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Sanders' Sides SFW Ask Prompt One-Shots

Chapter Text

Tags: bullying, assault, comfort

 

 

 

He didn’t think it would happen here. It shouldn’t have happened here. Why did it have to happen here?

Virgil had been visiting the mall, trying to get some Christmas shopping done. It should have been relatively easy; he was only shopping for his boyfriends, and he had a general idea of what he was getting them. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out trip with minimal meandering.

Key word: supposed to be.

He’d been in the food court, standing in line to get lunch when he saw them. Declan, Nate, and Remy. He’d hoped that he’d be lucky enough to not run into them, but honestly he should have known better. He should have known the universe would send his tormentors to the mall on the same day as him.

They hadn’t bothered him in a while since he was usually with Logan, Roman, or Patton; they were scared of the latter two and no one would dare hurt Patton. But today he was alone. He hunched in on himself and drew his hood up, hoping and praying to the universe that they wouldn’t spot him.

He should have known better.

Raucous laughter fast approaching makes Virgil cringe, his hands fisting in the pockets of his hoodie. A hand clamps down on his shoulder, and every fibre of his being is telling him to run as someone tugs his hood down.

Remy throws an arm over his shoulder, keeping him in place. Declan stands in front of him, Nate on his other side. “What’s that face for, Virgil? You don’t look happy to see us.” Remy pouts, leaning into Virgil’s side. Virgil stiffens.

“We’ve missed you, Virge. You’ve been spending all your time with your boyfriends.” Declan’s tone is sweet and a little sad, but his expression speaks volumes. Virgil is screwed.

They practically drag him to the bathrooms, laughing and joking obnoxiously, making everyone ignore them as they push into a family bathroom and lock the door. They turn on Virgil, who gulps. He should’ve just gone on Amazon.

Nate shoves him and he falls back on the tiles, catching himself on his palms and shutting his eyes tightly. Someone laughs, and a boot to his shoulder knocks him back completely. A kick to his ribs. A boot digging into his cheek. A stomp to his hip. Over and over until Virgil can’t tell up from down, left from right. All he feels is pain. After what feels like a lifetime of stomping and kicking and whimpering, they back off. Declan says something that Virgil can’t make out past the throbbing of his head, and the door opens and shuts.

Virgil lays there for another eternity before slowly, oh so slowly, pulling out his phone and sending a text in their group message.

Help

His ringtone blaring in the quiet room and e hoing off the tile floor makes him flinch and he rushes to answer. Patton’s voice squeeks out from his phone, which sits on the floor.

“Virgil! Are you okay? Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“Patton, if he is indeed in distress, perhaps questioning him extensively is not the best route.”

“Oh! You’re right, I’m sorry! Okay, first question; are you okay, Virge?”

Virgil breathes a little raggedy, silent for a long moment before responding. “Hurts…”

Patton whimpers. “What hurts, Virge?”

Another long pause. “Everything.”

“What happened?” Logan. Meaning Virgil upset Patton so much he couldn’t ask himself. He knew he shouldn’t have sent that message.

“Declan…. Nate… and Remy…”

“Hold on Virgil, we’re coming. Where are you, precisely?”

“F-family bathroom. At- at the mall.” Virgil’s voice cracked, his eyes heated with unshed tears. All he could think about was Patton’s fingers in his hair, Logan’s calm reassurances, Roman swearing with everything he was that he’d protect him. He sobbed quietly, listening as Patton comforted him over the phone, telling him that they were in the car, they were going to get Roman and be right over. He sounded like he was crying, too. Virgil didn’t want Patton to cry.

“We’re coming, Virgil.”

Fifteen minutes later, with Virgil fading in and out of consciousness, the door finally opened. Virgil whimpered and curled in on himself, shakily wrapping his arms around his head. Someone made an upset sound and the sound of rushed footsteps filled the room before Virgil was being moved, propped up against someone’s side.

Fingers in his hair, the smell of peppermint, and a soft voice. Patton. Someone gently took Virgil’s hands, running their thumbs over his knuckles and listing his visible injuries in a calm tone. Logan. Virgil opens his eyes as a kiss is pressed to his forehead to see Roman’s worried expression. Virgil’s breath catches at the sight, and he’s crying before he can take another breath. All three young men rush to calm their boyfriend, shushing him, petting his hair, reassuring him.

“It’s okay Virgil, we’re here. You’re safe now.”

Chapter Text

Tags: assault, i used Google translate rip

Part 2 to the first chapter

 

“Virgil, it’s okay. You’re safe now.” Virgil shook with the force of his sobs, limp in Patton’s arms. Logan calmly and gently stroked Virgil’s arms, trying to provide some form of tactile comfort, switching between that and gently holding Virgil’s hands in his own. Roman sat in front of them, taking in Virgil’s appearance. Virgil had a boot print on his cheek, bruises forming along his jaw and up his arms. His hair was a mess and his clothes were rumpled, and Roman had no doubt that if he were to look under Virgil’s shirt he’d find more bruises. 

“Yes, we are here now. We will not let anyone hurt you, Virgil.” Logan promised. Though he sounded as calm and collected as ever, Roman recognized the look in his eyes. Hurt. Anger. Fury. Maybe even a little fear. Roman understood that; if they could corner Virgil in such a public space, how could they ever trust that he’d be safe on his own? He didn’t deserve any of this, which is exactly why Roman hated leaving him on his own at school or out in public, but he’d insisted on coming here alone. 

His hands clench into fists, his jaw clenching. His chest hurt with barely-contained anger. “I’m going to make that sick bastard suffer for what he did to you.”

Virgil whimpers, and Patton shoots him a look, speaking quietly. Not because he was trying to keep it from Virgil, but because loud voices would probably just scare him more right now. “Roman, you know how he feels about violence. I don’t think now is the time for that, anyways.” He rubs Virgil’s shoulder, using his other hand to tuck Virgil’s face into his chest like a protective parent. Roman huffed through his nose. “Are you really going to tell me he wouldn’t deserve it? That- that snake, who attacked Virgil-”

“Roman.” Logan’s tone makes Roman’s voice die in his throat. Logan was just as angry as Roman, maybe even moreso, but the ever-logical young man knew when action was and wasn’t necessary. Right now, it wasn’t. Not while Virgil was still on the floor of this disgusting bathroom, hurt and afraid. Roman sighed. 

“Come on, we can bring him to my place. My mom will probably dote on him until he’s sick of it.” 

Patton grins and nods, whispering something to Virgil and slowly, gently guiding him to stand. Virgil whimpers quietly and leans heavily on Patton, making Roman’s heart squeeze. If it wouldn’t make Virgil freak out, he’d carry him himself. As it was, the four men walked slowly out of the bathroom and through the mall, Virgil hiding his face in Patton’s shoulder, his hand in Roman’s. 

When they finally make it to the parking garage and Logan’s car, Roman gently helps him into the back seat, where Patton sits beside him to let Virgil rest his head in Patton’s lap, closing his eyes. Roman gets into the passenger seat, no one telling Virgil he has to buckle up. They’re just glad he’s finally stopped crying. 

Logan drives ten miles under the speed limit all the way to Roman’s house, just in case. 

Virgil is barely conscious when they pull into the driveway, so Roman carefully scoops him up and carries him inside. Virgil’s breath hitches when he’s picked up, but as soon as he realizes who’s holding him he calms down, closing his eyes. Patton opens Roman’s front door for him, hands twitching with the need to hold Virgil, to pet his hair out of his face, hug him close. Roman smiles sympathetically and calls gently into the house, “Mamá, ¿estás en casa?” Roman’s mom turns a corner and smiles at her son, opening her mouth to say something before pausing at the sight of Virgil, her face pinching with worry. 

“Romano, ¿que paso?”

Roman purses his lips, glancing at Patton out of the corner of his eye. “Declan ¿Se puede quedar en la habitación de invitados?”

Roman’s mother nods and hurries up the steps, waving for the boys to follow her. Roman slowly ascends the steps, planning the murder of a snake.

___________________________________________

TRANSLATED TEXT:

“Mom, are you home?”

“Roman, what happened?”

“Declan. Can he stay in the guest room?”

Chapter Text

Tags: character death, heavy angst, car accident, grief, Human AU

 

He’s crying. That’s all Patton can think with his mind as muddled as it is. There’s a strange beeping sound, and someone’s gripping his hand really tightly. It’s not the person who’s crying; the crying is on the left, and the hand being held is his right. He thinks he’s in pain, but his mind is so fuzzy and it feels like everything is happening several feet ahead of him, not to him. Not in front of him. 

Patton opens his eyes slowly. Virgil’s the one who’s crying, his face hidden by his hands and his shoulders shaking. Why isn’t anyone comforting him? Where are Roman and Logan?

Logan is holding his hand in a vice-like grip, completely silent, running his thumb over Patton’s bruised knuckles. Patton’s whole body hurts. Why does he hurt? Come to think of it, why is he laying down? And why is Virgil crying?

Roman paces at the foot of the bed. He looks up when the beeping changes its pace, looking right at Patton. Patton opens his mouth to ask what’s going on, but his voice won’t work. Roman rushes over to Patton’s side, beside Virgil, looking down at Patton like he can’t believe he’s awake. Why couldn’t he believe it? Why was Patton asleep? And why is Virgil crying? 

“Pat, Padre, Patton, oh my god. Patton. You’re- you scared us, oh my god. They said-”

Logan’s choked voice picks up where Roman’s falters. “They said the odds of you regaining consciousness so soon were… very slim.”

The sounds of their voices, so choked with emotion and absolutely wrecked, makes Patton’s chest hurt. He wanted Logan to say ‘infinitesimal’. He wanted Roman to bring up the one time Logan misused the word so that they would banter, and maybe not look so sad. Why was everyone so sad? Where was he?

Logan, ever the observant one, responds as if he’s read Patton’s mind. “You’re in the hospital, Patton. They also mentioned that wh- if you woke up, you’d likely have difficulty with your memory and reasoning. It’s quite normal after… After…”

Now Patton knows something’s wrong. Logan never loses his words. Patton’s finding it hard to breathe. The pain is growing. Why is he in so much pain? What happened? And why is Virgil crying?

Patton gasps in pain when he manages a deep breath only for a crushing feeling to choke his lungs. Roman is alert in an instant, smashing his hand into a button and looming over Patton. “Patton? Love? It’s okay, just breathe. You’re going to be okay.” 

Doctors and nurses rush in, pushing the three men aside so they can get to Patton. They check the machines, the tubing, rip off the blankets and raise his gown to check bandages he didn’t know he had. 

Patton’s in so much pain. It hurts to breathe. He can barely see through the pain and he can’t think. Where’s Virgil? Why is he crying? What’s going on?

Roman holds Virgil tightly as the doctors and nurses frantically check over Patton, the three men absolutely terrified as they watch Patton gasp for breath, eyes frantic and unfocused. Roman guides Virgil’s head to his shoulder, hiding his trembling boyfriend from the sight. A look of pain overcomes Roman’s features as they raise his gown and uncover a massive bruise on his abdomen. He hears someone say internal bleeding. 

“I’m sorry I failed you, I should’ve been there.” 

The words are no more than a whisper, but Virgil hears them and holds into Roman tightly, like a lifeline, bringing Roman out of whatever quickly spiraling thoughts he’d started to follow. A nurse approaches the three men and practically pushes them out of the room as they prepare to rush Patton off to surgery. Again. 

As they wait in limbo, uncomfortable waiting room chairs making their backs ache, Roman occupies himself trying to calm and console an inconsolable Virgil. Virgil hasn’t stopped crying since he sat in the chair next to Patton. Roman doesn’t know how one person can cry so much, but he entertains the brief thought that Virgil is crying for the three of them. He and Patton always were the first of the group to have an emotional outburst, and, well….

It feels like years before a nurse approaches the trio and gives them the news. Virgil screams and falls to his knees. Logan thanks the nurse and sits in the chair he’d been occupying, face blank. Roman hugs Virgil like he might disappear and finally lets the tears fall. 

Patton Foster, age 27, died at 2:37 am from complications during surgery after being brought in from a drunk driving accident.

