motives -Roman could not quite tell them he was doing all of this to give them an additional layer of protection, since he knew from experience just how dangerous the superhero gig could be. They thought all he wanted was to protect the innocents like a knight in shining armor, and he just never bothered to correct them. It wasn't like that was a lie, anyway so he didn't really feel guilty about it.

… Okay, maybe he felt a little guilty about keeping his former identity a secret. So what? It wasn't like he could go to his new friends and say "Hey, remember that one dude that scared the shit out of everyone? Yeah, that was me, fun times am I right??". And besides, it wasn't like King was going to do a comeback anytime soon, if ever. Right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong.

+++

It had started as a normal night-time patrol around the outskirts of the city. Roman had been joking around with Virgil, jumping easily from rooftop to rooftop as they exchanged dry remarks and teasing nicknames with Logan and Patton watching on in amusement.

Then, suddenly, an explosion.

They'd all frozen, exchanging quick glances as a cloud of smoke started to rise into the distance. Without a word, the four had bolted, the easy atmosphere that had surrounded them up until that moment gone in an instant as they prepared themselves to deal with whatever was expecting them.

They reached the plaza in a few minutes, immediately setting out to assess the damage. Strangely enough, there didn't seem to be much out of order -there were no civilians around, the few that had been around at that time of the night having been probably startled away by the explosion -which had probably gone off at the center of the square, judging by the debris and fairly-sized hole. Though the cause of it didn't seem to be anywhere to be found.

At least, until an amused chuckle resounded from behind the four.

They turned around, ready for a fight, only to be met with a grinning Nautilus.

"Oh, how nice of you guys to drop in!" the hero chirped, his grin only widening even more -Roman did not like the crazy glint in the other's eyes, his hand moving to hover a little closer to the hilt of his sword as a bad feeling started to pool in the pit of his stomach.

"Hello, Nautilus!" Patton greeted, his smile now a little tense around the edges -Roman couldn't help but feel glad he wasn't alone in his distrust, not missing the way Logan and Virgil also seemed to be a little more on guard.

It wasn't like Nautilus was a villain or anything, at least not for the public opinion. He meant well, Roman knew that, but the way he viewed the world -black and white, good vs evil with no space for anything else in-between those extremes- was something Roman just couldn't trust, knowing all too well how such a way of thinking could very easily skew someone's morals way too close to ruthlessness and self-justified cruelty.

So yeah, Nautilus might have been a hero, but Roman wouldn't trust him with the life of the most innocent of kittens.

"Nautilus, do you know the cause of that explosion?" Logan spoke up, his expression unreadable.

"Oh, that was me, nothing to worry your pretty brain about my dear Logic," Nautilus responded, waving the concern away with way too much nonchalance for Roman's liking. "I was just taking care of some little pests, nothing to worry about."

"By making the fucking square blow up?" Virgil asked, scoffing.

The other simply shrugged, once again dismissing the remark. "Sometimes you gotta do some harsh things to get rid of a problem, don't you agree?"

Oh, Roman did not like that smile one bit.

"What do you mean?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice neutral as his grip on his sword tightened.

Still smiling, Nautilus snapped his fingers, a water tendril appearing from behind him. And in its grasp, a familiar figure uselessly struggled for freedom, brown eyes glaring daggers at the hero's back. Faintly, Roman could easily picture the snarl currently adorning the Puppeteer's lips.

Lips he could not see, because Janus' mouth was currently being covered by a muzzle.

"Pretty cool right?" Nautilus grinned, stepping onto another tendril to let himself be carried at Janus' level. "A friend of mine made it, perfect to stop our local charmer from using his nifty powers."

Ignoring the way the other heroes were staring at him in various stages of horror, he grabbed Janus' chin, tugging his face forward until they were barely inches apart.

"Not so cocky without that silver tongue of yours, uh?" he purred, before pushing him back. "It's high time you face the consequences of your evil doings, you slimy snake."

But the Puppeteer's eyes were no longer glaring at Nautilus. No, they were trained on Roman's form, on his clenched fists and the way his eyes kept flashing a familiar golden color.

"Well, look who's gone and fucked up!" a voice chirped from above, attracting everyone's attention to the top of one of the surrounding buildings. The Duke gave the heroes a toothy grin and waved, legs swinging into the air with his signature morning star resting idly on his shoulder.

"Ah, the Duke," Nautilus hummed, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, "I was wondering when you'd show up. Are you here to rescue your dear teammate? Please, do try, I'd love to bring down two villains in one day."

For the surprise of almost the entire square, the Duke let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back as his whole body shook with the force of his cackles.

"Oh, please! As if I'll need to do literally anything," he said, amusement lacing every word. "This is your funeral, dude. You really angered the wrong royal."

Nautilus frowned, opening his mouth to reply -probably to ask what in the world the other was talking about- but all that left his lips was a startled yelp, fighting to keep himself steady as the earth started to rumble and shake beneath his feet. Because of the sudden distraction, all the tendrils of water broke off, included the one holding the Puppeteer. Without missing a beat, Remus jumped down and grabbed Janus before he could pummel the ground, holding him bridal style while sporting his best shit-eating grin.

"Told ya!" he sing-sang, sending Nautilus a mocking glare. Not that the hero was looking at him, mind you. He was more focused on his fellow "hero" standing just a few feet to the center of the square, his eyes blazing golden.

"Duke," called Roman, his voice clear and authoritative as it carried all around the plaza, "get him out of that damned muzzle, would you?"

"Aye aye sir!!" Remus chirped, easily ripping the piece of metal away. "Do you think you could leave a few bones intact for me to break? I wanna have some fun too!"

"Sorry, Duke-" the other chuckled, the sound sounding almost haunting to everyone else's ears- "but I don't know if I’ll have enough self-control left to do that."

A circle of golden light appeared at Roman's feet, rising up in the air and enveloping his body as it went. And then it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind a vision no one had ever thought they'd see again.

Bright, golden eyes. Hair as dark as the night. The uniform of a royal, a burgundy sash crossing his chest from shoulder to hip. In his hand, a familiar sword glinted under the artificial light of the street lamps, the hilt the same golden as its owner's irises.

The Prince was gone, lost in a circle of golden light. And at his place stood a very angry-looking King.

"That- that can't be!" Nautilus exclaimed, taking a step back. "You're gone, you can't be here!"

"Can't I?" The King -Roman, the King was Roman- asked, cocking his head to the side. "Who are you to tell me where I can and cannot be, Nautilus?"

"I'm a hero!!" the other snapped, his words laced with the desperation of a man who is standing face to face with his impending doom. "I'm a hero, you rotten king, and I after tonight I will be remembered as the one who wiped you and your villainous reign out of this city!"

Roman hummed, looking absolutely unimpressed as he calmly inspected his sword.

"You call yourself the hero… and yet, you are the one using downright torture-like methods to try and squash down those who don't fit your narrow view of good. All the Duke and I did was rescue our companion form your grasp. So tell me, Nautilus -are you really sure I'm the one you should call "villain" here?"

The hero growled at those words, eyes flashing in barely contained rage as tendrils after tendrils of water rose up behind him. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for forgiveness at my feet."

"Oh honey," the King drawled, lips stretching into a feral grin, "at the end of this, I won't be the one begging for their life."

And off they went, crashing into each other in a whirlwind of water and metal.

Taken as they were with each other, the two supers barely spared a glance to the huddle of five people looking on from the side of the square.

"What the fuck." Storm whispered, staring shell-shocked at the scene in front of him. "What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-"

"I know, right?" the Duke exclaimed, completely ignoring the hero's obvious growing panic.

"Duke, play nice," the Puppeteer drawled, with the heat of someone who had had to deal with the other's antics for way too long to really care anymore.

"Storm, please take some deep breaths for me," Logic said, stepping into Virgil's line of sight. "Do you remember your breathing techniques, yes?"

Storm nodded, visibly trying to get his breathing under control to do just that. Heart, obviously worried, moved to sit beside him, resting one hand on his shoulder to tap a regular rhythm there.

Virgil looked up at him with a small, grateful smile, raising his own hand to cover Patton's before closing his eyes to focus on his breathing.

Once it was clear Storm's panic wasn't going to advance any further and risk affecting his powers, Janus let his eyes wander towards Logic's standing figure, the hero's gaze fixed on the ongoing fight.

"You don't seem too fazed with the revelation," the Puppeteer pointed out, arching an eyebrow. "I mean, it's not every day you find out your teammate is actually the very ex-vigilante that used to terrorize the city."

"If I remember correctly, the people targeted by the King's actions were almost all corrupt politicians and crooked cops," Logic pointed out, turning his head to look at the vigilante. "And besides, I already had my suspicions."

Janus couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle. "What was it that tipped you off?"

"Honestly, I started growing suspicious during the Prince's first day on the field," the hero shrugged, pushing his holographic glasses up his nose. "He looked way too familiar with fights involving supers to be a newbie. Add in the pseudo he chose, plus the somewhat similar outfit… once the doubts started creeping in, it was relatively easy to connect the dots."

"Roman," the Puppeteer piped up, "I know you guys know him outside of the mask, so we can use his name -all the royal pseudonyms can get real old real fast."

Logic gave the vigilante a long look before nodding, letting out a soft sigh. "I suppose that makes sense, since you all were allies prior to the King's disappearance. I suppose you won't be sharing the reason of that, by the way?"

Janus shook his head. "It isn't my story to tell -I'm a keeper of many secrets, Logic, and I'm not about to go divulge them without a valid reason to. If he wants to tell you, he will. In his own time."

"Normally, I would point out that we cannot be sure that Roman will even be able to tell us, since he's currently going against one of the heroes with most raw power," Logan pointed out, "but I have heard enough stories about the King's power to be fairly optimist about his odds in this fight."

Janus chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Case in point-" he said, gesturing back towards the square- "it looks like the winner has just become clear."

Just as he finished speaking, Nautilus came skidding on the pavement towards them, bruises and cuts covering his whole body as he struggled to get up again.

"Told you I wouldn't be the one praying for mercy on my knees, hero," the King drawled, his uniform looking barely crumpled by the fight.

"I will never bow to you, villain," Nautilus growled, fighting to keep himself upright.

Roman arched an eyebrow, an infuriatingly amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Are you sure about that? because you look just about to fall over."

"You may have defeated me, but soon the entire world will know the truth!" the hero shot back. "Their beloved Prince, hiding such a rotten secret… how do you think they will react? Every hero will not rest until you and your companions are locked shut behind bars. Your time is coming to an end, King, and I'll make sure to save myself a front-row seat for the day you'll finally be kicked down from your throne of evil."

"A very poetic imagery, I'm sure," the Puppeteer drawled from behind them, gathering everyone's attention on himself, "though I'm afraid you won't be able to reveal jack shit, you pompous asshole."

Nautilus frowned in confusion until he felt a slight tugging at his hand. Eyes widening, he snapped his head down, eyes zeroing on the yellow string wrapped loosely around his wrist.

"Sleep now, and forget," Janus ordered, eyes flashing bright yellow, and down Nautilus went, knocked out cold.

Silence fell, only interrupted by the faint sounds of sirens approaching from afar. After a few seconds, Heart went to open his mouth, hand outstretched towards the King's back, only for the vigilante to suddenly bolt without a single word and disappear into the night.

Janus and Remus exchanged a look, obviously debating something between themselves without using any words.

"Go," Logic called, catching their attention. "We won't tell, we promise."

The two vigilantes looked at the trio, watching as both Storm and Heart nodded in agreement. Then they smiled, saluted, and took off.