Chapter Text

self harm, blood, suicide attempt, panic attack(?), Human AU(?)

 

He sat in his bathroom, back pressed against the wall making his spine ache slightly. Tears spilled down his cheeks like they were weighted with lead, splattering silently on his jean-clad legs. His chest ached as he tried to breathe, his mind foggy. Sock covered feet dragged along the tile ground, pushing against it and slipping until they met the base of the toilet, then drawn back to his chest only to drag again, all in an effort to feel something. To release some of this pressure inside him. To make the space seem less small. To… to do a million things, and nothing at all. 

His hands alternated between aggressively hugging his arms and gripping at his hair. His thoughts seemed to spiral and yet be completely void at the same time, creating an overwhelming sense of drowning and being empty simultaneously. His hands slipped down his arms until one was pressing against the floor as if he could push it down and the other dragged ragged nails across bare forearms repeatedly. He couldn’t hear past the panic and psychological pain that was muting his senses, but he’s sure he’s making a racket. He needs to get a grip, to calm down, or someone’s going to find him and get after him for this ridiculous display. 

 He doesn’t remember how, but one moment he’s on the floor, feet and hands pushing like he can make the floor give way, and the next he’s standing on shaky - stiff, stiff from dragging and pushing and dragging like he can move the floor - legs to open the medicine cabinet, grabbing a razor and falling back to his rear, sitting once again against the wall. He pushes up the sleeve of his hoodie and brings the razor down to his wrist, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw as he presses it into his flesh and drags. 

He feels the tension that’s overtaken his entire body start to ease as he repeats the process. It burns, but it’s freeing in a way nothing else can hope to be. If he was in his right mind, that might scare him. Press, drag. Press, drag. Again and again until his entire right forearm is covered in bloody lines, some dripping onto the white tile below or soaking into his jeans. Logan won’t be happy about that. How hard is it to remove blood stains? He shakily switches the razor to the other hand and repeats the process on his left arm. 

Once it’s done, he drops his arms to his sides and lets go of the razor, his head leaning back to rest against the wall. It’s funny, in a way; he’d been so wound up just a moment before, unable to breathe and every muscle taut, but now he felt weak, his mind peacefully blank, his breaths coming slow and smooth. He closes his eyes, feeling dizzy. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s sat there when someone is suddenly banging on the door, jolting him awake (when did he fall asleep?). He sits up, looking around. There’s a lot of blood drying onto the tiles, and along his arms, but it looks like he’s stopped bleeding. He feels horrible when that thought angers and disappoints him. Whoever’s on the other side of that door is going to be furious with him for doing this. It wasn’t like he was actively trying to take his life, but looking at all the blood and feeling how dizzy he is, he can’t deny that that’s what he was doing. 

The pounding continues, and he finally registers the other’s voice. “Open up, I know you’re in there. Come on, you’re really starting to freak me out…. At least say something?” 

He reaches up with herculean effort to unlock the door, closing his eyes as his hand falls back to his side. The door opens and the other man gasps, the sound of knees hitting the floor making him open his eyes and turn to look at the other.

Virgil looks heartbroken, and terrified. His hands shake as he reaches out, but stops short, uncertain if what he was seeing was real. “Oh… Oh my god. Oh my god.” He springs into action, grabbing a washcloth and getting it wet in the sink, gripping one of his bloodied arms and carefully wiping the blood away, pausing just long enough to see if he was going to keep bleeding. When it’s clear he isn’t, Virgil continues cleaning his forearms, tears silently slipping down his cheeks as he works. 

Blood is smearing and seeping into the dark fabric of Virgil’s torn skinny jeans, and he wants to tell Virgil to stop, that he needs to move, but his voice doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. He’s so tired. His eyes close again.

Virgil looks up and gently shakes his shoulder. “Pat. Patton. I know, I know you’re tired, but- but just stay with me, okay? Just stay awake. Can you do that?”

Patton nods, opening his eyes. He could try. For Virgil.

Virgil finishes as quickly as he can, getting Patton’s attention before telling him he’d be right back. He opens his mouth to say something else, but seems to think better of it because he’s standing up and leaving the bathroom without a word. Patton keeps his eyes open, trying to keep his promise to Virgil as he waits. 

A moment later Virgil returns with Roman and Logan, sitting himself on the edge of the bathtub as the other two enter behind him. They don’t even pause to take in the sight before they get to work - Virgil must have told them - cleaning the floor and bandaging Patton’s arms. Roman uses the same washcloth Virgil had used on his arms to get most of the blood off the floor, but Patton knows it’ll take more than that to get the blood out of the grout. Logan methodically disinfects and wraps Patton’s arms, his expression blank. Patton isn’t sure what to say. None of them are.

Once that’s all done, Virgil wraps an arm around Patton’s waist and the four of them move to the couch in the living room, Roman wordlessly putting on Tangled (Patton’s favorite Disney movie) and soon the four are cuddled closely on the couch. Rapunzel is halfway into When Will My Life Begin when Virgil whispers five words that have Patton tearing up all over again.

“I’m glad you’re still here.”

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: swearing, magic, dumb gays, dumb nerd gays, D&D

 

“You asshole!” Logan spun around to face the man before him. He rose an eyebrow and adjusted the strap of his satchel on his shoulder. “Yes, Virgil?”

Virgil huffed as he stopped in front of his boyfriend, clenching his hands. “I can’t believe you would do this to me!” Logan sighed.

“Virgil, you were perfectly safe. Roman and Patton were there as well, in case you forgot.”

“They aren’t sorcerers, Logan! Patton’s a goddamn druid, and Roman is a ranger! We needed you!”

Logan rolls his eyes. “You made it out just fine without me, obviously.”

“That’s not the point! You left me! And I had to make a deal with some random ass temple demon to get myself out!” 

Logan took a step closer to Virgil, putting his hands on his shoulders. Virgil slowly calmed down. “Virgil, it’s alright. It’s just a game.”

Virgil huffs, looking anywhere but Logan. “I can’t believe you got me into your D&D nerd shit.”

Logan smirks. “Admit it, you were having fun.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Logan kisses Virgil’s forehead and moves to wrap an arm around his shoulders, walking with him to the car. “So are you going to quit, now?”

“Hell no. I’m getting you back…. Then I’ll quit.”

This was the 5th time he’d said as much. Logan smiles. 

“Whatever you say, Virge.”

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: talk of reincarnation, talk of other lives and religion, Patton has a heart condition and isn’t expected to live much longer, Logan just loves his boyfriend, stars, stargazing, next lives, no character death dw (well i mean its implied but not explored/mentioned)

 

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan turned his head to look at the man beside him, the breath leaving his body at the sight of the galaxies in his amber eyes. “Yes, Patton?” He asks breathlessly. Patton smiles and hooks his fingers with Logan’s. 

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

The question throws Logan off and he blinks. He takes in Patton’s carefully blank (yet somehow cheerful. Always cheerful) expression and thinks over his response carefully. “I’m not sure. Many people hold beliefs of reincarnation rooted deeply within their religion. Some people believe in it simply to find security in having a second shot at life. Scientifically, there is no evidence that it does exist, though that doesn’t mean that it does not.”

Patton smiles at Logan. He loves how Logan talks about…. well, anything, really, but especially science. Even if they’re discussing something like this, something more on the religious, blind-faith end of things, Logan never makes Patton feel stupid for thinking or believing what he does, or not knowing something. Logan is always happy to share what he knows, and he’s never belittling about it. Patton loves that about him. 

“Why do you ask? Do you believe in reincarnation, Patton?”

Patton blinks and looks back up at the stars, the hand not holding Logan’s brushing against the blanket underneath the pair idly. “I dunno… I think I want to. It’d be nice, I think.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“Because then maybe, in another life, I’d get to spend more time with you.”

A pained look crosses over Logan’s face and he turns to the sky as well, as though the endless stars above might hold the answers he seeks. “It’s… a lovely sentiment, but given that if it is real, no one remembers their past lives…. You wouldn’t remember me. Even if you did, I’d more than likely be in another body.”

Logan expects Patton to be hurt, somewhat. To ask why Logan had to rain on his parade or something as equally ridiculous (as he’s prone to do when he wants to mask how someone’s really hurt his feelings). However, he doesn’t expect the laugh that comes as a response. He looks over at Patton curiously. “Patton?”

“Don’t you believe in fate, Lo?”

No, no I don’t, he wants to say, but I’d believe in anything for you. 

“I’m not sure.” He answers instead. 

“That’s okay. I’ll believe enough for the both of us.” Patton kisses his cheek and the pair go back to gazing at the stars, lost in their own thoughts. 


Logan walked quickly across the grass, eyes glued to his phone as his steps sped along. He was going to be late to his class if he didn’t hurry up, and the campus map was taking too long to load. He didn’t look up once as he crossed the courtyard, praying silently his map would load and he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone to ask for directions. 

He was so absorbed in the screen in his hand that he didn’t notice the cheerful man heading right for him, chasing after a golden retriever. The golden retriever shot past Logan with a bark and Logan spared a glance to shoot the dog a glare before looking back at his phone. 

Suddenly someone collided with him and both parties were sent to the ground. Logan’s phone dropped out of his hand as his back and head met with soft green grass. He heard the other person hit the ground and opened his eyes, looking up at a nearly cloudless sky. The trees in his periphery were blurred, and he realized he’d lost his glasses. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

A palm brushes against his own as the stranger scrambles to get up, and a laugh trickles into his ears. Logan gets a strange sense of deja vu, a small part of his brain wondering why there aren’t stars above him. He shakes it off and sits up, propping himself up on the heels of his hands behind him and looking at the blurry form of the stranger why crashed into him.

“It’s quite alright, I am unharmed. Though I do hope you watch where you’re going next time.” He shifts to sit up more, his hands brushing through the grass in search of his glasses. The stranger holds a blurred hand out to him and Logan reaches out, feeling his glasses in the other’s hand and taking them to put them on.

Once he can see, he looks up at the stranger. He feels almost breathless as he takes in amber eyes behind glasses much like his own, a bright smile, and wavy light brown hair framing a soft face. Both men stand, and before Logan realizes what he’s doing, he offers his hand to the stranger. 

“Logan Abbott.”

The stranger blinks down at his hand, and for a brief moment Logan feels awkward. Did people not shake hands anymore? Virgil was always telling him he was behind when it came to-

The stranger hugged him, laughing lightly. Logan wished he could record that laugh and listen to it all the time. His cheeks flushed. 

“I’m Patton! Nice to meet you, Lo! Sorry for crashing into you again.” Patton lets go of Logan and smiles up at him.

Logan opens his mouth to reply when a memory tickles at the back of his head, words he couldn’t recall hearing dancing in his ear. 

“Don’t you believe in fate, Lo?”

Logan shakes his head slightly. Patton is still patiently smiling, waiting for a reply. 

“It’s…. quite alright, I assure you. I was actually just about to head to the cafe, would you like to join me?”

His inner voice screamed at him, telling him he had to get to class,what was he doing, Patton didn’t even know him-

“Oh, of course! You’re going the wrong way, silly! Come on, I’ll show you.” Patton took his hand and started dragging Logan in the direction he’d been running. Logan pushed his glasses up his nose, willing his blush away. 

Something told him he wouldn’t regret skipping class just this once.

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: angst, saddness, self-deprecation, happy ending

 

Normally when Roman awoke it was to the sunlight gently spilling onto his sheets and birds chirping through the cracked-open window. Normally, he would immediately open his eyes and let out a loud yawn as he stretched his back and arms. Normally, he would bound out of bed, have coffee and breakfast, then get ready for the day just as Virgil was waking up himself.

Today didn’t seem to be a normal day.

Roman felt consciousness creep up on him slowly. First, his dream melted away and he slowly became more aware of reality; his slow even breaths, the soft weight of his blanket covering all but his right leg from knee to toes, the warmth of Virgil curled up in his arms. Then he began to wonder why he’d woken up. He couldn’t feel the tell-tale warmth of sunlight on his face or bed, and the grogginess gluing his eyes shut suggested he was awake far sooner than he aught to be. Finally, a voice reached his ears.

Virgil’s voice.

Roman had to concentrate to hear it over the sound of the air conditioning, but once he did he was certain - even though it was painfully quiet - that this was why he’d woken up.

“Sometimes, I think you’re too good for me. Well, who am I kidding; it’s most of the time. You’re just… so cheerful, full of life, seeing the beauty and adventure in everything. I know that… I know that I bring you down. I know that I can be too much, and that I hold you back. I know you’d be better off without me.”

His arms tighten around Roman almost imperceptibly and Roman has to remind himself to keep his breathing steady. He doesn’t want Virgil to realize that Roman can hear him; as dishonest as it is, he knows Virgil would stop talking and never bring it up. He might even never do this sort of thing again out of fear, and what if this was how Virgil vented life’s frustrations?

That thought made Roman’s heart sink. 

“I’m too selfish, though. To leave you, that is. Sometimes I entertain the thought; what if I did what’s right and broke it off? Grabbed all my stuff one night and just told you ‘it’s over’ and left. Blocked your number so you could move on. But… what if I wasn’t so messed up? What if we could just be two happy people who went on ‘adventures’ and lived life to the fullest and saw the beauty in the little things? What if… What if you hadn’t met me?….. You’d be happier. You’d probably be with someone just like you, or at least someone who’s a better compliment to your personality. Someone who isn’t a chronic worry wart and who doesn’t get a panic attack when it takes you an extra ten minutes to get home because the freeway’s backed up.”

Virgil sighs. A small warmth dots the shirt on Roman’s chest and it takes him longer than it should to realize that Virgil is crying.

“It’s okay, though. We’re okay… right? Because… Because even if I’m selfish… You are too. You love me. I’m not stupid, even I know that. You probably wouldn’t leave me even if I started hitting you. I would never. Never. But… that’s just the kind of guy you are. It makes me sad sometimes. But also…. Also really grateful. That I ended up with someone who loves me, even though I can’t love myself.”

Virgil doesn’t say anything after that, and soon Roman finds himself drifting back to sleep. He hopes that in the morning he doesn’t forget what Virgil’s said; he wants to fix this, more than anything.


Virgil’s eyes squint in the sun’s light as he’s forced rudely into the waking world. He groans and rolls onto his stomach, hiding his face in the pillow to block out the light filtering between the curtains. After a moment of awkward open-mouthed breathing to get enough oxygen through the pillow, Virgil resigns himself to the fact that he’s not going to get back to sleep. 

He sits up, blinking tiredly at the room around him. His eyes take in his and Roman’s shared bedroom and he forces himself to get out of bed, toes digging into the carpet below his feet as he stands. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on as he shuffles into the hallway then on to the living room and kitchen, separated by a partial wall. 

Roman, as expected, is already in the kitchen. He stands over the stove, monitoring whatever he’s cooking as he hums to himself. Virgil pauses to admire his boyfriend in the morning light coming through the kitchen window, his tanned skin warmed by the sun and his hair capturing its rays, giving him a soft halo. 

Roman looks up and smiles when he notices Virgil, turning off the stove and walking over to the other, hugging him close. Virgil smiles and hugs him back, pressing a soft kiss to Roman’s neck.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

They stand like that for another moment before Roman pulls away, smiling a little wider and holding Virgil at arm’s length. “I made you breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Ro. I can make my own breakfast.”

Roman plants his hands on his hips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, I did it anyway! Come here.” He takes Virgil’s hand and leads him over to the table where his favorites are spread out. Scrambled eggs with ketchup, french toast practically buried in powdered sugar, a large soft cinnamon roll, and crispy bacon all wait for him. Virgil sits down, picking up a piece of bacon and taking a bite. He smiles up at Roman. “This is good. Thanks, Ro.”

“Of course, my love. What would you like to drink?”

“Coffee, please.”

Roman nods and grabs him some, sitting beside him while he eats. After a couple of minutes, Roman starts pressing soft, innocent kisses to Virgil’s neck and cheek, complimenting him after each kiss.

“So handsome. Kind. Wonderful. Smart. Cunning. Brave. Sexy. Admirable.” 

“Ro, not that I hate it, but what are you doing?”

Roman pouts innocently at Virgil. “Telling my boyfriend how amazing he is and how much I love him.”

Virgil laughs softly, shaking his head. “Can it wait for after breakfast?”

“Sure. After breakfast, I was hoping you’d like to watch some movies with me?”

Virgil blinks, confused. “You’re not going out?”

Roman shakes his head. “Nope! Wanted to spend the day with my perfect boyfriend.”

Virgil’s blush spread. “Uh… Sure. Okay. Sounds great, Ro.”

Roman smiled and pressed a kiss to Virgil’s cheek before getting up to set up their cuddle fort. 

He had a boyfriend to spoil.

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: okay I admit this was somewhat inspired by Hey There Little Red Riding Hood, some suspense, i listened to Mr. Brightside and Bohemian Rhapsody while writing this, what does that tell you about my creative process lol, uh blood mention, a wolf gets killed, crying

 

Patton walked through the forest, humming quietly to himself and swinging a picnic basket in his left hand. As he traveled further into the forest, the trees began block out the sun’s rays, the canopy overhead becoming more dense. Patton did his best to follow the thin trail in the earth, not wanting to step on any innocent plants. 

When he finally began to notice the growing darkness, his humming slowly faded to silence, choked down by a growing sense of paranoia. Patton found himself checking every looming shadow and squinting into every rustling bush. He shook his head, taking a deep breath. 

“Come on now, Pat! You know nothing scary lives here.”

Reassured by his own words (or at least pretending to be), he continued on his trek through the forest, having to focus a little more on where he was going with his minimal light source. His heart beat a little quicker as his thoughts ran away from him, imagining something large and… fanged…. watching his every move. He shivered and pulled his red hoodie closer to himself. 

A rustling came from behind Patton to his left. He turned to look curiously, thinking it was just another rabbit, when a large grey wolf leapt from the shrubbery. Patton cried out in surprise and stumbled back as the wolf landed in front of him and let out a growl, ears pressed back against its head. Patton felt the hairs on his neck and arms rise as he took a small, careful step back. The wolf’s growl pitched down and Patton froze, some instinct within him telling him that he shouldn’t move unless he wanted to anger the animal more. 

Patton looked around the dark woods for something, anything to defend himself with. The odds that the wolf was just going to suddenly calm down and back off were slim to none, and while Patton didn’t want to hurt an animal he definitely didn’t want to die, either. He spotted a felled tree branch off to his right, far enough away that he’d have to run to grab it, but close enough that he might reach it in time. The wolf took a calculated step forward, teeth bared and still growling low in its throat. Patton prayed he had luck on his side.

And he took a running leap.

The wolf leapt at Patton just as he came crashing down on the soft earth and plants. Quicker than he could consciously process, he grabbed the branch and brought it in front of him like a sort of barrier, clutched tightly in both hands. The wolf bit down on the branch, the wood hugging its teeth and keeping them locked in place. It snarled and thrashed its head in an effort to get free, yanking Patton’s arms to and fro in the process. 

Claws extended in defense cut into Patton’s arm, ripping the sleeve of his hoodie and drawing blood. Patton let out a pained cry and shut his eyes, heart pounding in his ears. He was going to die. He was going to be killed by some wolf in the middle of the woods and no one would even know. 

He whimpered and flinched when the branch started to splinter, succumbing to the force of the wolf’s jaw. Patton swore he heard another growl from his left, but with the situation at hand he didn’t pay any mind to it, convinced his scattered brain was playing tricks on him. The branch snapped, and Patton squeezed his eyes shut. 

A pained whimper, the sounds of bodies colliding with each other and then the earth, growls and the tell-tale sounds of conflict. 

Patton cracked his eyes open, instantly catching the sight of the wolf, rolling around biting and clawing at…

Another wolf?

This new wolf was easily two or three times the size of the one that had attacked Patton, with black fur and intimidatingly large teeth. It effortlessly took the grey wolf to the ground and kept it there. Patton gagged and had to look away as the black wolf tore out the smaller one’s throat, dying whimpers fading into silence. 

The black wolf turned to Patton, chest heaving and blood in its fur. Patton and the wolf stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, the human’s gaze locked in fear and the wolf’s in curiosity. Patton’s breath hitched once, twice. His eyes burned and his vision blurred. Then he was crying.

Rationally, crying in front of an animal who could kill him in the blink of an eye was a stupid idea, but Patton didn’t care. He’d nearly died and he was hurt and he just watched a wolf kill another wolf and all he’d wanted to do was surprise his friend Roman with a picnic. He should have just stayed home.

The wolf slowly walks over to Patton, its large paws snapping small twigs and crushing budding plants into the earth. It observed Patton as he cried, branch forgotten and face hidden behind his hands. The wolf nosed at Patton’s shirt, smearing the blue fabric with a bit of red before nuzzling him slightly. 

“Shh, it’s alright. I won’t hurt you.”

Patton screamed and scrambled back until his back met a tree, hands held up in defense as he continued to cry. The wolf continued to shush Patton as it approached him cautiously once again, and Patton found his eyes glued to the animal. Its mouth wasn’t moving, but it was still talking, trying to comfort Patton.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. I won’t hurt you, I promise. You’re okay.”

Patton blinked, sure he’d hit his head. The wolf sits in front of him, blinking at him as his tears slowed. Patton wipes his eyes. “You- you can talk? How is that even-?”

“Well I’m not actually a wolf, if that makes you feel any better.”

Patton opens his mouth to ask what it means by that but his voice died in his throat as a black mist rises out of the ground and swirls around the wolf, completely engulfing it. When the mist disappears, a man is sitting in his place. 

He has black hair that falls into his eyes, the sides and back shaved short. A black leather… collar, for lack of a better word, sits loosely around his neck, studded with dull spikes. He wears all black; torn skinny jeans, a large black hoodie, and a form-fitting black shirt, finished off with black converse. 

Patton feels his breath leave him when he looks into the other’s deep grey eyes. They almost distract him from the blood on the other. Almost. It’s all over his face, dripping down his neck and soaking into the collar of his shirt. The man seems to realize what Patton’s staring at and wipes at the mess with his hoodie sleeve, making a displeased face. 

“Eugh. Yeah, not my best choice honestly.” He looks at Patton again. “Name’s Virgil. You are?”

“Uh- Patton…”

Virgil smirks. “Nice to meet you, Patton. What are you even doing in the woods by yourself? And with no weapon?”

Patton feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I-! I was going to surprise my friend Roman with a picnic! He lives on the other side of the woods, and usually he’s the one who visits me but like I said I wanted to surprise him, and-”

Virgil puts a hand up, effectively silencing Patton. “Okay, okay, I get it. Why don’t I help you get to your friend.”

Patton smiles brightly. The sight colors Virgil’s cheeks. “Really?”

“Sure. Yeah. It’d be a waste if I saved your life and got blood on my clothes only for you to die as soon as I turn my back.”

Patton jumps up excitedly and holds his hand out to help Virgil up, not letting go once he does so. He starts walking in the direction he’d been heading, picking his basket up where he’d dropped it in the beginning of the whole mess. Virgil doesn’t say anything, his mind still reeling from the absurdity of the situation. 

The two walk for a few minutes in silence before Patton turns to Virgil, stopping to kiss a spot on his cheek free of blood. 

“Thank you for saving me, Virge.”

Chapter Text

Tags: selectively mute character, panic attack, comfort

 

He didn’t even know how it started, really. It had been a perfectly normal day, he wasn’t even that stressed since Thomas was on schedule with all of his work. The four sides were all in the living room relaxing, watching movies on a nice day off. Even Logan had joined them, despite claiming that movies were frivolous and a waste of time.

He looked around at the other three. It seemed a little silly to say, but he’d forgotten what it was like when they were all so relaxed. Patton got up, stretching. “Anyone want a snack? I’m popping popcorn.” The other two shake their heads, and he opens his mouth to reply but nothing comes out. No. What? He’s not stressed! He’s comfortable!

He bites his tongue and smiles, shaking his head. Patton shrugs and disappears into the kitchen.