"Do you think Ro will come back?" Heart asked worriedly, eyes traveling from the direction the three had taken to the quickly-approaching blue and red lights in the distance.

"He better, or I'll go and find him myself," Storm muttered darkly, biting at his thumb.

"Only time will tell, there is no use in worrying about that now," Logic sighed, just as the first police car drove into the square. "For now, we better come up with a believable story. They'll want to know what exactly caused the square to blow up in the first place."

"Why lie?" Heart asked, giving his friend a small smile, "after all, Nautilus was the one who did it, wasn't he?"

Logic smirked lightly, nodding. " I suppose that is true."

"You know, sometimes I forget just how much of a little shit you can be," Storm commented, tone laced with amusement. "Then you go and pull things like this, and I get reminded all over again."

"Kiddo, language!" Heart gave an exaggerated gasped, eyes twinkling in mischief. "I just don't like lying, you know that."

Logic watched as the two snickering heroes approached the police, shaking his head with a small smile. Tonight might have raised quite a few questions, but he had no doubt the answers would come, eventually.

All in due time, he supposed.

+

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[vindicatedvirgil]

only fools rush in / part two: a botanical garden and deep conversations

hi there! this is part two of my college au, if you haven’t read part one you can click here to do so!

spotify playlist here

this chapter is centered around Remus and Patton, the other characters are very minimal here. so, don’t get mad about the lack of Virgil or Roman or anything (i miss them too, it’s okay).

read until the very end for a teaser and the title of part three!

TW: mentions of bad things happening to Roman during high school (no specifics... yet)

next update will be on Sunday, July 26.

---

“I don’t think that I can do this,” Remus was pacing in the living room, Virgil and Janus were sitting on the couch; they shared a look, and both of them rolled their eyes. “I mean, he’s so soft, and so cute, and he’s Roman’s roommate!” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “What if I mess this up and Roman gets hurt or Patton gets hurt, fuck fuck fuck!”

“Remus,” Janus started, his voice flat. “I don’t think that you’re going to fuck this up. Patton’s not like the other guys you’ve dated, he’s special, and I think you know that.” Remus groaned, glancing out the window. It was so late on Friday night that it had bled into Saturday, and he had been panicking for the majority of the night, which frustrated the other two who were trying to watch a movie. Eventually the TV had been shut off and their attention focused on their friend, who grew more disheveled as the night wore on.

“He’s right,” Virgil said quietly. “In the time we’ve known you, which is what, like, three years or something? Every person you’ve dated has been a total asshole. Kind of like you, but… worse,” Remus whined, and Virgil just shook his head. “That was a compliment, idiot.”

“I think what our emo friend is trying to say is that Patton isn’t like those other guys you’ve dated,” Janus continued, giving a dirty look to Virgil. “I’ve never seen you so panicked over a first date, so I think that means that this is… real for you. You’re going to take this one seriously.” Remus sighed then moved to lay on his back on the floor, eyes fluttering shut.

"Do I dress nice for my date? Or do I look the same as usual?”

-

“I don’t think I can do this,” Patton was laying down, his head hanging off of the foot of his bed. Roman was sitting cross-legged on the floor and Logan was sitting on the desk chair, a yawn escaping as he rubbed his eyes. “What if I’m not what he wants me to be?” He hugged his stuffed animal frog closer to his chest. “What if it turns out that he doesn’t actually like me?”

“Ugh, I told you, Patton, he’s never acted this way around anybody, at least not that I’ve seen,” Roman said, annoyance coming through in his tone of voice. He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to make sure that Patton went on the date with Remus, but he did want to see his friend happy; and, as much as he hated it, he’d like to see his brother be happy, too. “He always dates these jerks who sell drugs or wear all leather and ride motorcycles. They treat him like trash and then throw him out onto the streets when they’re done.”

“Well, that doesn’t help!” Patton whined, curling up into a ball. “What if he wants me to be something that I’m not? Do you think he only wants to go out with me because I’m so different from the others he’s dated? How many people has he actually dated?” Patton’s tone was growing more high-pitched with every question. Logan adjusted his glasses, sighing.

“Patton, these are all illogical questions,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve spent a little bit of time with Remus since he tends to be around when I’m with Janus, and I do not think that he would ask you to be his metaphorical crutch to figure out if he wants a softer partner. Additionally, why does it matter how many people he has dated?” Logan’s question was pointed, “What should matter is how you portray yourself to him on your date tomorrow so he sees the kind of person that you are. You want him to see the real you, right? Then that’s what you need to do.”

“But what if he doesn’t like the real me?” Patton asked. Of course Logan knew Patton’s intricacies, they’d been friends for so long, but the small man was always unsure if his overly logical friend meant it when he said they were best friends or if he was Patton’s friend out of convenience or just… circumstance.

“Why wouldn’t anyone like the real you, Pat? You’re awesome! And if he doesn’t see that I can knock some sense into him, lord knows I had to do that enough as a kid,” Roman scoffed, stretching his arms out. “I think that the more important question is… what are you going to wear tomorrow?”

-

Patton was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Standing near the entrance to the botanical gardens, he tried to stand on the tips of his toes to see if Remus was walking towards him, but he hadn’t yet caught sight of the biomed major. Patton had, of course, arrived half an hour earlier than they had agreed upon, but he thought that maybe Remus would show up early, too.

He hadn’t, but Patton didn’t mind. He kept fidgeting with the sleeves on his jean jacket and hoped it wouldn’t get too warm; he was wearing a floral shorts romper underneath but hated carrying around his jacket when it got hot out. As he continued to wait, he dug through his messenger bag, hoping Remus wouldn’t judge him for his polaroid camera. Patton loved taking photos with it; he hung all of them with clothespins on his fairy lights in his bedroom, so he was always surrounded by the people and things that he loved.

As he was leaning down to pull his knee-high socks back up since they were drooping, he heard some familiar footsteps. He looked up and saw Remus, dressed in his usual attire, smiling down at him. “Hey there, little flower,” Remus cooed, and Patton turned red immediately, returning the smile. 

“Hi, Remus!” His voice came out a little more high-pitched than usual, but he was just so darn excited to see Remus. He wasn’t sure if he should hug the taller man, and hesitated for a moment. Remus gave him an intrigued look, and then Patton flung himself into his arms gently. Remus wrapped his arms around him softly, humming happily. “You’re softer than I expected.”

“Oh? Well, I can get hard if you’d like,” Remus teased, making Patton blush harder. The small man backed up, looking at Remus’ face and realizing it was a joke, so he smiled sheepishly. “So, have you ever been to this botanical garden before?”

“No, I didn’t even know it existed!” Patton responded, the two turning towards the entrance. It was a free walk-through, so they walked in, and noticed how few people were in attendance. Patton was surprised at how few people were there on a Saturday afternoon. He had so many questions for the other man, he wanted to talk about so many things, but never knew how to start conversations like that.

“How did you meet Roman?” Remus broke the silence as the two rounded a corner into an area filled with rose bushes. He leaned down to smell one of them and Patton did the same, smiling as he stood back up.

“We were in a general education class together last year. I think it was our public speaking class. And we were put together in a group,” Patton explained, walking close to Remus. “I was kind of pushy and we became friends since we have a lot in common. And then I introduced him to Logan, who I’ve known since elementary school!” Remus nodded, looking down.

“You have a lot in common with him, but…” his voice trailed off and he leaned against one of the fences, looking into the koi pond below. “Roman and I are very different. So… you and I might not have a lot in common, little flower.” Patton frowned, standing next to him.

“Roman’s not exactly my type, Remus. Yes, he’s become one of my best friends, but…” Patton paused, thinking of the right way to phrase what he wanted to say. “He’s loud, and animated, and theatrical and… it’s not what I would want in someone that I date.”

“And what is it that you want in someone you date, Patton?” Remus tilted his head, looking at Patton very carefully. The small man’s face contorted in deep thought, and he bit his lips, looking down.

“I… well, someone who is going to expose me to new adventures. I might look soft, Remus, but… I love doing things that make my heart beat fast,” he paused again so Remus could absorb this information. “I want someone who understands how special I can be… but also someone who I can pamper and love with all of my heart.” Remus didn’t say anything, and the two continued their walk through the gardens. Patton stopped him in front of a blooming tree and told him to pose, taking out his polaroid camera.

“Patton, I–”

“Please?” Patton asked, eyes sparkling towards the other man. Remus sighed, then leaned against the tree, giving a small smile to Patton as he crossed his arms. Patton took the photo, then held it between two fingers as it developed. “I have a whole wall of photos in my bedroom. Lots from high school with Lo, but some more recent with Roman, too. And… I wanted to add you, too.” Remus looked down at his feet, smiling softly. The two kept walking after Patton put his camera back in his bag, and Remus brushed his fingers against those of the other. They let their fingers intertwine, and Patton hoped that his hand wasn’t too sweaty. “Can I ask you something?” Patton asked hesitantly. Remus nodded, and the two sat down on a bench, their fingers still intertwined. “Why did you ask me out on a date?”

“Oh. Um…” Remus chuckled awkwardly, running his spare hand through his hair, tousling it up a little bit. “I see something really… unique in you. You’re this puff of pastel, but you’ve got these amazing tattoos,” he expressed this by running his fingers along the exposed tattoos on Patton’s arm. “And… you’re so kind. Everything I’ve heard about you from Ro and Jan… I’d always wanted to meet you. But Ro… he’s protective.”

“Of you?” Patton asked, and Remus laughed, more heartily this time, and shook his head.

“No. He’s protective of his friends,” Remus answered, and a flash of sadness crossed his eyes. “He was always the golden child. Our parents, our teachers, they always… preferred him. He could do no wrong.” Patton frowned, but said nothing as Remus continued to recall these moments. “I was a bit of a reckless one. I couldn’t sit still, I just wanted to crack jokes, and I played these hilarious pranks on Roman and our other classmates.

“When we got to high school, I… went off the deep end. I was hanging around the wrong kind of crowd, you know? And… they hurt Ro. Badly.” Remus looked down at his feet, shame crossing his face. Patton took his hands gently, waiting for the story to finish. “We kind of… broke after that. He never looked at me the same. He hated me, and I did too. So… yeah. He always wants to protect his friends; that’s why you and I hadn’t met until a few weeks ago. I had to prove to him that I was hanging out with better people, that I had become a better person.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton’s voice came out weak, and he was struggling to keep the tears from leaving his eyes. Sometimes he hated how sensitive he could get. “I’m glad that you’re… better… now.”

“Me, too,” Remus still hadn’t looked up. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of birds chirping and the babbling brooks keeping it from being completely quiet around them. “Tell me about why you got your tattoos,” he said finally, fingers still tracing the outlines of sunflowers and daisies.

“My mom is a florist,” Patton responded. He was looking off into the distance at the flowers in front of them. “So, I grew up in our backyard full of flowers, and I spent my summers in high school helping run the shop. When I thought about getting my first tattoo, I knew it had to be flowers.” He pointed to the large sunflower on his wrist. “Once I started with this one, I couldn’t stop. The flowers are bright, and remind me of sunshine and taking care of others.”

“And… that’s why you’re a child development major, isn’t it?” Remus asked. His eyes were focused on the intricate vines connecting all of the tattoos.

“Yeah… my mom took care of me and her garden, and… I want to take care of others, too,” Patton was smiling, and Remus resisted the urge to kiss him right there. But he didn’t want things to move too quickly, and he wanted to make sure that he had Patton’s consent before doing anything like that, so he didn’t say anything, and just kept his eyes on the small man. “Why did you choose biomed and medieval history?” The question brought Remus out of his own mind, and he blinked a few times before registering it.