Logan stands, adjusting his tie. “I believe I’ll be retiring to my room for the afternoon. I shall see you at dinner, Roman, Virgil.” The two on the couch wave and Logan disappears up the stairs.

He tries to focus on the movie, but thoughts keep pulling on his focus. What if he gets stuck like this? If there’s no reason for this to be happening right now, who’s to say he’ll regain his speech? He’ll be mute forever. He’ll never be able to give an opinion or help Thomas or do his job or talk to the others or laugh with them nd they’ll start to leave him out of conversations-

“Hey, you okay?”

He hears the voice, but at some point he’d closed his eyes as his thoughts spiralled. He opens them, taking in concerned brown eyes and faded purple hair. “Okay, good. Can you talk?”

He shakes his head.

“Shit, okay, right. Let’s just focus on breathing. You remember the exercise? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.” He tries his best to follow along with the counting, but it takes several tries before he’s even close to breathing normally.

Warm arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into a solid chest. He grips the shirt against his cheek like a lifeline, focusing on his breathing.

“Roman, I know you can’t talk, but I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’d never leave you on your own, okay?”

Roman nods and sighs softly as lips press against the top of his head. “Love you, Princey.”

Chapter Text

Tags: implied suicide attempt, talk of death, self-deprecation 

 

Everyone knew about the deadline. 

Not the one for your history paper, or that library book you’ve gotten three extensions on because you’re too busy to read it. No, this deadline was far more important.

This was quite literally life or death.

Of course, for someone like Virgil who’s constantly worrying and stressing over the things he says, does, and thinks, this deadline is like a glaring neon sign. Even sparing more than a moment to think about it is enough to make his heartbeat speed up and his breathing go a little funny. 

He had to do something “remarkable” by the time of his 25th birthday, or he would be killed. 

This law had been in place for so long that people weren’t entirely sure why it even existed, yet no one dared to question it. Instead, a majority of children’s time spent in school was dedicated towards finding their talents, or even just something that interested them, and figuring out what remarkable thing they could do that would be good enough to mean they could live a long, happy life. 

Virgil tried not to think about his own failures too much. All throughout his schooling he was taunted and teased and exiled because of his apparent lack of any kind of skill. Everyone was certain that he’d never meet the deadline. Even his own parents had resigned themselves to the fact that their only child wouldn’t have a 26th birthday. 

Once Virgil turned 20, the pressure was really on. Any friends, family, or even strangers with a big heart who took five minutes to talk to him tried to help him figure out something, anything to save him. The pressure was immense. It was crushing. It was depressing. 

Because he wasn’t good enough at anything. He couldn’t write some deeply impactful story, or paint a masterpiece, or lead a musical revolution. He couldn’t motivate anyone with insightful speeches, save animals from tragedy, or discover the cure for AIDs. 

No, Virgil was a bagger at the local grocery store. He owned a small apartment with minimal decorations and listened to music too loudly and never spoke unless spoken to. By 23 he’d resigned himself to his fate. 

On his 25th birthday, he’d been woken up by a phone call and listened to his mother cry. He spent the day indoors, not bothering to celebrate another year made around the sun. He watched Steven Universe and he listened to all of Folie A Deux, his favorite album, and he waited. 

Five years later, he’s still waiting, and he has no idea why. 

The past five years have been far more stressful for everyone than the 25 years before that. Everyone wondered - but no one voiced - if maybe there was some sort of bug in the system. Had Virgil been forgotten? It seemed like the ultimate kind of irony; so unremarkable the government didn’t even know he existed. 

He’d have nightmares several times a week of shadowed figures breaking into his apartment and taking him away to be executed. He’d wake up in a cold sweat, clinging to his blankets and wishing for death just so he could have a break. 

It was on the mornings after these nightmares that he always met up for coffee with his friend Patton. 

Virgil had met Patton when they were both just 16 years old. Virgil had bumped into him as they were both walking outside in the middle of the rain and offered to make it up to the other by buying him hot chocolate, and the rest was history. 

They became incredibly close. Patton was the only person in Virgil’s life who seemed absolutely sure that Virgil wouldn’t be killed, and he was always the one Virgil went to after the nightmares for this reason. Patton was the human equivalent of a ray of sunshine, and after one of those nights, Virgil needed a little sunlight in his days. 

It was on one of these mornings, over cups of hot chocolate outside their usual cafe, when Virgil had finally voiced the thoughts that had been plaguing him for five years. 

“Why am I not dead yet? It’s been… It’s been five years, and I haven’t done anything with my life. Why am I still here?”

He was only met with silence. Truthfully, he expected Patton to get angry, as he’s prone to do when Virgil becomes self-deprecating. He wasn’t expecting total silence. He tentatively looks up into the confused face of his best friend, bright blue eyes wide behind round glasses. 

“Virge… You mean you really don’t know?”

Now it was Virgil’s turn to be confused. He hunched his shoulders, using the stirring stick he’d been biting to stir his hot chocolate. “Know what?”

Patton’s expression melted into one of sad understanding. He sat back in his chair and smiled at his friend. “You did your remarkable thing when we were 16, Virge. The day we met?”

Virgil looks up.

“You saved me from myself.”

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: food mention, unintentional starvation (sorta?), uh i used they/them for Virge since they aren’t like conscious to tell Thomas what pronouns they’re using that day idk

 

Thomas hunched over his worktable, soldering metal together slowly and carefully, wanting this to be absolutely perfect. Virgil deserved nothing less, after all. 

Thomas wiped the sweat from his forehead and grabbed the next piece, ignoring the pain in his stomach. He’d eat when he was finished; he was so close. Just a few more hours. Just a little longer, a little bit more. He had to get Virgil back to their family. 

Thomas glanced across his workshop at the automaton sitting beside his Remy. He wanted to have Virgil nearby for a few reasons (to give motivation, design inspiration, keep him accountable) but the longer the unconscious automaton sat there, the worse he felt for his decision. He knew the other three still didn’t quite trust him (of course, Patton did) and he was keeping Virgil with him, where they were reluctant to follow. He was keeping Virgil from their family. 

Thomas shakes his head as his stomach growls painfully and gets back to work. He could make it up to them all by getting Virgil back on their feet as soon as possible. 

The door to his workshop opens, but Thomas doesn’t look up from his task. Judging by the silence, it wasn’t Joan, Emile or Talyn. He also felt like if the other three automatons suddenly felt like visiting him like this, they’d have plenty to say. 

That just left Patton.

Thomas looked up, confirming his suspicions as his eyes landed on Patton standing just inside the doorway. Patton smiles warmly at Thomas as the human straightens up and lifts his goggles off his face, letting them rest in his hair. “What’s up, Pat?” 

Patton rocks on his feet slightly, looking around. “Just checking in on you, seeing how you’re doing! This is a pretty nifty workshop.”

Thomas smiles. “Thanks. I’m almost done with Virgil’s key. I should be done in about,” he glances down at the metalwork on his workshop table, “six hours.” Patton frowns slightly.

“You’ve been in here for almost two days already, Thomas. Have you taken any breaks?” 

Well, he took a couple minutes to feel guilty for taking so long.

“Yeah, Pat. Of course.” He smiles. Patton’s frown deepens.

“Please don’t do that. You’re worrying me.”

Thomas’ smile fades, leaving a look of confusion. “Do what?” 

Patton gives him a pointed look. “Thomas, you look completely exhausted. You need to rest; your systems are making that weird sound again.”

Thomas blushes in embarrassment when his stomach rumbles, and Patton raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘I told you so’. Thomas looks from Patton to the key to Virgil, sitting inanimate. He sighs. “I just need to finish this. Six more hours.”

Patton shakes his head. “No, you need to take a break. Thomas, I know you’re trying your hardest, and the others know it too even if they won’t admit it. I’m already so grateful that you’re even doing this much. Please don’t harm yourself when it isn’t necessary.”

Thomas searched the automaton’s face. He pursed his lips, giving a small nod. “Alright. But only a short break, I’ve been keeping you all waiting long enough.” Patton smiles and nods, and Thomas wipes off his hands before following Patton out of the workshop. He glances at Virgil one last time before shutting the door.

Thomas got something basic to eat; a ham and cheese sandwich and a glass of water. He ate quickly before he decided that maybe it’d be okay to take a little longer on his break. Mostly, it was because Patton kept shooting him looks. Thomas relaxes on his couch with a sigh, closing his eyes. Just for a moment, he tells himself. Just until he feels energized enough to get back to the workshop. 

He’s asleep in minutes.

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: crying?, Human AU (i almost always forget that tag and im just so done with my own shit), virge says a swear

 

The movie had been Patton’s idea. Well, technically the entire movie night was his idea, but it was his turn to pick the movie now and he’d chosen A Dog’s Purpose. Of course he did. Virgil wonders briefly if Patton was aware that the dog dies, like, a dozen times. 

Seems like something that would upset him.

However, here Patton was, on the couch beside Virgil, completely wrapped up in the movie and still smiling like it was some light-hearted Disney flick. Virgil turned back to the TV, trying to focus on the movie.

He hated this movie, so freaking much. Of course, he could never say no to Patton. 

Patton only pried his eyes away from the TV when he heard sniffling. Concerned (and a little confused), he turned his head to look at Virgil, who’s eyes seemed a little watery. He frowns. “Virge? You okay? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

Patton pouted.  He continued to stare until Virgil finally sighed, rubbing his eyes. “This movie is just really fucking sad, okay?”

Patton blinked in surprise before smiling gently. “Wanna watch something else?”

Virgil shakes his head. “No, it’s almost over anyways.”

Patton nods, wrapping his arm around his friend. Virgil leans into his side, sniffling.

He hated this movie.

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: cuteness, dogs, dog puns

 

Virgil only had one thought as he walked into the living room that afternoon, frozen in the entryway as he observed the chaos around him.

It’s too damn early for this.

Somehow, one of the sides (more than likely Roman) had filled the living room - and consequently the entire ground floor of the apartment - with small dogs. Dogs of all breeds and colors ran about excitedly. Some sat calmly, panting softly and observing their fellow dogs. Most walked around or played with each other. A decent number were running around.

Okay no, apparently they had herd mentality, because a large group of them was running right at Virgil. Virgil screamed, momentarily blindsided by surprise to realize that these tiny dogs couldn’t really do much damage. As if to prove this point, they parted as they ran around him like river water around a large rock. 

Virgil didn’t know when he’d closed his eyes, but he opened them when he heard someone laugh. Patton stood in front of him catching his breath, and Virgil guessed he’d probably been chasing the dogs. Virgil takes a moment to breathe (really, they were like, a foot tall, it was stupid to get scared) before he speaks. 

“Pat, what the hell?”

Patton laughs again, shrugging happily. “I was feelin’ a little Maltipoo, so Roman summoned some doggies for me! All it took was a Keeshond the cheek to make old Pat happy again!” He gestured to the small dog in his arms at the latter pun, and Virgil rolled his eyes. Okay, yeah, they were pretty funny sometimes (that one was actually clever; he was so bad with dog breeds honestly) but this was all wearing on his nerves. 

Patton picks up another small dog, carefully holding him out to Virgil. “Come on, Virge! Puggle some puppies with me!” 

Virgil eyed the small dog with suspicion before carefully reaching out and taking him, holding him close so he wouldn’t fall. The dog wiggled around in his arms, tail wagging and tongue out, trying to get closer to Virgil to lick his face. Virgil pulled a face and held it a little further away. 

“Good news, Patton! I have conjured larger dogs!”

Virgil felt a spike of adrenaline that he can only describe as a Spidey Sense right before paws pushed on his back and sent him sprawling to the floor. The puggle jumped out of his arms mid-descent and Virgil came crashing down onto the carpet, smacking his chin into the floor. Whatever dog had just tackled him decided to sit on top of him and lick whatever skin he could reach, making Virgil shiver in disgust. 

Then it’s tongue got in Virgil’s mouth.

 

“I’M GOING TO MCFREAKING LOSE MY MIND!”

Logan looked up from his notebook, frowning. What on Earth was that about? 

Well, he was sure Roman and Patton would be more than willing to assist Virgil. He returns to drafting next week’s schedule.