“Oh. Well… I always liked the dissection labs in my science classes. One of my teachers noticed and… told me about biomed. I’d love to research new treatments, figure out what works and what doesn’t work, work in a lab…” he trailed off, and Patton just watched him with awe. “The medieval history was actually inspired by Roman. He doesn’t know that, though. But… he did this play in high school that was set during the medieval ages, and it just… piqued my interest. So I kept researching, and I want to learn more. Maybe I can do research into the intersections of biomed and medieval history someday.”

“I love how passionate you are about the things you’re studying,” Patton mused, his fingers holding tighter to Remus’. “Like… Roman and Logan are passionate about their areas of study, too, but… in a way that’s almost exhausting. The way you talk about your path is…” Patton’s voice faded out, the words failing him. He wished that he could express his words more clearly, or in a way that sort of made sense, but he wasn’t the best with conversations, he never had been. 

“Should we continue our walk around here?” Remus said, breaking the silence again. He didn’t like the silence that kept coming back, but they had covered some really heavy topics, probably things that were too intense for a first date. He didn’t hate that they were talking about those things; he loved hearing what Patton had to say and how things were going, but… he wanted to do something to make his date laugh.

The two stood up from their spot on the bench and walked under an archway towards where there was a display of succulent plants. Remus wanted to hug and hold Patton so badly, but he resigned himself to just holding his hand, watching as Patton named each and every plant they passed as they kept going throughout the gardens.

They had eventually gone around in a full circle, most of their conversation lingering on the types of plants they saw around them, and had arrived back at the koi pond. Patton was leaning over the fence again, watching the colorful fish weave in and out of the way of each other. Remus stood next to him, watching, and when Patton looked up at him with that glimmer of adoration and just… hope. 

“Patton, I…” he looked down at his feet, his face heating up. “I would really, um… like to kiss you. I-If that’s okay. I just, I don’t want to mess things up and–” Remus was interrupted by two hands holding onto his face, and before he knew it, he was leaning down, and kissing the softest lips he had ever touched.

-

“Goodbye, Remus,” Patton said softly, leaning up to kiss Remus’ cheek. “I had a really nice time today.” He smiled, hand on the doorknob to the apartment, and Remus gave him one last, lingering kiss.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, little flower,” the taller man said, and then Patton entered the apartment, closing the door behind him. His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard for the last few hours, the feeling of Remus’ hand in his and his lips on his own ingrained in his mind. They went to a cafe after the botanical gardens and indulged in iced tea and sandwiches and pastries, laughing and smiling and always touching in some way, even if it was just their feet brushing against each other under the table.

Remus wasn’t anything like what Patton had expected. He was still surprised at the choice of date locations, but Remus’ softness and openness towards Patton was a welcome revelation. But Patton had meant it when he said that he had a good time; it was the best first date he had ever been on. And he wished desperately for more.

“Hey, how did it go?” Roman was lounging on the couch, a script in hand, and Logan was sitting at the kitchen counter, working on his laptop. Patton tried to hold back his blush, but he smiled at the other two. “My brother was good to you, right?” Roman’s face was etched with concern.

“It was… absolutely amazing, Ro,” Patton felt his emotions gushing out of him as he set his bag down next to the entrance table. He went over to sit on the couch at Roman’s feet, and the other two followed him with their eyes, waiting for more information. “Remus is so sweet to me. I… I really do like him.” Roman said nothing, instead he just flipped the page in his script, and Logan sighed from the table.

“Roman believes you need to know a few things about Remus’ past before you go further in your relationship. I, however, believe that it should be up to Remus to tell you,” he explained, adjusting his glasses. Patton’s smile instantly turned upside down, but he nodded.

“Remus did tell me. About his past. About what happened. And…” Patton sighed, twisting his fingers together. “I’m sorry that all of that happened, Ro, but… it doesn’t matter to me. Who he is now is who I want to be with.”

“So… you’re going to go out with him again?” Roman asked hesitantly, peeking over his script. Patton nodded, and couldn’t help the small smile that he felt resurface on his face. “Well, I… I’m glad you’re happy, Patton.”

-

Remus opened the door to the apartment quietly. Virgil was nowhere to be seen, but Janus was in the kitchen, standing over the stove, presumably making dinner. Remus tried to be quiet, tried to just head straight (gAy) for his room, but Janus cleared his throat. When Remus turned to look at him, he was raising an eyebrow, arms crossed, leaning against the archway that led into the kitchen.

“How did it go?” He asked, and Remus looked down, smiling brightly. How could he put into words how amazing the day was? How many butterflies he felt when he was next to Patton, how no one had ever made him feel that way before. Remus looked back up at Janus, realizing that he hadn’t said anything, and shrugged.

“It was…” he still couldn’t find the words, but a string of what he figured to be incoherent sentences began to spill out. “Oh, Jan, you have no idea. He’s so… and I just… it was… I really like him.” Janus nodded, a small smile settling on his face.

“I’ve never seen you act this way, Remus,” he mused. “I’m… glad to see you this way.” Remus smiled at him, then retreated to his room. He glanced at the mess that was always prevalent, setting his backpack down next to the desk.

From his back jeans pocket he took out one of the many polaroid pictures that Patton had taken that day, one of them trying to take a selfie with the camera, Remus’ lips pressed to Patton’s cheek, a goofy smile pasted on the smaller man’s face. He found himself staring at it for a while, then he took his phone out of the pocket and sent a quick text to Patton: want to come over tomorrow?

---

teaser for part three: a dance, some shoes, and an audition

“Sorry. I got, um, a little carried away,” he explained, rolling and twisting the script in his hands.

~

“Yeah, of course,” he said, returning the smile. “Wouldn’t want you falling head over heels now would we?”

---

part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten

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@winterrose42

@are-you-even–real

@shaded14space

@lallyphant

@deceits-left-glove

@aricana8

@pixelated-pineapple 

[masterlist]

#amanda's sanders sides college au #amanda writes sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides college #sanders sides college au #intruality #ts patton #patton sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #ts intruality #prinxiety #loceit

[snowdice]

Folds in Paper (Chapter 4: Before All the Paperwork Got Signed)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Chapter Summary:  

I can draw a straight line Through my mind Right back to the good times Back when all the stars were aligned Before all the paperwork got signed

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Janus was frozen in surprise for a few long moments after Pat disappeared. Which had been, admittedly, his mistake, because, while their window had technically been until 11:17pm and it was only 11:10, the loud crack that whatever Pat had been using for time travel made, garnered the attention of someone else.

“Uh oh,” Remus said, likely hearing footsteps. “Hide.”

That snapped Janus into action, but instead of hiding immediately like a sensible human being, he chose to go for the only link to the man who’d just stolen time travel tech and waltzed away: the mask.

Which… was why he ended up getting arrested.

Remy tsked the moment they were all alone in the police car having come to ‘transfer Lee to another facility.’ Remus was already waiting in the front seat, and flashed Janus a smug smile. If Janus wasn’t still handcuffed, he’d slap him.

“Well,” Remy said. “At least you didn’t shoot anybody like I asked. I was joking by the way. I didn’t really want to pick you up from a 1920s police station period.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Mmm, nah, ‘cause Remus managed to not get arrested this time, so you defiantly screwed something up.”

“Oh, he defiantly wanted to screw something all right,” Remus said joyfully.

“Remus,” Janus hissed.

“What?” he asked. “I’m not the horny one for once. Well, no, that’s a lie, but it didn’t affect the job this time.”

Janus groaned and leaned his head back against the seat.

Remy pulled into a seemingly random garage around 20 minutes later. “Alright,” he said. “Here we are.” He got out of the car and then helped Janus out before uncuffing him. “Here’s your ‘watch,’” Remy handed him the timepiece that had been confiscated when he’d been arrested.

Janus put it on and activated it. “Shit,” he said.

“What?” Remus asked.

“An appointment with cultural outreach has already been downloaded to my calendar for once we get out of decon.”

“Oof. Going to baby jail,” Remy laughed. Remus was cackling.

“This,” Janus said, “was not a cultural faux pas. I did nothing that indicated that I was not from this time. I am not some rookie.”

“Don’t forget cell phones don’t exist in the 1920s,” Remus sang.

“The real question is whether or not my foot exists in your…” Remus disappeared before he could finish, a smirk on his face. Janus growled. “By Remy,” he gritted out. He selected the decontamination chamber from his queue, ignoring the appointment that came after it for now.

He knew exactly where Remus would be standing when he landed, which was why he stepped forward on reentry to ram into him.

He yelped in surprise. “Sorry,” Janus said pleasantly. “I must have also forgotten landing procedures.

Remus laughed good naturally. “Aw, come on Jay,” he said, bumping Janus back, albeit much gentler than Janus had been. “It’s not a big deal. You just go talk with some crusty old college professor who is far too interested in spoons or something than can be healthy and then everything’s fine.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he growled. “They’re treating me like I’m an idiot who accidently invented disco in the 1920s when I was conned by some free agent time traveler.”

“‘Conned,’ Remus said. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

“I know where and when you live Remus,” Janus said.

Remus gave him a dopey smile as the decontamination cycle finished and the door unlocked. Janus’s wrist buzzed telling him that the coordinates to the cultural outreach office were now unlocked. Instead of pulling them up, Janus walked to the door.

“Um,” Remus said, following him. “Aren’t you supposed to be going to your appointment?” Janus just kept walking towards their office. “Uh… Jan?”

“It’s absolutely ridiculous that I have to go to Cultural Outreach,” Janus said. “In fact, no one can make me. If they want me to go have a discussion about the definition of ‘bushwa,’ they’re going to have to have me dragged there.”

“Mmm, I feel like The Boss won’t be too happy about that, and I have a feeling she’d be 100% down to dragging you there herself.”

“Well, then, let her,” Janus said, stalking through the door to his office. “I’m not going to…”

“Ah, Agent Picani,” the woman standing next to his desk, clearly waiting for him, said when he came through the door. “Dr. Picani was informed that there were complications with your last mission and wishes to have a conversation with you. He asks that you meet him in his office at the AMO.”

“Oh, um,” Janus said, stumbling a bit before plastering on a regretful half smile. “Unfortunately, I actually have an appointment right now at Cultural Outreach. It’s mandatory and very important, and I have to go now. So, I’ll have to take a raincheck on that.”

“But-” she started, frowning.

“Remus, work on the report!” Janus said quickly as he waved his hand to bring up his timepiece display and jammed his finger at the glowing appointment card in his queue. A few moments later, Janus was at Cultural Outreach.

Cultural Outreach was not part of the TPI, though it often worked very closely with them. It was a collaboration between the government and multiple universities to help government workers, politicians, and other citizens understand and bridge cultural gaps. It had existed before time travel was invented but had expanded to also teach people who needed to time travel how to behave in unfamiliar times and cultures.

After it had to be expanded to provide for the TPI, it had been moved to Silver Mountains University. The building had once just been a museum, but it had been thoroughly renovated and there had been add-ons for office space and some classrooms. It was still a museum, however, its purpose had expanded greatly and there were many areas that were off limits to the general public.

One of these areas was the fourth floor, where Janus’s timepiece had dumped him. This was the floor that was almost exclusively for TPI agents and the staff of Cultural Outreach who worked with them.

He immediately turned away from the reception area, hoping that he could escape and go sit on the university’s quad or something of the like for the next hour or so in hopes the woman his brother sent to fetch him would give up and go back to the AMO. Yet, the receptionist apparently saw him.

“Janus Picani?” he asked.

Janus grimaced and turned back towards him. “Yes,” he said.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You’re 5 minutes late for your appointment and seem disoriented.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Is your timepiece malfunctioning?”

“No.”

“Uh… okay. Well, if you sign in here, I can take you to your appointment.”

“…Fine.”

 He begrudgingly stepped forward and touched the screen the receptionist gestured to for him sign with his fingerprint, and then let the man lead him down the hall.

The door they stopped at was propped open slightly, but he still paused and knocked. “Professor Eran? Your 2:30 is here.”

Janus had just a moment upon hearing the name to think that maybe there was actually some sort of intelligent design of the universe and whatever being of ultimate power had crafted it was a dick.

The door opened and Virgil Eran’s eyes immediately narrowed on him. “Janus.”

“Virgil.”

“I see you’re still late for everything.”

“I see you’re still a bastard.” Janus saw the receptionist slowly back away in the direction they’d come.

“Why don’t you come in?” Virgil said faux pleasantly.

Janus did, because he really didn’t have much of a choice at this point unless he wanted to jump out of a window… or push someone out of a window.

Virgil turned back into his office and took a seat behind his desk. Janus unhappily followed him in and sat across from him.

He took his time pulling up whatever the TPI sent him and reading it over. “So, I see you failed your recovery mission and were arrested in 1923.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Janus said. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Virgil gave him that same suspicious look he used to give Janus whenever Janus claimed to have not eaten his hot pockets out of the freezer in the middle of the night. He’d only been lying 80% of the time. Virgil had a tendency to forget what he’d eaten in a half-conscious state at 3 o’clock in the morning.

“I shouldn’t,” Janus snapped defensively. “Nothing went wrong with anyone from the time period. An illegal time traveler screwed up the mission details.”

“Well, it is still protocol to make sure nothing slipped when agents go off script. You weren’t prepared to be in a jail cell, and it is possible that you screwed something up.”

“I didn’t screw anything up,” Janus growled.

“Alright,” Virgil said, pulling up a document on his desk. “The mission started on July 27th, 1923 at 9:58pm, correct?”

“Oh, god, we’re not really going to fill out a time sheet? I don’t have time for that today.”

“It is protocol and best that the information is documented when it is still fresh in your mind. Besides, your schedule has been cleared for the rest of the workday.” The bastard was enjoying this. He knew how much Janus hated this stuff.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Janus said, “it was the damned illicit time traveler.”

“And I will be the judge of that,” Virgil said. Janus should have just bit the bullet and had coffee with his brother. “If you truly did nothing wrong, your supervisor will see that when I send this to her.”

Yet, despite the fact that Virgil clearly relished in his suffering, he was charitable enough to do most of the actual filling out of the forms. He’d read out the questions and write down what Janus said instead of making him do it himself. Janus really only had to do a quick quality check and sign it at the end.

He still was an asshole about the details, but really he’d been like that about stupid thing like the settings for the dish washer and how the pantry was organized during their college days before they’d had their falling out, so Janus wasn’t particularly surprised. When they were finally done, Virgil sent it off to get filed by the TPI.

Then, they were left staring at each other with nothing between them but almost a decade of radio silence and a whole lot of awkwardness.

“I should go,” Janus finally said, standing up.

Virgil tilted his head slightly to the side and gave him a half smile. “Don’t lock the door behind you,” he said. “Not that I’d expect you too.”

Janus took it for the clear attempt at a joke it was intended to be and puffed out a breath of amusement with a head shake. “No risk of that,” he said. Then, he turned and walked out of the office.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #moceit #time travel #adriana writes #folds in paper #folds in time universe #remy sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #analogical #emile piccani

[punkiesocialonline]

WWE College AU Chapter 1

Summary: Annalise Ruiz (My Oc) is a college sophomore with a group project due soon. The only problem is who her group partners are. The Mayhem they cause and the trouble they get her into is maddening, but Annalise is down for whatever as long as her crew is with her.

Oh, great. A group project. On top of all the homework.

Ignoring for the moment the “juicy” gossip her tablemate was telling the girl behind them, Annalise looked up to the board.The list of both familiar and unfamiliar names continued on and on until she found hers. Her group consisted of herself, obviously, and three male students, only two of which she had known. One being her long time friend and class clown Samuel Zayn, who refuses to answer to anything other than Sami. The other was his trouble maker best friend Kevin Owens. Kevin caught Annalise’s eye from his seat in the corner of the room and waved, his smirk letting her know he had no intention of helping on this project. With an annoyed eye roll, Annalise looked back at the board. The last name assigned to her group was Roman Reigns. Annalise had no idea who Roman was, but her tablemate, a petite blonde with pink highlights named Alexa, certainly did. 

“Oh my goodness, Anna! You got Roman “Hot As Sugarballs” Reigns in your group!”

Annalise’s confused look gave away her lack of knowledge of Mr.”Hot As Sugarballs”. Alexa gasped in surprise and turned back to her gossip buddy behind her.

“Sasha! She doesn’t know who Roman Reigns is!”

Sasha, the darling girl with beautiful, brown skin and dark eyes looked unamused. She tossed her blue dyed hair behind her shoulder and shook her head at Alexa. 

“Not everyone is as obsessed with Reigns like you are, Bliss.”

“I’m not obsessed!” Alexa protested. “He’s just, so hot.”

Before the conversation could go any further, the bell rang and Annalise sighed in relief.

“Saved by the bell,” she thought as she grabbed her books and started to walk to the door. 

“Hey! Annalise, wait up!” 

“Spoke too soon,” she told herself as she turned around and was met with two of her partners. 

Both Canadians smiled down on their shorter classmate. Kevin leaned against the desk he stood next to while his red-headed counterpart jumped with excitement. Both had a piece of paper in their hands.

“We were thinking of some ideas for the project,” Kevin said bordly. 

“We made lists!” Sami said, happily shoving his piece of paper into her hand.

“List of Jericho?” Annalise joked, referring to Kevin’s former friend Chris Jericho.

Chris was an upperclassman who used to write lists of people who annoyed him. Annalise got herself on a list by telling him how truely annoying he was.

“There’s a big difference,” Kevin explained. “These lists were written by two actually intelligent people.”

Annalise chuckled and skimmed through Sami’s list, taking note of a few really good ideas she liked. She nodded and gave the list back then outstretched her hand for Kevin’s. With the same sly smile as before, Kevin handed her his list.

Annalise noticed almost instantly that the paper was mostly blank. Only one bullet point was written at the top of the page;

Let Sami come up with all the ideas 

“Wow,” she said sarcastically as she handed the paper back. “These are great and all but apparently we have one more person in our group.”

Both boy’s eyes lit up. Kevin’s smirk grew and Sami’s jumping intensified. Annalise furrowed her brows at their reactions. 

“Yeah, the big dog,” Kevin said, standing up straight and leading Annalise out of the classroom with Sami following them. 

Her confused look returned to her face. She quickly tried to go through her memory and put a face to the name. She allowed herself to be led throughout the halls as she did so. 

“You really don’t know who he is? He’s pretty hard to miss,” Sami remarked after she had visibly given up.

She threw him a wild glance and raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t we have the same math class Sami? I tend to miss a lot,” the girl responded as she continued to walk. 

She really didn’t care where they were going. She knew most of the school like the back of her hand and their last class was her final class of the day, so rather than going back to her dorm alone, an adventure with the two reasons their last science teacher quit was more than welcomed. Annalise also wanted to know more about this mystery man everyone else seemed to know. 

“Well, you know Seth, right?” Kevin asked as he made the latina turn a corner. 

Her two toned friend came to her mind instantly. She went to highschool with him and witnessed his glow up first hand. She loved the guy, but what did he have to do with Roman Reigns?

“Rollins? Yeah, I know him.”

Kevin had her turn another corner into a hall she had no idea even existed. She didn’t have time to ask where they were going before he responded.

“Roman is his older brother.”

Annalise’s mouth dropped open. She tried to think back to highschool, certain that Seth had introduced her to an older brother, but the name that came to mind was not Roman.

“I thought his older brother was Ambrose. You know, Dean Ambrose?” 

The mention of the upperclassman made Sami shudder. Dean was an even bigger trouble maker than Kevin, and Sami knew all too well what it is like to get into a confrontation with him. Dean was the king of detention back in highschool and Annalise was pretty sure she'd seen the lunatic hanging out by the dorms more times than she could count, but she had no classes with him and never saw him in the halls. And surely no one was dumb enough to get the name  “Dean Ambrose” confused with “Roman Reigns”. 

“Yeah, that’s ONE of his older brothers, but he got another, Roman,” Sami explained as he fixed his hat.

“Everyone calls him the big dog,” KEvin added, coming to a stop at an opened locker.

With a nod, Annalise stopped with him. She looked around and noticed a few upperclassmen she recognized. Randall Orton, Natalya Hart, Drew Mcintyre, Lacey Evans, even Alan Jones Styles. Some waved at Annalise and glared at her companions, others did the opposite. And while she did enjoy seeing them all and exploring this new hallway, Annalise saw no reason for her friends and herself to be there. 

“Why did you take me here?” She asked, leaning against the lockers.

Kevin smirked once again and glanced at the locker. 

“To see our other porr assignment sucker,” he said as he slammed the opened locker shut.

Before even a breath could be taken, Kevin was pushed into the locker. Sami and Annalise jumped back and looked up at the mountain of a man that was responsible. He was much taller than the three sophomores, with long, black hair tied into a bun and grey eyes. Part of Annalise wondered if he was wearing contacts, another part was wondering how high she would have to jumped to slap him for pushing her associate into the locker. 

“Hey, ride or die. Even for these fools,” she thought. 

As she took a step towards the male, Kevin spoke.

“Woah, woah, woah, big dog, chill” 

With wide eyes, Annalise realized that THIS was Roman Reigns. For once she could agree with Alexa, he was hot.

And she did recognize him. She remembered seeing him picking up Seth and Dean back in highschool. She also remembered seeing him sitting in his car, watching carefully as Dean pushed her into a bush while she was walking with Seth. She even remembered seeing him standing off to the side as Dean tried to awkwardly apologize the next day. How come she never noticed him here? 

“Because you’ve been too focused on school,” She thought. “And….other stuff.”

She was pulled back into reality when a deep, deep voice rattled her chest. It took her about five seconds to realize it was Roman talking. 

“What do you want, Owens?”

Annalise’s dazzlement soon turned back into anger as he pushed Kevin once again before he could answer.

“You’re our partner in a project,” Annalise nearly growled. “You would’ve known that if you had the common sense to show to class.”

The samoan’s cold gaze went from Kevin down to the small latina and the hint of amusement in them filled Annalise with more rage. 

“I know you,”he stated, studying her.

She felt his eyes look over her green dyed hair. She felt his eyes bounce from her pierced eyebrow to her pierced nose. His gray eyes stared into her brown ones, then those very eyes skimmed over her appearance. Annalise felt her face heat up as she got angrier. 

“Oh?” She said, trying to keep her composure. “Well, considering that I just found out who you are two seconds ago, I can officially say where you stand on the popularity chart.”

The tall man’s eyes lost all amusement in them. Kevin noticed and stood up straight, ready for a fight. Behind Annalise, Sami glared at Roman, trying, and failing, to intimidate the bigger man. 

Then Roman started to laugh. If Annalise thought his voice rattled her, she was not prepared for his laugh. 

“You’re gonna be fun,” Roman said between breaths. “A project, huh? Alright then, you three can come by my dorm around, let's say five?” 