Chapter Text

“I don’t know about this Roman…. What if people make fun of me? I mean… It’s not exactly normal.” Virgil picked at his cuticles, refusing to look at his partner.

Roman studied Virgil’s expression for a moment before offering a reassuring smile. “Come on, don’t you trust me? You know I would never let you in harm’s way.” Virgil looked up at Roman through his fringe, sighing. 

“Fine. Just don’t screw it up. Please?”

Roman’s smile brightens and he kisses Virgil’s cheek, digging through the small bag beside him. “Of course, darling. Trust me, I’m a professional. I’d rather die than screw this up.” He pulls a small bottle out of the bag, holding it up so Virgil can see. “I was thinking Royal Purple?”

Virgil sighed again and held his hand out, which Roman took gently by the wrist and brought the brush of the nailpolish to carefully trimmed nails.

Chapter Text

Tags: gay, messaging (idk skype or something), confessions

 

EmoNightmare has joined Study Group

EmoNightmare: remind me again why were calling this study group when none of us ever crack open a book

CalculatorWatch has joined Study Group 

CalculatorWatch: Excuse you, I will not be lumped in with the three of you. I am very studious.

PrinceofYourdreams has joined Study Group

PrinceofYourdreams: Studiously studying Virgils face maybe

EmoNightmare: oh my god

EmoNightmare: that wasnt even that good 

EmoNightmare: what the hell dude

PrinceofYourdreams: I bet youre so red behind that white foundation

PopStar joined Study Group

PopStar: now roman, be nice!

EmoNightmare: did you really change your name to popstar

PopStar: what can i say, i’m proud of my kiddo!

EmoNightmare: okay 1

EmoNightmare: not your kid

EmoNightmare: and 2

EmoNightmare: its just a nickname nothing to be proud of

CalculatorWatch: Can we please get back to the task at hand?

PrinceofYourdreams: Yeah uh

PrinceofYourdreams: What was that again

CalculatorWatch: We

CalculatorWatch: Actually, I am unsure. Virgil is the one who started tonight’s conversation.

PopStar: is there somethin you needed help with, kiddo?

PopStar: need help studying for english?

PrinceofYourdreams: Or perhaps math!

CalculatorWatch: Nonsense, he is proficient in math.

EmoNightmare: actually this is a personal thing

EmoNightmare: i was kinda hoping logan would be the only one online today

PrinceofYourdreams: Well I never!

PrinceofYourdreams: Dont you love me Virge?

EmoNightmare: as if princey

PopStar: now now, roman. if virgil needs to talk to lo about something, we should respect their privacy! 

PrinceofYourdreams: Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine

PopStar: youre gonna have to remove us, virge. otherwise we’ll be able to see your messages.

EmoNightmare: right

EmoNightmare: thanks pat

PopStar: love you kiddo!

EmoNightmare has removed PopStar from Study Group

PrinceofYourdreams: This is ridiculous

PrinceofYourdreams: Why not just make a separate chat for you and Logan?

EmoNightmare: hey your fault for getting on tonight

EmoNightmare has removed PrinceofYourdreams from Study Group

CalculatorWatch: Unfortunate timing aside, Roman is right. Why didn’t you message me privately?

EmoNightmare: i just didnt think it through okay

EmoNightmare: can i just say my thing before i chicken out or what

CalculatorWatch: I will never understand these ridiculous colloquialisms. 

CalculatorWatch: But yes, you may.

EmoNightmare: great

EmoNightmare: so

EmoNightmare: i maybe sort of

EmoNightmare: like

EmoNightmare: like you

CalculatorWatch: I find your company agreeable as well, Virgil.

EmoNightmare: no

EmoNightmare: ugh

EmoNightmare: how would you phrase it

EmoNightmare: i have romantic feelings for you

CalculatorWatch: Oh, I see.

EmoNightmare: yeah

EmoNightmare: and im taking this long pause as your answer so uh

EmoNightmare: no hard feelings?

EmoNightmare: we can just stay friends its all good

CalculatorWatch: I think you misunderstand, Virgil. I was merely taking a moment to process the situation.

EmoNightmare: oh

EmoNightmare: does that mean… you feel the same? or

CalculatorWatch: Yes. I apologize, you know emotional situations are not my… forte.

EmoNightmare: yeah no i get it im practically mid-panic attack

CalculatorWatch: Would you appreciate some help with your present condition?

EmoNightmare: yeah

EmoNightmare: thatd be good

CalculatorWatch: I shall be there in five.

EmoNightmare: but isnt your house like 10 minutes away

CalculatorWatch has left Study Group

EmoNightmare: oh my god

EmoNightmare invited PopStarPrinceofYourdreams to Study Group

EmoNightmare has left Study Group

Chapter Text

Tags: mentions of self harm, mentions of depression, swearing, suicide jokes

 

After the others had found out about Virgil’s depression and how he preferred to…. handle it, things had changed drastically. At first, they were walking on eggshells around him, carefully combing through their words before they spoke in case they “set him off”, immediately backing out of any conversation or situation he didn’t like, and reacting almost viscerally to any self-deprecating joke he made. 

That’s probably what annoyed him the most; how they acted when he made a joke that was too dark or cynical for their tastes. Logan would begin lecturing (or educating, as he called it) Virgil about all of his positive qualities, his cognitive distortions, and even better ways to think and act, as if he was some brainless child who couldn’t figure out for himself that no, he couldn’t in fact throw himself in front of a moving car. Roman, at first, would bodily drag him towards the front door with the intention of taking him out to “adventure the dark clouds away”, though thankfully Virgil always managed to get out of his grip before they reached the door. After that failed enough times, he just loudly refuted anything even vaguely negative Virgil said for the next hour. Patton was the worst, though. 

Don’t get him wrong, Virgil loves Patton, it’s just. He always treated Virgil like he was a kid, like he was fragile, even before all of this. Now, though, it was worse. If Virgil made a cynical joke, alluded to self harm in any way, or even just groaned and muttered “god I wanna die” Patton would burst into tears and hug Virgil like he was afraid the other would suddenly disappear. It was a little comforting at first, to know he cared so much, but it quickly got annoying, especially since a good 80% of the time he didn’t even mean whatever he said. He just had a dark sense of humor! Couldn’t they see that?

It had gotten to the point where one day, after repeating a joke he’d read on Tumblr and Logan began his lecture and Roman soliloquized loudly and Patton started crying, Virgil had snapped. He held a hand up to stop Patton before he could glue himself to Virgil’s side, glaring at the three men before him and (thankfully) cutting them off before they could talk over him. 

“Stop it! Just- stop. Seriously guys, I’m not a fucking child! I know they’re dark thoughts, I know how to fight them, and I was never even going to act on them! They’re fucking jokes! Look up the word joke in the dictionary! You don’t need to treat me like I’m some.. fragile… thing, all the time. I’m still Virgil. I’m still me. You can oppose my opinions and drag me to the store without being scared I’m gonna slit my goddamn wrists.” Patton flinched, looking at the floor. “In fact, treating me like this just makes everything worse, so just… Can we go back to normal? Can you start treating me like an adult? Like your boyfriend? Because if you guys keep smothering me and coddling me and acting like you’re scared of the very air I breathe then I don’t know if I can stay with you.”

That had devolved into an agonizing amount of apologies from the others, along with an excruciatingly long talk about their behaviors, and his as well, and how to better go about voicing their concerns with each other. It had given Virgil a headache, and he was tired by the time it was all sorted, but at least it seemed to have helped. 

Currently, Virgil sat on the couch, his side pressed against Roman’s back as he scrolled through Tumblr and Roman drew in his sketchbook. Patton and Logan were in the kitchen working on lunch, talking quietly among themselves. Roman started singing along to some Top 40 pop song that came on the radio, the sound vibrating through his chest and into Virgil’s side. He groaned, dropping his phone into his lap and tilting his head back, eyes closed in mock suffering. 

“I swear to god, Roman, if you don’t shut up right now I’m going to throw myself out the window. That’s 7 floors. Instant death.”

There was a brief moment of silence, where Virgil realized what he’d just said and his eyes shot open. He hadn’t even meant it. He loves Roman’s singing (just not the song), besides he wouldn’t jump out of a window

Patton pipes up from the kitchen, breaking the silence. “That’s one quarter in the suicide joke jar.”

Virgil blinked in surprise before a smirk broke out on his face. He stood up, masking his relieved sigh as a put-upon one while he dug through his pockets, pulling out a quarter and dropping it into the jar on the kitchen counter. That was something Patton had come up with not long after their long talk. He said once it was full everyone was going out for mani-pedis and lunch. 

“Think of it as you paying us back for making us worry.” He’d joked tentatively. 

Virgil had let out a small, quite chuckle, much like the one he was producing now as he sat back on the couch. 

“If they don’t have black nail polish at this nail place I’m yeeting myself into oncoming traffic.”

Virgil.”

“….Dammit.”

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: kidnapping, fear, implied torture

 

Virgil opened his eyes, head pounding, only to be immediately blinded by a bright light directed right at him. He squinted and tried to turn his head away only to find that there was a restraint strapped across his forehead keeping him in place. Virgil felt his heart rate pick up when he tried to move and found that he was restrained at the wrists, shoulders, hips, knees, and ankles as well. His eyes dart from side to side, hoping to catch something in the corners of his vision to explain where he was and what was going on. 

Last he remembered, he had been walking home. It probably wasn’t a good idea to head to the store in the dead of night on foot, but statistically you’re more likely to be hurt by someone you know than a stranger, right?

Virgil had never had very good luck, anyways.

“Ah, you’re awake. I suppose we may begin, now.” 

Virgil jumped at the voice, or would have if he could move. As it were, he flinched, his muscles tensing under the thick leather straps. “What-” He cleared his throat when his voice cracked. He could feel his heartbeat in the pulsing of his headache. “What is this? Where am I?”

A cold-looking man in surgical scrubs stepped into Virgil’s vision, adjusting a pair of latex gloves over his hands. “That is of little consequence to you.”

Virgil shivered, feeling cold. It was then that he noticed that he was shirtless, the only thing separating his flesh and the metal table he was strapped to being a sheet - convenient disposal? He hoped he wouldn’t have to find out. 

“I’ve been looking for something new to experiment on…” The man’s voice drew Virgil’s attention back to the present, his breaths coming quicker as a latex-covered finger traced from his sternum to his bellybutton. “I suppose I should thank some higher power for delivering you to me on a silver platter. Though, I am a man of science, not… mythology.” He moves out of Virgil’s sight, and Virgil hears him moving… something around. 

It sounds like metal-on-metal, and Virgil’s thoughts are immediately drawn to the worst case scenario. He forces himself to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. No, don’t be stupid. Remember what Patton always says? The worst case scenario never happens. Virgil opens his eyes as Logan walks back to the table with a marker of some sort and a scalpel. 

God dammit, Patton.

Virgil’s chest rises and falls quickly with his short, rapid breaths and his pupils dilate. The man watches with interest as Virgil starts to descend into panic, seemingly unaffected. After a moment, he takes the marker and begins drawing lines on Virgil’s flesh. 

The pressure almost tingles, and under different circumstances Virgil might even find it a little relaxing if he didn’t know what would follow. He tries to lock eyes with the man, tears burning in his own. 

“Please. Please let me go, you don’t have to do this.”

The man sighs as though he’s heard those words a thousand times - and maybe he has - before setting the marker aside, adjusting his hold on the scalpel before looking at Virgil. “I am perfectly aware that there is no force guiding me unwillingly to physically harm you. But you see, that’s the point. I know I don’t have to.”

He presses the blade to Virgil’s flesh, right below his sternum. 

“I want to.”

Chapter Text

Warnings/Tags: arguing, insults

 

Roman scoffs, crossing his arms. "Excuse me?”

Logan adjusts his glasses. “We aren’t even in the same book, let alone the same page. Your behavior, frankly, has been juvenile.”

Juvenile? At least I express myself!”

Virgil frowns, looking between the two. “Guys…”

“Oh, yes, because the only method one can convey their thoughts and feelings is by belting them with little regard for other people’s ears or patience.” Logan rolls his eyes.