The Canadians looked between themselves and their female partner. Satisfied, all three nodded.

“Alright, your dorm at five,” Annalise mumbled, keeping a wary eye on him.

His demeter changed in a blink of an eye. He no longer looked so big and bad. His smile lit up the hall as he playfully punched Kevin in the arm. A playful punch Kevin returned.

“Wait,” Sami interrupted after a moment of deep thinking. “Are your brothers going to be there?”

Roman shrugged. “Seth is my roommate, so he’ll probably be there. “ He glanced at Annalise as he said that. 

Annalise knew he saw her smile at the mention of his puppy-like brother, but she hoped he thought nothing of it. Don’t need that rumor going around.

“And the other one?” Sami tried to ask casually. 

Almost everyone knew about Sami’s confrontation with Dean. During an argument out in the courtyard, Dean brought Sami’s sexuality confusion into the mix. Now there was a rumor going around that Dean felt sorry and didn’t actually mean to bring up such a touchy subject, but Sami didn’t believe it. He told anyone that believed otherwise that Dean could never keep the truth from his eyes. When he started calling Sami out, in front of multiple classmates no less, his crazy eyes told Sami that he meant and believed every word. Dean’s crazy eyes turned into black eyes by the time their confrontation was over. Sami, on the other hand, had a broken nose, a busted lip, and a bruised pride.

Roman’s gaze softened at Sami’s nervous-like behavior. He was there when the argument went down, he was the one who pulled Dean off of him. Roman had felt guilty for not telling Dean to stop once he got to dangerous waters, but Dean was his little brother. He was taught to stand behind his family, no matter the choices they make. Even if they are really dumb ones. 

“Dean is….unpredictable. He may be there, he may not. If he is, I swear he’ll be on his best behavior,” Roman assured him. “And Samuel, Dean really didn’t mean to offend you, he was losing an argument and took a low blow.”

Annalise and Kevin looked at each other at Sami. The ginger was staring off down the hallway, trying to stay calm and act cool. He finally looked up at Roman after a moment of silence.

“It’s Sami.”

Roman seemed to understand that the smaller man was not trying to hear him defend his brother’s actions. The samoan simply just nodded and checked his watch.

“I have to go, see you three at five,” he stated, glancing up from his watch.

“Yeah, see ya,” Sami mumbled, already walking off. 

Annalise and Kevin followed silently, leaving Roman Reigns behind them.

“Well that was...interesting,” Annalise said, falling into step with Sami on his left side.

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed, walking on Sami’s right. “You okay, Sami?”

Sami took a deep breath and nodded. The further they walked, the clearer his eyes became.

“Yeah,yeah, I’m fine.” He said. “I think I’m going to skip my next class though.”

Kevin wrapped his arm around Sami’s shoulder. Annalise intertwined her fingers with Sami’s. Sami glanced at both of them and smiled.

“Well,” Kevin said, flicking Sami’s ear. “If you’re skipping class, so am I.”

With a chuckle, Annalise nodded. 

“I’m already finished with my classes for the day, wanna head to my dorm and get beat in some video games?” 

Both boy’s smiles grew. Ignoring the look some classmates like Bobby Lashely and Daniel Bryan threw their way, the three of them walked to the doors.

“You’re on, grasshead!” Kevin exclaimed, making Sami laugh. 

And while they walked out, Kevin discreetly flicked off the students who dared to look at him and his friends funny.

Bobby and Daniel certainly got the message.

#oc #fanfic #sami zayn #Kevin Owens #roman reigns #college au #WWE #Annalise Ruiz #chapter 1

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 12: Crime

Roman is the son of wealthy mafia boss Romulus Prince. He's currently living across the country to pursue art. Roman hasn't told his boyfriend Janus about his family. After almost getting shot in his own apartment, the two learn that they've both kept some serious secrets from each other.

Roman POV, Roceit with Creativitwins

Day 11 | Masterlist | Day 13

“Hey, Janus. What time are you getting off today?”

“I should be home within the next twenty or so minutes. I hope our date is still on the table.”

“Yep, luckily they didn’t send me any work to take home. I’ve got some wine in the fridge and we could order some Thai later?”

“That sounds lovely. I’ll see you soon, dearest.”

“See you then.” Roman sighed as he pocketed his phone. Tonight was the night he’d tell Janus.

Tell Janus what, exactly? Well, that his name isn’t actually Roman Royale. Roman was actually Roman Prince, son of Romulus Prince. While that wouldn’t mean much to a New York civilian like Janus, it meant a lot to others. Mainly because Romulus Prince is a very powerful mafia boss. Roman had grown up with his father and twin brother in California. Once it became clear that Remus (Roman’s brother) would be the one inheriting the family business, Roman had expressed his desire to have a career in art. Romulus had relented after years of persuasion. So here Roman was, thousands of miles away from home, studying art at a local college with Janus, his boyfriend of four years. Roman trusted Janus with his life by this point, and he felt like it was only right to tell him of his heritage.

But Roman was nervous. This wasn’t something you could just casually bring up in a conversation. Would Janus break up with him? Or call the police on him? The options were endless. The last thing Roman wanted to do was lose Janus.

Maybe I could just never tell him. I technically never have to rejoin the family business. We could just live out our lives in peaceful ignorance forever. Roman thought as he unlocked the door to his and Janus’ shared apartment.

Only to feel a gun pressed against the back of his head.

“Drop the bag and get in the house. Now!” Roman felt numb as he followed the order, vaguely realizing that he’d also dropped his phone along with this satchel. His movements felt robotic as he made his way into the house, hearing the man shut the door behind them. The man pressed them into the living room, with Roman’s back still facing him. “Now, where is it?”

“Where’s what?” Roman ignored how flat his tone was. This wasn’t the first time he’d been held at gunpoint, but it was the first time that he didn’t have a definitive chance at escaping.

The man grunted. “The eye! Where. Is. The. Eye?”

Roman was confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There’s nothing in this apartment that even vaguely resembles an eye, and Janus had never mentioned an eye before. What the hell was this guy talking about?

Roman felt the pressure of the gun on the back of his head disappear, but he knew it was still pointed at him. “You Princes think you’re real funny, don’tcha?” Roman tensed at the name, and the man laughed. “What, did you think this was some kind of petty robbery? I know who you are, Roman Prince. And I know you have the eye’s location. So. Where. Is. The. Eye?”

BAM!

Roman heard the man drop to the ground. He slowly turned around to see Janus standing there, pistol in hand. His face was slightly pinched, but his focus wasn’t on the body. It was on Roman. “What the hell?”

Roman tried to console Janus. “I know this looks bad, but I swear I was gonna explain eventually. I don’t even know how they found me.” Roman rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this…”

Janus continued to stare at him for a moment before speaking. “You’re Roman Prince?” He sounded like he just guzzled a gallon of the sourest drink to ever exist.

Roman sighed. “Yeah…” Then his head snapped up. “Wait, you know who Roman Prince is?!”

Janus sighed, holstering his weapon. “You’re not the only one that’s been keeping secrets.” He gave the body a once-over before walking towards his bedroom. “Pack your essentials, we need to leave immediately.”

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

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were sitting in the back of someone else’s car. Janus had apparently called in for someone to give them a lift. Roman sighed. “Okay, so you’ve heard my secret, now it’s time to hear yours. How do you know about the Princes?”

Janus stared down at his gloves, refusing to meet Roman’s gaze but still keeping him in his peripheral. “I’m sure you’ve heard of The Sides?”

Roman nodded. The Sides were an infamous gang around here. They were small, having four known members that weren’t common lackeys, but powerful. It was rumored that the current governor was only elected because the other candidate disagreed with Deceit, the gang’s leader. The Princes didn’t have a lot of information on The Sides (they were on opposite ends of the country) but they had a neutral alliance from Romulus’ brief visits to New York.

Janus sighed. “Then the name Deceit should ring a few bells.”

Roman stared in shock. “Seriously?!” Janus nodded, and Roman laughed. “So the leader of The Sides and the heir of The Princes have been dating for four years and neither of us had any idea.”

Janus smiled. “It would seem that way.” There was a brief moment of silence. “I assume you understand why I kept this a secret.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah, and you know why I did too.” It was too dangerous to bring civilians into their lives. They both had enough targets on their backs already. “So, what happens now? Are we still…”

“Dating?” Roman nodded. “I hope so. I was intending on telling you at a later date. Now that I know that you have experience with this,” he gestured around vaguely. “Potentially continuing our relationship will be much easier.”

Roman leaned over and pressed his lips to Janus’. The kiss was short and sweet, but it still gave him butterflies the same way it did every time. When they pulled apart, Roman sighed. “Thank God. I thought you would wanna break up with me.”

Janus tilted his head. “Why?”

Roman snorted. “Because I’ve haven’t been associated with my family for over five years, and yet someone still found me. Speaking of which, I need to make some calls.” He turned to his phone, frowning at the new crack from where he’d dropped it. He dialed a number that he hadn’t used in years, yet still knew from memory.

“Welcome to Tea’s Tease, the best place for gossip and blow jobs! How may I-”

“Cut it out, Remington.” The person’s tone shifted immediately, going from high pitched and customer-service-y to terrified.

“Sorry, Remus! Thought it was a spam caller-”

“Wrong twin, dumbass.” Roman growled out, already starting to lose his patience.

“Roman? OMG, it’s been, like, forever! What’s going on, babes? Get any smokin’ hot man meat?”

“We’ll talk later, Remy. I need to talk to Dad right now.” The line went silent. “Hello?”

“Oh, sweet baby. You don’t know, do you?”

Roman sighed. “I obviously don’t, now what’s going on?”

“Ro… Boss died two weeks ago. He was found shot in his own office” Roman barely stopped himself from gasping. They all knew how serious this line of work was, but Romulus had always seemed… invincible. Roman ignored the sadness welling up in his chest. He’d mourn later.

“Okay, where’s Remus then?” Remus should be the new boss now. It would be a pain trying to get information out of him, but Roman could make it work.

“He’s been off the grid for over a month.” That shouldn’t have surprised Roman. Remus was always slipping off the grid for weeks at a time. Only Romulus knew where Remus would run off to. But that, combined with Romulus’ death? That wasn’t good. Roman had thought it was Remus that killed Romulus, but now it couldn’t be. Even if Romulus had done something to anger Remus, it would take a lot to warrant death. And Remus would have done something much messier than a bullet. And why hadn’t Remus come back to run the family? He’d been ecstatic to learn that he was being chosen over Roman. So why continue hiding? Unless…

“Remy, who’s the boss right now?”

“I’ll give you two hints: his name starts with a J and you hate his guts.” Jacob Smith. The bastard probably killed Romulus.

“Remy, why didn’t anyone contact me? My address was in the vault.” Romulus had a small vault in his office that held Roman’s address along with several other important members.

“The vault was empty when we checked it.” So either Romulus destroyed the information, or Jacob took it to prevent anyone from contacting him. That’s how they found me.

“Remy, Jacob can’t know that you talked to me.”

Remy snorted. “Of course. You know everyone here hates Jacob’s guts.”

“Okay, one last question before I hang up. Has anyone been talking about an ‘eye’ of some sort?”

“Hmm… Nope, not that I can think of. But I’ll check the rumor mill later.”

“Okay. If you hear anything about an eye or Remus’ location, call me immediately. I’ll check in later.”

“Alrighty, Ro! I’ll get you to spill your tea later. Bye!”

Roman sighed, dropping the phone in the seat next to him. He started talking to himself. “Let me get this straight-”

Janus snorted. Roman had forgotten he was there “Good luck with that.”

Roman continued. “My Dad’s dead. Remus is missing. Knowing them, along with what that guy back at the apartment was saying, Dad probably knew about the ‘eye,’ whatever it is. He probably told Remus about it too, which is why he hasn’t come out of hiding. Jacob Smith is now head of the family, people are after me, and my boyfriend’s Deceit.” He sighed. “So all I have to do is figure out what this ‘eye’ is, find Remus, avenge my father’s death, and kill Jacob. Sounds simple enough.” He looked over to Janus hopefully. “You’ll help a boyfriend out, won’t you?”

Janus thought for a moment before sighing. “You’re so lucky I love you.” He smiled as Janus continued. “New York has gotten pretty boring lately. I might even bring the other Sides with me for assistance. We can make a vacation out of it.”

#sanders sides #AU_gust_2020 #crime au #roceit #roman sanders #Janus Sanders #remus sanders #remy sanders #king romulus

[goldheartofsteel]

apologies to my heart - a Moceit Soulmate AU

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Characters: Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman “Princey” Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus “The Duke” Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani

Relationships: Morality | Patton Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - College/University

Tagging:@omgsomeonesomewhereonearth || @patient--zer0 || @kawaiikat54 || @uniquedonutland || @sanderssides-angst

Relaxing in the chair, Janus takes a sip of his wine while watching the antics of his friends around him.  The white wine is crisp and a little sour but not to the point of being overwhelming, just how he likes it. A chill afternoon is what they all need and deserve if he’s honest. 

“Alright, alright alright. The gang’s all here!” exclaims Remus loudly as he bounds into the living room. 

Janus meets Logan’s gaze and smirks behind his glass as he gets an eye roll from his genius friend. Then he happens to look around the room and does a head count. 

They’re one head short or if he’s being accurate --- three heads short but it’s not like he considers Remy and Emile his friends; they’re just two people who hang around Patton too much and take up too much of his attention, is all. 

“Patton’s not here, Remus. So no, the gang’s not all here,” he comments helpfully. 

“Neither are Remy or Emile,” adds Roman.

Only Remus notices how his grip tightens on the arm of the chair at the names. 

“Patton’s over at Remy and Emile’s for the afternoon,” chimes in Virgil from where he’s sitting on the floor at Janus’ feet. 

Janus narrows his eyes.

Why is Patton there? He should be here with hi-with his friends. 

Shaking his head slightly, he tries to push the thoughts of Patton away but Patton has a stubborn grip on his mind. He thinks about the last hangout and can’t help glaring at his wine glass --- the way Remy and Emile hung all over Patton (more like hogged Patton all to themselves), the weird look on Patton’s face any time Janus managed to catch Patton staring at him....how far away from him Patton stayed.

The last memory hits Janus hard in the heart and he barely manages to muffle his gasp so no one else especially Virgil can hear him. 

A hand squeezes his shoulder gently causing him to break out of his thoughts as the others argue about what to watch and look up at Remus, who stares at him with a concerned look for his best friend. 

“You alright, J?” asks Remus softly as to avoid drawing attention to themselves. 

Janus bites his lip.

“I was...ah thinking.”

Remus stares at him in confusion for a few seconds then he gets it.

“I hope this plays out the way you want it too and doesn’t end up blowing up in your face instead,” Remus states before going over to the couch and plopping down next to Logan before putting his head in Logan’s lap and taking over the rest of the couch. 

The startled expression on Logan’s face nearly makes Janus chuckle. 

Nearly. 

-----

Sometimes, making simple things in the kitchen are the most delicious and in this case, puppy chow mix is a perfect example. 

Patton grins down at the bowl and he’s sure he’s got powdered sugar on his face, at least on his glasses but he doesn’t care. All that matters is he’s making something delicious to share with all of his friends. The fact that this is one of Remus’ favorite snacks and he’s been down lately is purely coincidental. 

“Hey Pat, whatcha up to in here?”

Patton looks at the doorway and grins at the sight of Virgil standing there. 

“Hey Virge! I’m making puppy chow mix. Want some?” responds Patton.

Virgil raises an eyebrow as he tries to hide a smile at his best friend’s exuberance. 

“Is the sky blue? Of course, I want some,” he crosses the room then hops up on the counter, out of the way of Patton, “if I don’t get some now before Remus gets a hold of the Puppy Chow mix then I’ll never get some.”

Patton chuckles. 

“Oh, I’ve already made Remus his own batch, not to worry.”

Virgil nods his head. 

It’s easy to watch Patton work but it’s harder to not want to join in when Patton’s so excited about what he’s doing.

Then Virgil notices Patton’s glasses. 

“With all of the powdered sugar on your glasses, I’m amazed you can see anything at all,” he teases.

Patton simply grins at him before sticking his finger into the powdered sugar then booping Virgil on the nose. 

Blinking, it takes his brain a couple seconds to process what happened. Then Virgil laughs, drawing laughter from Patton. This is one of the reasons Patton is his best friend.

He goes over to the sink and turns on the faucet before wetting a paper towel and using it to wipe off his glasses. Making a mess is part of the fun, at least for him it is. 

Virgil shakes his head at his best friend.

As he is about to say something else, he notices Patton’s shirt isn’t completely pulled down; instead, it shows off a strip of skin above his pants on the side of his waist. There’s something there he hadn’t been expecting to see and might explain why he’s never seen Patton without a shirt on in the few years they’ve been friends. 

Why didn’t he know about it’s existence though?

It seems very unPatton-like to keep this to himself as soulmates seem like something right up his alleyway as a romantic person at heart. 

“Is that a soulmark, Patton?” asks Virgil out of the blue.

Startled, Patton jumps up then tugs on the hem of his shirt where it had risen up and showed off a yellow snake outline. 

“Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Patton tries to make a mad dash out of the kitchen but Virgil blocks his exit.

“You have a soulmark and never told me?” he asks firmly.

Looking down at the floor, Patton doesn’t know how to answer. 

“What does it matter? I’m never gonna get to be with him.”

Virgil raises an eyebrow at the confession.

“Him?”

Patton meets Virgil’s gaze as he slaps his hands on his mouth.

“Patton, I want you to be honest with me…is Janus your soulmate?”

#patton sanders #janus sanders #moceit #virgil sanders #sanders sides #pattonfic #janusfic #moceitfic

[starlightinhumanform]

Midas

Fandom: Sanders Sides 

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Background Platonic Logincality

Summary: Greek myth tells of King Midas who could turn anything he touched to gold. Damian hates New Years but when his friends drag him to a party, he meets a man makes everything around him just a little better.

Warnings (in order of strength): A lot of drinking/alcohol mentions/partying (none underage), Mild language throughout, (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst with a happy ending, Human (college) AU 

A/N: Deceit’s name is Damian in this fic :) ALSO I know there’s quite a few younger kids in this fandom and if you’re reading this (first of all, hi I love you) please please PLEASE do not take this fic as an inspiration to abuse alcohol. Underaged drinking/partying can be extremely dangerous. Ok enough being serious!! I hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link    Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

Damian wasn’t a fan of New Years. It shouldn’t mean anything- he knew that. It was just another random day; the fact that people liked to put special significance on it didn’t actually do anything.

But all the talk of new times got into his head, made him think. It made him think about how many things had changed- the friends he had lost, the goals he had once held dear now thrown away. It made him think about how little he had grown- the bitterness he held onto, the stagnation that had settled across him. He was in his third year of grad-school; soon he would be shoved out into the real world with no academic purpose to shelter him.

“New Year, New Me.” Damian didn’t even know who he was.

If there was one thing he hated more than New Years, it was New Years parties. He would go so far as to say the things were the bane of his existence. The music was bad, people got loud and overly exuberant, and strobe lights were used were used far more than ever reasonable. Alcohol always floated around with disturbing prevalence. He hated how fuzzy it made his head- throwing off his balance and slowing his thoughts- but at least it made the party easier to handle.

Damian threw back a shot of cheap, bight blue tequila and winced as it hit the back of his throat. Disgusting. Just because he was trying to get drunk didn’t mean he lacked class.

He set the glass down on a table behind him so he could pretend he hadn’t touched the repulsive thing. He was sitting on a sofa tucked against the back corner of a living room in a house he had never been to before. Next to him, someone was already passed out. They would be starting their new year with a killer hangover.

Across the room, he could see the friends who had dragged him to the houseparty. Roman and Patton were dancing in a crowd of other students, broad grins painted across both of their faces. At least they were happy.

A young man weaved his way through the crowd and threw himself onto the sofa next to Damian with a mixture of disdain and defeat. Damian had seen him around a few times; they had a philosophy class together the last semester. What was his name? Lucas? Landon? Bradon?

“Hey,” Lu-nd-on elbowed him in the side, “You want some champagne?”

Damian raised an eyebrow as he turned to face the man, “Excuse me?”

He pulled a bottle of champagne from somewhere in his coat. The gold foil at the top was already ripped away and he popped the cork off with ease, taking a swig before offering it.

Damian tried not to stare incredulously, but it was a difficult task when his brain was short-circuiting, “Did you just drink out of a champagne bottle like it was a beer?”

“Sure. Why not.”

Damian reached out hesitantly to take the bottle. He was beginning to doubt that this actually was the guy he had shared a class with. That one looked like the type who wouldn’t have been caught dead at a party. The only similarity was the way they dressed- round wireframe glasses, a corduroy jacket over a black button down, and black skinny jeans. His hair- dark brown and pulled into a long ponytail- was the same too.

“Did- did we have a class together?” He took a drink. It was good- expensively good.

“Historical philosophy. You probably don’t remember me- my name’s Logan. You’re Damian, right?”

“Yep. I hear I’m kind of hard to forget,” Damian waved his hand at the dark red birthmark that stretched messily across the left side of his face.

“No. Well, yes. That is, I remember you for a different reason.”

Logan stared at him like he was supposed to understand what that meant. Damian stared back, hoping to convey the fact that he, in no way, understood what was going on.

“So, uh,” Damian searched for something to keep the conversation going, “can I ask about the champagne?”

“You’re asking why I have it?”

Damian nodded, “I am, yeah. Also why you pulled it out of your jacket?”

“As for the first question: people seem to have made a tradition out of getting wasted on New Years Eve and I decided to join them this year.”

Damian had never heard someone speak so matter of factly about getting drunk. He shook his head, laughing, “So you bought an entire bottle of champagne? There are easier methods, you know that right?”

“If you’re referring to the blue monstrosity everyone keeps offering, please know that I’m not a heathen.”

“Oh, so you tried one of those awful things too?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a ruthful smile, “I may have made that mistake.”

Damian handed the bottle back to Logan who took another drink before locking his gaze on Damian’s eyes. He stared like there was a problem in them and he just couldn’t figure out how to solve it. Damian was used to people staring, but not like this. Usually, they would take one look at him and their eyes would glaze over. Whatever the conversation might be, they would always be partially focused on the splatters some god had painted on his face long before he had a say in the matter. It wasn’t that Damian disliked his birthmark. He just hated the way people always saw it instead of him.

But Logan. He was looking at him. Into him, through him. He had no idea what to do with that.

Damian laughed nervously, “What are you looking at?”

Logan cleared his throat and stared out into the crowd, “Anyways I had it in my jacket because these people are all animals and I’d prefer they didn’t rob me of my 35 dollar champagne.”

Logan had handed him the bottle back and Damian choked on the mouthful he had been trying to drink, “I’m sorry, what? So let me get this right: you bought a champagne bottle which is worth more than I usually spend on food for a week. And now you are sharing it with me of all people?”