Roman lets out an indignant noise. “I do not belt my thoughts and feelings!”

“Roman, come on, drop it already.” Virgil grimaces. If they don’t back off and cool down someone’s going to say something they regret.

“You are literally doing it right now. You’ve been raising your voice the entire time.”

“L, you know he’s just loud. Like, always.” Virgil grits his teeth. If they would just stop ignoring him-

“At least I’m not an emotionless robot!”

Shit.

Chapter Text

Warnings/Tags: blood, injury, death mention

 

Logan grit his teeth as he pressed a hand to the wound, blood seeping between his fingers.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.”

Logan looked at the tools he had at his disposal. Nothing he didn’t know how to use, but…

“Logan…”

“No, shut up, it’s fine.”

Logan picks up the knife in a shaky hand. “I need to… get the bullet out. Right…”

“Lo…”

Logan purses his lips and presses the blade to flesh, pressing and dragging. The cut is unsteady. Blood pools. Virgil lets out a pained hiss. Logan’s heartrate rises.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Virgil doesn’t reply.

Logan takes a steadying breath and digs his fingers into the wound, feeling nauseous. Virgil grits his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut.

Logan gets the bullet out and tosses it aside. He doesn’t want it anywhere near him.

“L-Logan…”

“I’m almost done, I promise.”

Logan manages to stitch the wound closed, though the stitches are jagged and leave the wound looking warped. He grimaces and starts banging it.

“…. This is the last time I let you pick the game. I’m gonna puke.”

 

Chapter Text

Warnings/Tags: slight nsfw?, more implied i guess, like there’s barely anything

 

“And so I helped, of course. It took all day to undo the damage those chickens had caused, but we got it done!”

Roman sat on Logan’s bed while Logan himself sat at his desk working. Roman had walked right in unannounced - not that Logan wasn’t used to it - and planted himself on his boyfriend’s bed, launching into a tale of the quest he’d just come back from.

Not that Logan had asked.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like to hear it some other time, but he’s very busy right now.

Their relationship was fairly new, and as such they’ve been spending more time together than usual and it had put Logan behind on his work (much to his frustration). He’d been hoping to use Roman’s quest and recovery time to catch up, but evidently he had more work than he realized. That, or Ronan had a quick and easy quest.

“Mm, that’s nice.”

“There were feathers everywhere. It took me half an hour to get them out of my hair and clothes! I didn’t want to track them into my room, you see.”

“Ah.”

“… You’re not even listening, are you?”

“Yes, that sounds quite interesting.”

Roman huffs. “Of course not…” He purses his lips in thought, grinning when an idea came to mind. He gets up and strides across the room to Logan’s desk. Without warning he grips the back of Logan’s chair and spins his boyfriend to face him, grinning. “Let’s have some fun.”

Logan sighs. “What did you want, Roman?”

Roman tsks. “Are you ever going to listen?” He climbs into Logan’s lap, straddling his thighs, and presses kisses up his neck. “I said, let’s have some fun.”

Chapter Text

Warnings/Tags: blood, death mention, injury, angst

 

"No! Come on, stay with me, please!” Virgil’s shrill voice seemed to carry into the empty night, filling the air with desperate cries. Panic seized his chest and his eyes stung with unshed tears as he clung to Roman’s weak form.

“M-my love, don’t cry. It’s- it’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

Virgil shakes his head. The feeling of liquid seeping into Roman’s shirt and dying his hand pressed to the wound makes him want to vomit, but his panic is suppressing the urge. “Stop- stop talking. Save your strength.”

Roman smiles pitifully, the sight like a knife to Virgil’s heart. “My love… My heart…” His breathing is labored, and Virgil can tell how hard he’s trying to keep his eyes open. Why hasn’t anyone come to help them yet?!

“P-please… Please don’t leave me…”

“Never.” The conviction in that word has Virgil meeting Roman’s gaze. “Even if… I should perish… I- I will always be… with you, my love.”

Roman’s eyes start to slip closed. In a desperate effort, Virgil shakes him by his shoulders, trying to keep the other awake. “No, please! Stay with me!”

Roman’s eyes close, and his body stills.

Virgil screams.

The applause is thunderous. As soon as the curtains close Roman is up on his knees, hands on Virgil’s shoulders and searching his face. “Virgil, are you-”

Virgil hugs Roman tightly, as if he’s afraid the other will disappear if he lets up for even a second. Roman frowns and hugs his boyfriend back, the frown deepening when he can feel how badly Virgil is shaking. “My love-”

“I-I know it’s just an a-act. I’m sorry, I’m- I’m being stupid…”

Roman’s shoulder becomes damp and he gently cards his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “You are not being stupid, Virgil. You got caught up in the scene because it hit too close to home, it happens to the best of us.”

Virgil squeezes him a bit before sagging against him, but Roman doesn’t mind supporting the smaller’s weight.

“And… what you said, about being with me even if you…” Virgil takes in a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not with you.”

Roman rests his chin on Virgil’s head, his heart squeezing painfully. “I know, my love.”

Chapter Text

Death Of A Bachelor

 

Warnings/Tags: lots of angst, past relationship, TV shows, it’s a little ridiculous, happy ending, some swearing

 

Logan had just come here for a nice cup of coffee, a peaceful atmosphere, and free WiFi. He hadn’t expected to see anyone he knew. 

Especially not him.

Logan had just sat down when the bell above the door chimed. He wasn’t really curious, but it seemed almost like human reflex to look over when a door opens. And that’s when he saw him.

His smile was just as bright as the day they’d met, and just as carefree. Logan hated how that smile made him feel. He hated that lighter-than-air feeling in his chest, and how his heart beat just a little faster. He hated that he still felt like this, after all this time. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched Patton practically skip up to the counter and tell the barista a joke as he orders his drink. Logan quickly turns back to his laptop, ducking his head. He prays Patton doesn’t notice him, or if he does he doesn’t approach. 

“Logan!”

Shit. 

Patton is suddenly at Logan’s side, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. Logan wished he’d forgotten that the other did that. “Hi, Patton.”

“It’s been so long! Oh my gosh! How are you doing?”

Logan sighs. “I’ve been fine, Patton.”

“Can I sit with you? It seems like there aren’t any free tables!” 

Logan looks around. Sure enough, every table is taken. Logan restrains another sigh. “Of course, Patton.”

Patton smiles and sits across from Logan, almost instantly beginning a conversation. Logan doesn’t really pay attention to what he’s saying, trying his best to tune the other out and get some work done. Occasionally he can’t help but tune in to a sentence or two, though it doesn’t seem like Patton is really saying anything of substance. He always was one for idle chatter.

“And I told her that I was really sorry, but….”

“So I had to leave! I don’t think they were very happy with me…”

“Anyways, that’s what happened, and I’ve just been waiting for…”

“But I guess people get busy! It’s okay.”

Logan sighs and sets his coffee aside. “Patton, would you care to join me somewhere more…private?”

Patton’s face brightened, though there was an undercurrent of nervousness that Logan couldn’t make sense of. He stood and packed his laptop into his satchel, then led Patton out of the coffee shop. For once, Patton didn’t try to make small talk while they walked, and Logan was left to his thoughts. 

He’d met Patton nearly a year ago. His friend Roman had convinced him to try out for The Bachelorette (despite being gay; Roman thought it’d be funny to see his gay friend on TV trying to woo a woman), and he’d actually made it onto the show. Patton had also made it onto the show, and when they weren’t with the woman (Logan’s forgotten her name) they were with each other. 

Logan hadn’t liked him at first. In fact, he didn’t like anyone on the show, but Patton had refused to leave him alone. He’d somehow wormed his way into conversation, and Logan had found that his initial opinion of Patton had been wrong. He was intelligent, kind, and completely capable of making sensible jokes.

Before he knew it, he was spending almost every free moment with Patton, even if they were on camera. He began to notice that the two of them were being recorded more often, though he attributed it to the fact that the other bachelors were dwindling. Logan had been watching Patton joke with one of the few remaining bachelors when he realized he was feeling strange. His heart felt like it was fluttering in his chest, and he got a light feeling in his lungs and stomach. 

It took him a couple weeks to realize what that feeling was, and when he did he was - dare he say it - scared. 

Little did he know Patton was going through a similar crisis in the middle of his date with the bachelorette. He was the guy everyone was betting on since he seemed to click with her so well, and he did like her, but he was just realizing that he liked Logan more. And well, Patton being Patton, that didn’t stay secret for very long. 

It had been one of the rare instances where the camera had left them alone, and the two were taking full advantage of the situation to talk about deeper things. They’d been talking on the couch with a movie on in the background, not paying attention to it. Logan can’t remember what they’d been talking about, but he remembers the way his brain had record-scratched when Patton blurted, “I really really like you and I don’t really know what to do about it but I don’t wanna win the show anymore because I like you more than Samantha!” 

Ah, so that was her name.

Patton’s rushed confession had led to a long discussion and Logan’s own admittance of feelings. They agreed to play their parts on camera, but every private moment was for the two of them. And it worked too, until there were only three men left. 

Logan didn’t get the rose. 

He’d hoped that wouldn’t be the end, that Patton would throw in the towel and quit the show with him, but Patton just gave him a sad smile and waved goodbye. Logan went home, broken-hearted. He’d convinced himself that Patton had lied about his feelings and had gotten together with Samantha. He had no definitive proof of that, however; he refused to watch the show. 

He didn’t want to see the man he loved get together with someone else.  

Logan was brought back to the present when the two men finally reached the park. He guided Patton to a bench far from the park’s paths to give them a little privacy, ignoring the slight feelings of nostalgia. Patton sits beside him, kicking his legs and smiling. “Soooooo, how’ve ya been, Lo?”

“It’s Logan.”

Patton’s smile fades. “Oh. Right, sorry.”

Logan adjusts his glasses. “And I’ve been perfectly fine, thank you for asking.”

Patton glances at Logan. “So, uhm… I guess you wanna talk about us?”

Logan takes a deep breath. If Patton needs it outlined for him in bold then so be it. “There is no us, Patton. You’ve made that quite clear.”

Patton blinks, confused and hurt. “I- what?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, Hart. You know, if you truly didn’t hold feelings for me, there was no reason you needed to string me along. I would have understood; we were, after all, on a television show where we were attempting to woo a woman.” His tone comes off a little more scathing than he really meant, but a hurt little part of him convinced him he deserved to finally let it all out, to let Patton know how he hurt him. 

“Wh- but I do-”

“Don’t. We agreed that if one of us got voted off, the other would leave as well. After all it would be incredibly distasteful to pretend to date someone else while the other was watching from home, wouldn’t you say?” 

Patton winces. “I-I’m sorry, Lo, I was trying to-”

“It’s Logan. My name is Logan. Only my friends get to call me Lo, or L, or any other asinine nickname they please, and you are no friend of mine. I was doing fine, really, and then you waltz back into my life without regard like you didn’t break my heart. I want you to leave. Leave me alone, and leave my life, like you intended to a year ago. Go back to Susan.”

“…Samantha.”

“Whatever.”

Patton sniffles and wipes his eyes, nodding and standing up. “Okay, Lo… I’m sorry.” He walks away, leaving Logan alone on the bench. 


Over the next few days, something about the encounter keeps scratching at Logan’s brain. For reasons he can’t fathom he finds himself searching for their season and bringing up the last couple of episodes. He watched the episode where Samantha chose Patton and the other male, and Logan was left rose-less. He watched as Patton gave a pained smile and waved goodbye, as the emotions he’d thought he’d hidden well were written across his face, and then that was it. 

He watched the next episode, watched as Patton explained that he’d met someone on the show that he liked, but it wasn’t Samantha. He watched Patton talk about this amazing guy who was funny and smart and kind in his own special way, how he made Patton feel like he was floating on air. He watched as he told the audience that he’d planned to leave the show with this guy but the night before he got kicked off he got the news that his grandma was in the hospital. He explained that he needed the money from being on the show to help pay the bill, and that if this guy still wanted to be with him, to please call him tomorrow night. The producer even let the TV guys put Patton’s number on the screen. And then….