“Why not you of all people?”

Logan was staring at him again like answers to all of these riddles were obvious.

Damian blinked back, feeling more lost than he had in years. Even that stupid Advanced Geometry course he had decided to take in his freshman year hadn’t screwed him over this badly. Maybe the alcohol was finally getting to him. It would explain why he couldn’t hold a single coherent thought and why he was so hypnotized by the pale freckles that dusted Logan’s nose and cheekbones. They were so light they nearly melted into his skin and seemed to be phasing in and out off existence as the dim lighting played against Logan’s face. He had never noticed them before. Then again, he had never gotten this close before. It was a shame; Logan was mesmerizing. Damian wished he could get closer.

“So what are you going to do after we get out of here?”

It took Damian a moment to realize Logan was asking about a career and not what he would be doing after the party once they left- apparently together. That would have been strange; it was weird his brain even jumped to that conclusion.  Maybe he should stop drinking that damn champagne.

He sighed as his mind returned to the actual question. He wanted to make something up, hide behind a lie of certainty and determination. But it was too much work to weave that fabrication together. Especially on the spot. Especially with how his head was feeling. Especially in front of Logan. He hung his head, “Honestly I have no clue. I’ve always been interested in social sciences but beyond that... no plan, no clue.”

A beat of silence played out between them.  

“So what about you?” The forced brightness in his voice tasted fake and bitter in his mouth.

“I want to teach sciences,” Logan’s eyes glittered.

“A college professor, huh? I could definitely see it,” Logan handed him the bottle and Damian threw yet another swallow back. Didn’t he say he was going to stop?

“High school level, actually.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem-“ Damian pointed at the champagne bottle in an attempt to remind Logan of what a bougie, extra bitch he was, “ -sophisticated enough for you.”

Logan shrugged, “I kind of have a fascination with high schoolers-“

“Ok, that’s creepy.”

“Not like that! I mean the culture, the slang, the way it’s its own little society interacting within a larger one!” Logan’s face had split into a grin as he talked, waving his hands excitedly.

Damian didn’t even resist urge to smile back. Seeing Logan like this, well, there was something contagious about it. He couldn’t help but feel slightly in awe of the passion he saw in Logan, “You really like this stuff, don’t you?”

Logan nodded vigorously, “Do you know the new word high schoolers today have invented and are using?”

“Hmm?” Damian prompted. Anything to keep Logan talking like this. Damian wasn’t sure why he wanted to keep Logan talking. It had something to do with the way warmth was spreading out from his core in a way that was far gentler than anything drinks could do.

“Yeet.”

In the adjoining room Damian could see two groups standing on opposite tables chanting “Yeet, Yeet, Yeet, Yeet” as they tossed a smaller student (who looked like they were having the time of their life) back and forth.

“Uhh, I think college kids use that too,” Damian didn’t want to burst Logan’s bubble but he felt like he was losing his mind. At any moment he was going to start cackling.

Logan paused, giving him a pointed stare, “Maybe you do.”

Damian broke. He collapsed forward, glad he had handed the bottle back as he wrapped his arms around his shaking body. He could hardly breathe but he couldn’t stop laughing either. His head was light and buzzing warmly. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but as tears started streaming out of his eyes, he knew he was officially drunk. Who gave a shit? That had been his goal, right?

He fell all the way down, letting his head land on Logan’s knee. He still couldn’t stop laughing even though it had developed solely into wheezes at that point.

Damian felt a hesitant hand tap on his back before actually settling there, “Are you ok?”

Damian sat up and wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, “Bro, you’re so judgmental.”

Logan’s face shifted from concern into a scowl, “Oh. Sorry.”

The heavy bass of whatever song was playing took over the space between them. Damian kept thinking about destroying that gap. All he would have to do would be lean over, rest himself against Logan, maybe fall asleep. Maybe it was the overpriced buzz in his head talking, but he felt safe around Logan.

Out of the blue, Logan stood up, adjusting the hem of his jacket as he turned to face Damian, “Well, I won’t be bothering you anymore. Maybe I’ll see you around campus sometime. You can finish that if you want.”

Damian looked down by his feet where Logan was pointing to the champagne bottle, “Wait, I don’t understand. You’re leaving? Where?”

Logan glanced around, looking anywhere but Damian’s face. Damian was used to that but this felt different. Logan was different. At least under usual circumstances, he knew why people so adamantly refused to acknowledge his existence. He made them uncomfortable; he didn’t like it, but he got it. Here, he was absolutely clueless.

Logan finally managed to make eye contact. He was trying for a smile but as an expert liar, Damian could see straight through to the grimace beneath, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find someone else who will tolerate my presence for a few moments.”

“Hey,” Damian acted on impulse. After all, Logan’s hand was just hanging there. It was far too empty. And at the moment, reaching forward to grab Logan’s wrist was Damian’s only way to insure that Logan wouldn’t walk away. He knew Logan was a smart guy and would probably see his honeyed whines as deception, but he had to try, “You’re really just going to get me drunk and then ditch me? Who knows what could happen?”

Logan’s eyebrows creased but he didn’t say anything. He looked like he was in pain, eyes sharp and teeth clenched behind a grimace. It was enough to make Damian drop his hand.

“Logan, it’s entirely your choice but if you would like to stay with me, I would enjoy that very much,” Truth wasn’t his strong suit, but he figured it was worth a try.

Logan squinted at him, confused or at least doubtful, “I thought you disliked my judgmental attitude.”

Damian groaned, “Dude... I didn’t mean it like that. I thought it was funny. I think you’re funny.”

“Oh,” Logan looked like he was having a hard time processing Damian’s words. It made him wonder just how many of those tequila shots Logan had thrown back before walking over. He had to be drunk. It was the only way to explain why he was acting so strange.

Damian reached out again and slowly pulled Logan back. He was hesitant but didn’t resist. Logan sat down next to Damian as if he didn’t understand his own actions. His eyes picked Damian apart like he was looking for the fine print.

“You’re sure you don’t mind me?” Logan’s expression was completely open. He was looking for the truth and Damian didn’t think he’d be able to lie if he wanted to. It was a good thing he didn’t need to.

He smiled, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Ok,” Logan settled back into the couch but his eyebrows were still weaved together. Apparently his programs finished running because he suddenly turned to Damian, grinning brightly, “I’m glad.”

Damian smiled back. He was happy to see Logan with that sparkle back, if a little confused as to how he had caused it, “You’re glad... I don’t mind you?”

Logan nodded, “Some people think I’m a little strange.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Damian winced and tried to rush out his next words, “Not, like, I think you’re strange- I think you’re really cool. I just mean people think I’m strange too.”

Damian swore he could map constellations in the stars floating in Logan’s eyes, “You think I’m cool?”

He shrugged, “I mean, yeah. You always seem to have it all together and you have determination and goals and it’s so obvious that you’re going to reach them. That passion is rare to see any more. I mean, I don’t have any of that. You don’t know how much I looked up to you in that class.”

Logan blinked at him like a deer in headlights for a moment before he began frowning, “But you’re incorrect.”

Damian looked up from where had been trying to see how much champagne was left in the bottle, “What do you mean?”

“You obviously have passion. You always had points to bring up during discussions and it was clear you had deep interest in the topics. You don’t know how in awe of you I was. You always found the least likely angle to take and still managed to make a convincing argument,” Logan took the bottle out of Damian’s frozen hands and took a drink, “It was art.”

Damian opened his mouth but all memory of speech had escape him. He looked away, trying to find something safe to stare at while he tried to gather his thoughts. His head was full of fragments, dulled glass shards that floated through fog and bumped against the edges of his mind. It hurt to try to put them all back together into one piece.

So Logan had noticed him in that class. And had remembered him; quite clearly it seemed. Except the way he was talking... nobody had ever spoken to Damian that way before. He was tempted to ask Logan if he had mistaken him for someone else.

He found his eyes wandering down to the space between them. More accurately, he was staring at how little space there was between them. When Logan had sat down the second time, he had done so right next to Damian. Like, right next to him. Now their legs were pressed together, hips and knees bumping together every time one of them shifted. Damian marveled at the fact that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Damian?” He looked up into Logan’s concerned face. God, they were so close, “Are you ok? Your eyes kinda glazed over.”

Damian laughed. It sounded breathy and far away, “Yeah, I’m good.”

From another room, someone started yelling, “LAST 15 MINUTES OF THE YEAR!!”

Logan squinted down at his watch before glaring in the direction of the voice, “There’s only five minutes left.”

Damian chuckled, watching the lines of Logan’s frown as he grimaced at the sea of people around them. There was something endearing about the blunt disdain Logan had for the idiots around them. It was nice to know he didn’t fit into that group, that he had- by some miracle- managed to fit into Logan’s bubble.

“So... you usually celebrate New Years like this?” Logan had suddenly become quite fidgety, wringing his hands in his lap. Damian tried to ignore it. He was having a hard enough time working on his own thoughts; he couldn’t even begin picking apart Logan’s thoughts.

Damian shook his head, “You mean a party? Nah, I usually don’t even celebrate. What about you?”

“Same. I don’t generally go to parties at all.”

Ah, so Damian’s original impression had been correct, “So what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Logan deftly avoided the question with a smirk. Damn, he was good at this.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Some friends dragged me here. Now you tell me what a straight-laced nerd like you is doing in a place like this.”

Logan snorted, “Don’t remember the last time anyone described me as straight- anything.”

“What?”

“What?”

Damian wanted to shake his head like a dog getting out of water. Maybe then, the pieces would fall into some sort of pattern he could recognize. So Logan wasn’t straight. Why did that make him so happy?

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to gain some composure, “Ok, so what is someone like you doing in a place like this?”

Logan looked out across the crowd, his mouth a tight line. On the other side of the room someone took a running start and flung themselves on a pool table that had currently been in use. The thing cracked in half.  

“I was-,” Logan paused, hands tapping quickly against his leg, “-convinced.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, “I’ve never heard someone talk so ominously about going to a party; what is that even supposed to mean?”

Logan winced. His hands were doing full cardio now, clenching into fists over and over again, “I was told someone was going to be here. I just really wanted the chance to talk to him again.”

“But you’ve only talked to me.”

“Yes,” Logan gave him that stare again like Come on, dude, the puzzle pieces are right there- just put them together. He rubbed his eyes in his hands, “Maybe this was a mistake. I didn’t mean to get you drunk. I thought you’d still be able to figure out-“

Click.

Damian’s mouth fell, “Wait, I’m the one you wanted to talk to?”

Logan gave him a small smile. It was the first time Damian had seen him look unsure of himself, “Well, yeah.”

“Oh,” Damian’s head was swimming. He could have blamed it on the champagne or how late it was or the way the lighting had began strobing, flickering between bright neon shades. But he knew that wasn’t it. He couldn’t lie this time- not even to himself.

Logan’s eyes were wide, staring into Damian. Not into his eyes- him. It was unnerving in the best way possible. The shifting light played across his irises, making them every colour of the rainbow.

“Is that ok?”

Logan’s voice startled him back to the present. He had leaned forward, supposedly to be heard above the shouting that had started. Amongst all of the raised voices, Logan’s had only gotten lower. His breath played against Damian’s ear.

Damian looked up, startled slightly but smiling, “Yeah, yeah, that’s good. That’s great.”

Logan smiled, “Yeah? Great?”

He was definitely leaning forward.

Damian huffed out a sigh but smiled even wider, “Shut up. I’m pretty sure you’re drunk.”

Logan scoffed, “And you’re not? You’re a total lightweight.”

“Shut up.”

“TEN!”

The entire house shook as the ridiculous number of students began screaming in unison

“You know, it’s also tradition to kiss someone on New Years,” Logan looked infuriatingly smug.

“NINE!”

Damian usually hated this part, everyone around him creating one huge voice- everyone but him.

Damian raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking to kiss me?”

“EIGHT!”

What he always hated most was the way the entire world seemed to be celebrating- without him. The whole damn planet filled with joy for one tiny moment and he could never figure out why.

Logan smiled like the Cheshire Cat- except the Cheshire Cat had just won the lottery, “Maybe.”

“SEVEN!”

At this point, his heart rate usually would have been spiking, feeling the pressure of “new opportunities” pressing all their expectant eyes on him.

Damian laughed, “Did you come over to talk to me just so you could get a kiss tonight?”

“SIX!”

There was always a part of Damian that would scorn him for not being happy, question why he had turned out to be such a sad, useless lump while everyone else was happily looking forward to the future.

“No,” Logan set his jaw like a stubborn toddler, “I came over here to talk to you so I could get a kiss from you tonight.”

“FIVE!”

No matter what he did, the New Year would plague him. His whole apartment complex would rattle as chanting counted down. The first hours of the year would often find Damian wandering through empty streets, desperate to escape the celebration.

Logan slid his hand onto Damian’s knee, “So can I? Kiss you?”

“FOUR!”

The whole event was just one monstrous reminder. It was an ugly mar on the calendar that whispered Look at all the things you’ve ruined. Look at how far you’ve fallen. Look at how little your future holds.

Damian nodded dumbly. His heart was pounding in his ears.

“THREE!”

New Year made him think of his parents. He always put on a bright mask for them, feeding them lies of empty aspirations and opportunities that didn’t exist. How would they feel to know their son was barreling headfirst into a dead end?

Damian was learning he didn’t need alcohol; Logan was intoxicating enough. The shine in his eyes, the self-satisfied tug to his lips, the way he kept getting closer and closer- it made Damian’s thoughts slow to a halt and everything around him lose focus.

“TWO!”

Every year, the day after would be exactly like the day before. Everyone else seemed to be determined to make themselves better. As much as he searched, Damian could never find the ways to change. New Years was usually taunting, reminding him that he would always be broken and would never be able to fix himself.

Logan’s hands played across his chest, smoothed over his shoulder, ran through his hair. His eyes found Damian’s soul. Damian couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“ONE!!”

Damian had always hated New Years.

Logan leaned all the way forward and his lips were on Damian’s. It was deeper than Damian was expecting, both of their mouths slightly open. Logan kept surging forward with his whole body, destroying the few inches left between them. Damian happily followed his lead, mindlessly falling into synchronous rhythm as Logan kept moving his lips. Except it wasn’t just his lips; Logan kissed with his whole body. He leaned against Damian and his hands were always roaming, leaving little touches as they danced over Damian’s body.

Sure, Damian had kissed other guys before. But he was pretty sure this was the first time anyone had kissed him.

One of Logan’s hands found its way to Damian’s face. His fingers tapped lightly across his birthmark. Damian remembered the kids who stared without shame, the eyes that would dart away as soon as they saw him, the way he could never hold a conversation without his birthmark joining as an unwanted guest star. Logan hadn’t done any of that. Damian had no words to describe what that man was but he liked it.

Damian broke away, completely out of breath. He had no idea how long they had been kissing- it could have been hours for all he knew- but his lungs didn’t have the same luxury of losing track.

Logan’s chest was heaving as it pressed against Damian’s side. His eyes were wide and glazed, staring a million miles away.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes regained their sharp focus. He smiled brightly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You’re a dork. But really,” Damian sighed, “thank you.”

Logan gave him a puzzled smile, “What for?”

“I’m pretty sure this is the first New Year I’ve ever actually enjoyed,” Damian snuggled himself closer to Logan, smiling when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders.

Logan spoke with measured, careful words, “If you like, we could, you know, make our own New Years tradition out of this.”

Damian could feel his eyelids falling and rising every time he blinked like the great velvet currents of a theatre. They were heavy and he was warm and his head was a vague haze. He yawned widely and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist, “I don’t think we have to wait until New Year to do this again.”

He fell asleep listening to Logan stuttering out some happy response. Maybe New Years wasn’t so bad.

If you want to be added to my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p 

~ @phan-fander @abi-beehive ~

#loceit #loceit fluff #loceit angst #loceit fic #loceit human au #loceit fanfic #loceit fanfiction #logan x deceit #deceit x logan #sympathetic deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides human au #sanders side college au #ts logan #ts deceit #romantic loceit #starlight writes

[thetomorrowshow]

89: "I could never forget you" either with Roman or Deceit? (Or both but I'm just a slut for Roceit so)

Okay I know nothing about prison but this happened! The prison au that no one asked for!

~

Dee hadn’t meant to end up here. Until recently, he’d been a college student sharing a dorm with a fellow computer sciences major. Until recently, he’d been happy (if a little bored) with his everyday life. Until recently, Dee hadn’t been charged with second-degree murder.

He hadn’t killed anyone! He had a lawyer working to get him out, but that could take months, even years. Until then, he had to survive jail. So far, it wasn’t going too well, seeing as he was a weedy, glasses-wearing nerd, the buzz cut they’d given him doing nothing to hide the splotchy birth mark on the left side of his face.

He’d finished his time in the fish tank (unfortunately, as people were a lot nicer there), and was now just trying to figure out how to survive. He’d narrowly avoided getting killed in the yard, then again in the cafeteria, and he’d only been here for three days. His cellmate, Roman, he could deal with–the man was huge, but never talked, choosing instead to endlessly tap on his prison-issued tablet. Sometimes Dee saw him out in the yard, joking with some other convicts. Once he’d seen him fight off three prisoners alone before guards could come split them up.

Most of the time, Dee kept to himself. He’d tried to talk to Roman once or twice at the beginning, but had given up. The man just stared at him. Dee struggled to follow the daily routine–checks at 10:30am, 4:45pm, and 9:25pm became regular and easy to remember, but how was he supposed to go out in the yard when there were easily hundreds of convicts twice his size out there? He never remembered to get in line for the showers in time, always taking one close to midnight. He kept missing meals, too scared to put himself in the middle of whatever chaos was going on.

Dee was struggling, and from talking with his lawyer every week, he knew that he wouldn’t be out anytime soon. He just had to keep his head down, be invisible. Surprising no one, that didn’t work.

It wasn’t his first brawl, exactly. He’d gotten involved in a few fights in high school, but he’d never been the target. A man only a bit bigger than him had been eyeing him for the past week, and today he and two others jumped him during the cafeteria rush for dinner.

This is the end, Dee thought distantly, as a fist collided with his stomach. Only it wasn’t the end. Because he was being pulled away. By Roman? Then they were in the hall outside of the cafeteria, Roman looking him over with a surprisingly gentle look on his face.

“Can’t you take care of yourself?” he muttered, then left, abandoning Dee to wonder: what just happened?

-

Over time, things changed. They still didn’t talk, but Roman would silently hand Dee his tablet, a word document open. Dee was amazed by the works there–a fantasy world, brilliantly crafted to fully immerse the reader.

At times, Roman would wait for him, then guide him through the schedule. Show him the right places to be when it was too busy, remind him to shower while everyone was exercising, and exercise while everyone was showering.

Dee got used to life. And somewhere along the way, he and Roman began exchanging words–here a “hello”, there a “how are you”. They grew closer, and it seemed that everyone knew that attacking Dee was attacking Roman in turn, and Roman had connections. For someone so quiet, he was on surprisingly good terms with most of the guards, as well as many of the inmates. Now that Dee wasn’t afraid, he found himself … enamored by the burly man. Not in a romantic way necessarily, but in a that-man-is-really-cool-and-I-look-up-to-him sort of way. It could be romantic. But Roman would never be into Dee that way, so why even think about it?

-

“How’d it go?”

Dee sighed, flopping onto his bunk. “The court date’s set for next April.”

Roman winced. “Bit far away.”

 “You’re telling me.” Dee sat up almost immediately. He and Roman were close enough now, weren’t they? He looked at the other man, sitting criss-cross on the floor, looking fixedly at his tablet. “What’re you doing?” he asked curiously.

“Spanish,” Roman replied without looking up.

“So what are you in for?” Wow, that was tacky. He’d been wondering for a while, but he hadn’t worked up the courage.

“Drugs,” Roman sighed. He gently placed the tablet to the side. “My brother dealt. I was his brute force. We knew it was bad or whatever, and we never did any of ‘em, but when you’re trying to keep your family alive you do what you can.”

“Oh.”

Roman smiled. “I know. Tough decision. Are you gay?”

Deceit choked, coughing violently. Where did that come from? When he could breathe, he croaked out, “What… ?”

“You asked an intrusive question, so it was my turn,” Roman said simply. “So are you? Because it’s tough finding someone else who is, and you’re kinda cute.”

“Did you just ask me out?”

-

So they dated.

-

Dee hadn’t expected to find his soulmate in prison. Dee hadn’t expected to find anything in prison, yet here he was with a relationship and a new appreciation for life. They weren’t public about it, and some of the guards seemed to know but never brought it up.

Roman was different, now. He was softer, yet louder. He sang in private, and Dee found himself blushing at his rough yet perfect voice. Sometimes he’d growl out a lyric, making Dee shiver, then pick the smaller man up and twirl him around.

They laughed with each other, talked until late in the night, designed a perfect world together. Roman had a fifteen year sentence that he’d completed six years of, and Dee was hopefully going to be out in ten months, so it could never work. Maybe Roman could appeal to get out early for good behavior, but it seemed unlikely that their imaginary family would ever exist. They could dream though, and dream they did.

They stole chaste kisses in the bathroom, held hands in their cell, hugged before leaving for work in the morning. Roman laughed and lifted Dee out of bed some mornings when he wouldn’t get up (and if he wouldn’t get up because he wanted Roman’s strong arms around him, that was nobody’s business). Dee massaged Roman’s shoulders at night when he couldn’t sleep.

It was love, pure and simple. They forgot the depressing reality that surrounded them and lived to see each other. They argued, of course. It was always settled by the next day, after they could talk in the darkness of their cell and work things out. It was the most perfect relationship Dee had ever been in, and worked better than most of the ones he’d seen on TV. They sang together, laughed together, cried together.

They slow danced in their cell, Roman singing as he held Dee to his chest. Concrete walls filled with murderers and rapists were on every side, yet Dee had never felt safer.

-

The day came. They both knew it would happen eventually, but neither wanted to let go of each other. Dee was free, was leaving. Roman promised to email at every opportunity, but they both knew that wasn’t very often. He would have saved up enough to call once a week for fifteen minutes. Dee could only manage a visit every two months. They wouldn’t see each other, would possibly lose this. The best thing to ever happen to both of them, this spark, would go out with no one to nurture it.

They ignored the facts, hoping that wouldn’t happen. Roman hugged Dee one last time, then stepped back. There were no tears in his eyes–he’d always been stoic like that. When he spoke, though, his voice shook. “Don’t forget me,” he said. “It won’t be too long before I’m out, and we can have that life.”

Dee was crying, and he gave his love a watery smile. “I could never forget you,” he said. They both knew that life would never happen. They both pretended it would. “I’ll wait for you.”

~

Prompts are still open!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #prison au #ts #ts sides #deceit sanders #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #roman sanders #ts roman #why is this so long? #i know nothing about prison life #roceit