“I love you so much, Lo. Please call me. I’m sorry.”

Shit. 


“Hello?”

Logan’s heart squeezed at the utterly dejected tone on the other end of the line. “Ah, Patton, I-”

“Wait, Logan? How’d you get my number?”

“I…. Finally watched the last episode. It was on the screen.”

“Oh…”

“Yes. I… I need to apologize. I was being incredibly selfish when I said all those things at the park, and I hadn’t given you a chance to explain your end. I was hurt, but that is no excuse for my behavior. I had no idea about any of that, and if I had, I would not have kept you waiting for a year. I am terribly sorry.”

There’s a brief pause where Logan can hear the faint static over the line and his heart lodges itself into his throat. A brief moment where his brain seems to work at maximum speed to make him paranoid and anxious. 

And then Patton laughs. 

It’s the same, full, joyful sound Logan remembers, and his anxious and fearful mood is fighting with the utterly in love one blooming in his chest at the sound. They then lose out to his confusion and he gathers the courage to speak up. “…Patton? Is everything alright?”

He giggles. “I just- you- I tried to- when we were having coffee-” More giggling. “I guess you still kinda zone out when I talk too long, huh?”

Logan’s face flushed as he recalled what he could remember of the conversation and connected the dots. “Wh- I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, Lo.” Logan can hear the smile in his voice, “You can make it up to me. Let’s say… 6:30, that little diner on Watt?”

Logan smiles, sitting in his armchair. “That sounds lovely.”

“Great, I’ll see you then!”

Patton hung up, and Logan spent the rest of the afternoon fretting over what to wear and what to say. 

He even showed up half an hour early, but Patton showed how well he knew Logan because he was there waiting.

And this time, Logan got the rose.

Chapter Text

Well... This Bites

 

Tags/Warnings: vampires, turning, trouble in… the nest?, idk, mentions of blood, i channeled my inner pre-Accepting-Anxiety Roman, Patton bites his wrist so if that bugs you maybe like, don’t read? idk

 

It had been Patton’s idea to turn him - he’d met the guy somewhere and seemed to really click with him, thought he’d make a good addition to the nest - and now that Roman had had a better chance to meet him, he couldn’t see what was so great about this guy. All he did was whine and complain! He was a total Debbie Downer, and Roman was quickly getting sick of it. 

Patton had invited him over to play some games on the TV, and this Virgilguy just… spent the whole time telling them they should look into the Lego Harry Potter game, or the Lego Star Wars game, or Lego Pirates of the Caribbean. Seriously, is he six??? What’s with all the Lego stuff? And what was wrong with Call of Duty? Or Grand Theft Auto?! Or Cooking Mama?!?

And Patton had begged Logan to go out and get human food that Virgil could eat, only for Virgil to turn his nose up at their Mountain Dew and PB&J and tell them they should get pizza! The nerve of this guy! As if they hadn’t spent their hard-earned money on stuff they couldn’t even eat! 

And sweet, sweet Patton had acquiesced, leaving the three vampires to make up their own excuses as to why they weren’t going to eat a disgusting, greasy, cheesy mess. As if Virgil wasn’t already looking at their humble abode with thinly veiled disgust. 

Apparently, Logan had seen whatever Patton had and when Virgil went to the bathroom, the two talked about when to turn him. Can you believe that?! They barely knew the guy and they were ready to throw themselves at him!

So when Virgil came back from the bathroom, Patton had been all nerves. Patton has always been like a bull in a China shop, but it’s especially bad in that moment. And he tentatively asks if Virgil might wanna move in with them, as if asking someone you barely know if they wanna live with you isn’t super creepy!

Virgil, thankfully understandably is dubious about accepting the offer, but after some convincing from Logan he decides that he’ll spend the night and decide in the morning. 

Roman can’t wait to get his smelly human behind out of his nest.

So they stay up all night playing games and watching movies (Virgil criticized every. Single. Disney. Movie. Roman wants to wring his neck). Virgil, being a lowly human, falls asleep somewhere around 2 or 3 in the morning, and that’s when the two vampires decide to strike. 

Since Patton knew him best, they decided he should do it. Logan carefully gets into position to grab Virgil so he can restrain him when he inevitably wakes up, and Patton mutters a quiet apology before he sinks his fangs into Tall, Dark and Sickly’s neck. 

Of course, his eyes fly open and he screams. Logan grips him tightly to keep him from thrashing too much, then after Patton’s drank from him he bites his own wrist and forces the bloodied skin to Virgil’s open mouth. Virgil spits it out - what a waste - and screams some more, and now Roman is really wishing he’d killed the pest. Virgil is swearing and threatening to call the cops, as if that would help him in any way. 

He calls Patton a psycho, and Roman sees red, but Patton doesn’t let him approach the human. The blood loss apparently gets to him rather quickly, because then Virgil is passing out in Logan’s arms. Patton tells Logan to move him to his room. 

Then, the night after when he finally wakes up, he won’t stop screaming! He keeps saying it burns, and he’s in pain, and make it stop. God, what a wimp!

Patton brings him blood to drink like the absolute angel he is, and Virgil won’t even touch it! He still insists on clinging to his human nature even as he’s practically drooling and can’t take his eyes off of the glass. He says, “I can’t do it! Please!” and darling Patton takes pity on him. He drinks the blood himself and kisses Virgil, then forces the blood down his throat! And Virgil is screaming and thrashing - as always - but Patton finally gets him to feed, and Virgil finally shuts up.

Hopefully tomorrow he’ll be less annoying.

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: uhhhh angst?, idk what else…., demons?

 

Virgil stumbles back, tripping over a carelessly-discarded t-shirt. He lands hard on his butt, never taking his eyes off of his friend’s face in front of him. 

Patton blinks, his black eyes changing back to their normal human ones with bright blue irises. He frowns with concern, taking a step towards Virgil. “Virge, are you okay? Did you hit your-”

“Get the fuck away from me! You- you demon! Freak!”

Patton flinches like he’d been hit, his face pinching with hurt. On any other given day Virgil would hate himself for hurting Patton, but now…

Now, this wasn’t Patton. This wasn’t his best friend. This was some lying demon pretending to actually care about him. How could he be so stupid?

“Virgil, I swear I-”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to hear it! Enough lying, just get out!”

“But-!”

Out!”

Patton’s eyes shone with unshed tears as he silently nodded and turned to leave the apartment. Virgil watched him go, only daring to breath when the door clicked shut. Then it all came crashing down as his mind caught up with his body.

Oh god, what did he just do?

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: hero AU, banter, hella gay, arch enemies to lovers trope, suggestive actions

 

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

Logan turned around just in time to see Patton land on the roof several feet behind (in front of???) him. He took in the sight of the hero in his light-blue-and-white costume, crossing his arms and finally turning his back to the police station just below them. “I thought that was fairly obvious, Heart. Though, perhaps with a name like that I shouldn’t expect crack-shot deductions.” Okay, was that harsh? Maybe a little, but Logan was still trying to get over the fact that he’d apparently fallen for Heart of all people somewhere down the line. It was completely illogical; they were polar opposites, not to mention they’re quite literally always fighting.

Patton Heart huffs and places his hands on his hips. “And with a name like Logic I should’ve expected you to be so mean and cold! But here we are I guess.” He pouts, shifting his stance and cocking his hip a little. Logan’s eyes are immediately drawn to the motion. “So what’ll it be? Are you gonna fight me, or run away?”

Logan Logic raises an eyebrow with a slight smirk. “As if you could honestly beat me in a fight, Heart. You’re much too soft.”

Heart returns Logic’s smirk with his own devious little grin. “It sounds to me like you’re just scared of being caught in a pair of handcuffs.” He shifts his stance again and the cuffs on his belt rattle quietly as if to prove a point.

Logic chuckles. “I’m not afraid of a pair of handcuffs.” Something about his expression and the tone of his voice has Heart’s face heating up, and he just knows he’s blushing. 

He sticks his tongue out. “Meanie. You didn’t even answer my question!”

Logic quirks an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder at the police station, watching cops come and go, a couple of them chatting in the parking lot. “I believe I have more important matters to attend to.” He turns his back on Heart, reaching into his utility belt for a gadget. 

“Wh- fight me!”

The tone sounds so indignant that Logic can’t help but turn to look at the hero again, the surprise evident on his face even through his mask. “But… You’re so small…” 

Heart marches up to Logic, grabbing him by the hood of his costume and pulling him close until they’re practically flush against each other. “Still think I’m soft, Logic?” With the utterance of the villain’s name, he presses their hips together. Logic looks down at the shorter hero, feeling his own cheeks heat up. 

Seriously, why this guy???

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: majyks, I guess, parental/familial LAMP, Daddy Logan (basically), crying, self neglect

 

Logan knew that, in theory, it was dangerous for any one of them to spend too much time in another side’s room. He knew that they were tailor-made for their specific functions, and that having such a heavy concentration of their respective aspects was detrimental to any of the other three. That being said, he’d never been able to see just how bad it could get. 

They weren’t stupid; they knew staying in each others’ rooms was dangerous, so they never did for long. Of course, today seemed to be an exception as Logan had recruited Roman and Virgil to help him and their task was taking longer than anticipated. 

Patton had essentially locked himself in his room the day prior, choosing to ‘take a stroll down memory lane’ as the saying goes. Originally Logan had had no issue with that, seeing as a little nostalgia wasn’t a bad thing, but when Patton refused to come out even for their FamILY Dinner™ and - as far as Logan could tell - hadn’t gone to bed, Logan had resolved to pry him out of his emotionally-driven spiral. 

They’d gotten into Patton’s room easily enough; after all it wasn’t like he ducked (quack) out. They’d found him sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by dozens of photo albums and old toys, watching home videos on a television that was clearly only in use for the nostalgia of it, seeing as it was quite outdated. Crumpled tissues were scattered around him as well, causing the other three sides to share a worried glance. 

“Patton?” Virgil was the first to speak, taking a careful step closer. Patton paused the video and smiled up at Virgil, waving at him. 

“Hey, Virge! Wanna watch some videos with me?”

Virgil glanced from Patton to the TV and back. “Uh… Maybe later, okay? You’ve been in here a while, I think it’d be a good idea for you to take a break. You gotta eat, and probably take a nap?” He added on tentatively, catching Logan’s approving nod from the corner of his eye. 

Patton frowned, looking back at the frozen face of child Thomas laughing at something off-camera. “But…” 

“Come on, Padre. You need a break.”

Patton looked over Virgil’s shoulder at Roman. “But- oh! Can we watch one more, please? We can watch Thomas’ first play! I know you love that one.” He grinned.

Roman had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. He sighed fondly and walked over to Patton, settling in beside him as Patton changed the tapes. “Fine, but after this one, we’re done.”

“Yay!”

The two sides had been all but oblivious to Virgil and Logan, shrugging off their exasperation and their insistence that they turn the TV off. Of course, inevitably, one video turned into two, which turned into four, and with Virgil unwilling to leave Logan on his own he’d been reduced to sitting by the door, anxiously picking at his cuticles. Logan sighed, rubbing the space between his eyebrows as Patton got up to put on another video.

“Patton, it is time for a break. Now. You are neglecting your health and I will not stand idly by while you do so, endangering the others and Thomas.”

Patton looked up from where he had been about to put another VHS tape in, an upset frown on his face. “Lo, it’s fine. Nothing bad is gonna happen, just stop it.”

The scene had reminded Logan of their Moving On video, and Logan had clenched his jaw shut in frustration. Must he be ignored and forced to leave each time emotions rose? He had opened his mouth to reply when a sound just behind him caught his attention. 

A quiet little sniffle, followed by a whimper that sounded as if it came from a child.


And that was how Logan had gotten here, in the commons of the mind palace with three toddler sides. Evidently, if one stayed too long in Patton’s room, it reduced them to childhood both in body and mind. Seeing the other two had caused Patton to externally regress as well, leaving Logan to scoop up and all but drag the three out of the room. 

Virgil refuses to let go of Logan’s pants leg, his crying finally reduced to the occasional sniffle or hiccup. At least Logan had that going for him. He’d given Roman a coloring book as soon as they’d set foot in the commons, and the excitable toddler had flopped down on his stomach to start coloring, where he still laid an hour later. Logan sighs as he watches Roman. At least they were all easier to manage as children than adults.

A crash from the kitchen catches Logan’s attention, and it’s only then that he realizes that Patton isn’t on the couch where he left him. Spongebob plays on the TV, Logan’s choice distraction for Patton that had apparently failed. Seeing as Virgil refused to leave Logan’s side, Logan decided it would be easiest to pick him up, settling the toddler against his hip as he rushes into the kitchen. 

Patton stands in front of the open fridge, an opened container of strawberries upended onto the floor. He sniffles, eyes wet with tears, and Logan crouches down next to him. “Patton, what are you doing in the kitchen alone?”

Patton looks up at Logan. “I-I wanted a stawberry…”

Logan sighs. “And you decided to try to get them by yourself, rather than ask for my help, why?”

Patton looks down, his fingers twisting together anxiously. “I… didn’t wanna bug you…”

Logan purses his lips. Patton was still just as perplexing as a child, it seemed. How illogical, to worry about ‘bugging’ him. “Patton, I would prefer if you asked for help with things like this.”

Patton nods, sniffling again. “Sorry, LoLo…”

Logan picks up the container and shuts it, most of the strawberries still inside thankfully. “No matter. Please throw those strawberries in the trash and go back into the living room.” Patton nods sadly and throws away the few that hit the ground, only brightening up once Logan handed him a strawberry from the container before putting it away. He joins Logan in the living room, Virgil squirming out of Logan’s hold to sit next to Patton and cuddle up with him.

Wait… Where did Roman go?

Logan bites back a frustrated groan and begins his search. He checks the entirety of the commons before making his way to Roman’s room, figuring it was the best place to begin. He just hoped the toddler hadn’t slipped into the imagination.

Logan opened the door to find Roman standing on his bed, sheets half on the floor and a wooden sword in hand, pretending to fight… something. Logan sighs through his nose and watches Roman for a moment before speaking up. “Roman.”

Roman jumps in surprise, looking over at Logan. His eyes widen and he drops the piece of wood, looking down. “Sorry, Lo….”

“If you are already apologizing, then I suspect you know what I was going to say.”

Roman nods. “I wasn’ bein’ safe. Sorry…” 

Logan gives a small approving nod and steps aside. “Let’s go back to the commons.”

Roman followed behind Logan, holding onto his fingers. They made it into the commons to find… Virgil crying, again? 

God, Logan was so tired, and this had only been going on for an hour. “What happened?” 

Patton looked up from where he was still sitting beside Virgil. “Vee says he’s real tired but he’s scared to sleep.”

Logan frowns slightly and walks over to the couch, crouching in front of the pair. “Why is that, Virgil?”

The crying toddler wipes his eyes with his fists. “I-I don’- don’ wan’ the monsers to g-get me in m-my sleep.” 

“Monsters…?” Goodness, even Virgil made less sense as a child. Why couldn’t this be easy? “Virgil, there are no such things as monsters.” When Virgil continued to cry, Logan caved in. “Alright, alright. Would it aid you in sleeping to have someone with you?” Virgil nods, sniffling, and Logan is struck with an idea. “Actually… Let’s all take a nap, alright?”

It doesn’t take him long at all to summon a few blankets and pillows and to get the three toddlers settled on the couch for a nap. Virgil and Patton are laying so their heads are next to each other, holding each other’s hands, and Roman is already asleep within minutes. Logan sighs, settling into his armchair as the other two finally drift off. 

Hopefully they would be back to normal by the time they woke up.

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: character with bpd, Virgil has bpd, Virgil is aroace but Pat is pan, jealousy, fighting?, Patton is nonbinary, angst & comfort, slight fluff, QPR

 

Virgil kept trying to tell himself he was being ridiculous, that this was just the bpd talking and he was fine. Patton was allowed to have friends, and they were allowed to talk to other people. They had talked extensively, they set clear boundaries, Patton agreed they were exclusive. He had absolutely nothing to worry about.

They hate you. You’re keeping them chained to you; no romance, no real love, no sex. Your brain is broken. You’re clingy, moody, you distance yourself too much. They probably think you hate them. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if they had someone on the side, so they can at least have something to look forward to when they wake up in the morning. You

His thoughts stop when the front door opens and Patton calls through the apartment. Virgil takes a deep breath and smiles, standing up when Patton walks into the living room. “Hi baby, how was your day?” 

Virgil wraps his arms around Patton and tucks his face into Patton’s shoulder. “Fine.” 

Patton’s smile drops slightly. They know what that means. “What’s wrong, Virge?” Virgil just sighs and hugs Patton a little tighter. “Viiiiirge, come on. Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing, Pat.” You’re annoying them they think you hate them you’re manipulative just like your mo-

“See I don’t think so. You can trust me, Virge. You can tell me anything. So, please?”

Just tell them just get it over with just like a bandaid they’ll hate you either way just spit it out you fucking- “Are you seeing someone behind my back?” 

Virgil can feel Patton stiffen slightly and it feels like his whole world is crumbling. “What? Virgil, no, I would never. I love you.” You better you selfish asshole after everything I’ve done everything we’ve been through if you ever fucking cheated on me- “Where did this come from?”

Virgil takes a step back. The fire that had barely been sparking in him is already dying and he can’t look Patton in the eyes but he needs to push through this, to prove to his stupid brain that he’s being an idiot, Patton loves him, and it should shut up. “Jackie. She called while you were gone.”

At first, Patton just looks confused. Their eyebrows are drawn together and they tilt their head in that cute, subconscious way that tells they have no clue what’s happening. “Jackie from work?” Virgil nods. Patton chews on their lip and looks around as if the answer might pop up on the TV, or on the book shelf. They blink. “Oh! Right, Jackie.” They sigh. Virgil tenses. “Virge, she… I keep telling her to stop with the nicknames, but some people are just like that. Like how I call everyone kiddo. And we got assigned this presentation to do at work, I gave her the home phone in case I didn’t answer my cell. I’m sorry, honey, I promise nothing is happening between u-”

“I want you to stop talking to her.” Virgil bites his tongue as soon as the words leave his mouth. That’s so not cool. No, that’s manipulative and controlling and Patton is allowed to talk to other people, he needs to back off. By the look on Patton’s face, it seems like they know what Virgil’s thinking. 

“Wanna try that one again?”

Virgil nods, clenching his fists and looking down. “I… Feel insecure knowing you’re around someone who talks to you like that… I would prefer you didn’t hang out with her, but I know it’s because of work and you’re allowed to talk to whoever you want…. I know you love me, and I love you, and the thoughts in my head are…… Are wrong….” It feels like trying to walk through molasses. The words are hard to get out, and at first he wants to shut up and deny it and start a fight so he can feel better about being angry, but… But they’re working on this. That’s the whole point. Picani told him this wouldn’t be easy and Patton said they’d be there every step of the way. Virgil just had to believe that. 

Patton smiles and kisses Virgil’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Virge. I love you so much. I’m gonna talk to Jackie again about the nicknames, ‘cause they kinda make me uncomfortable too. Okay?” Virgil nods, letting his forehead fall to Patton’s shoulder. Patton cards their fingers through Virgil’s hair. “Anything you want, within reason. Ask, and it’s yours.” 

“Can we cuddle and eat icecream?”

Patton laughs softly. “Of course, bean.”

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: Deceit (obv), deception, lying, first part is before SvS, the second part is after, hurt, angst, poor L, impersonation mention, self doubt

 

Logan paced the length of his room in a measured staccato. The same thoughts were rushing through his mind as always, growing louder the longer he put them off. They were practically screaming at him, demanding attention, demanding action, and he was about to finally acquiesce. His heavy, rushed footfalls were muffled only by the carpet under his feet.

He would do it.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

He was finally going to confront them.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

He wasn’t a joke.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

They were going to listen to him.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

He was Logic. He needs to be taken seriously.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

A knock at the door disrupts his rhythm and he grimaces. He takes a deep breath to center himself and his pacing resumes, Logan calling out, “Come in.” 

Deceit opens the door, waiting for Logan to turn in his pacing and notice him. Logan should have figured; Deceit is the only side that bothers to knock instead of just sinking into his room unannounced. Deceit makes his way over to Logan’s bed, sitting at the end of it criss-cross, his eyes following Logan’s movements. 

“So, today’s the day?”

Logan grunts in response. Deceit barely holds back a sigh.

“And just what exactly are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get them to take me seriously. I will make them see reason. I’ll… appeal to their characters; be amiable yet stern, gentle yet forthright. I’ll-”

“And you really think that will work?” 

Logan stops his pacing to look at Deceit, who’s resting his chin in his hand, studying Logan. He frowns slightly, crossing his arms. “It is a fool-proof plan. I should know; I thought of it.”

Deceit smirks. “Ah, yes. And we all know that every plan you concoct has never failed. You always get what you want. Logic is always a driving force.” 

Logan tenses at Deceit’s words. “Then how would you suggest I go about it?”

Deceit straightens up with a smirk, adjusting his gloves. “Oh, I’ve thought all about it. I have just the plan.” When Logan merely raises an eyebrow in response, Deceit continues. “Let me take your place.”

“And why would you thi-”

“Just think about it.” Logan’s mouth snaps shut. “When I tried to take Patton’s place, you all got up in arms the moment you realized who I was. When Patton came back, he was showered with affection, and everyone realized why it’s so important for him to be there. And really, ever since then you all have put him on a bit of a pedestal. I’ve no doubt the same would happen if their precious LoLo was mysteriously replaced with the villainous snake.”

Logan studies Deceit’s face for a moment before he finally speaks up. “Why are you so willing to assist me with this endeavor? What do you get out of it?”

Deceit rolls his eyes. “Oh, Logan. Come now, you’re no fool. You know exactly what I get out of this.”

Logan sighs softly, giving a curt nod and looking away. He comes to a decision, nodding again. “Alright, fine. Do it.”

Deceit grins. “Trust me. This will work.”

And then he was gone.



Logan sinks into his room, barely holding himself together. He loosens his tie with harsh, jerky movements and pulls it off, throwing it onto his desk. He bars his room from entry to other sides and throws himself into his desk chair. 

“Logan.”

God dammit.

Logan spins around in his chair, looking up at Deceit who stands near the foot of his bed. If Logan didn’t know any better, he’d say Deceit looked… regretful. 

“What do you want, Deceit?”

“I came to check on you.”

Logan stands up, carding a hand through his hair. “Why, so you could be sure I was in a compromised state before you began your unendurable gloating? So you could rub it in my face that the other sides don’t need or want me? Because I know! I know they don’t want me, I was there! I heard everything! Of all the Sides, I am the least favorite. I’m a ‘buzzkill’, an annoyance. They can get by just fine without me, as you so flawlessly proved today! So thank you, Deceit, for making your point ad nauseum.” 

Logan falls back into his chair once again and turns to face his desk. He puts his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands and takes a shaky breath. The silence is tense, and dare Logan say awkward as Deceit continues to stand there silently. The logical side sighs. “Just… Go away, Deceit. You got what you wanted.”

The sound of Deceit sinking out is the last thing Logan hears. 

He’s alone.

 

Chapter Text

Tags/Warnings: mentioned car crash, accident, injury, injured character, hospitals, confusion, memory loss

 

“Now, he hasn’t been awake for long, so there will be some confusion; he’ll be disoriented, his memory may be fuzzy or missing pieces. He’s being given some medication for the pain, and the anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet.”

Patton nods as he walks alongside the doctor, trying to process and avoiding walking into nurses, patients, and family as they make their way through the hospital. “But he’s awake?” 

The doctor nods. “Yes, he’s awake. I can’t promise any deep conversation, but you can see him.” 

Patton smiles as he enters Logan’s room, the doctor leaving to attend to other business. Logan sits propped up in the hospital bed with his eyes closed, a scrape on the left side of his forehead the only sign of the car crash he’d been in. At least, from above the sheets. 

“Lo?”

Logan slowly opens his eyes, a small smile appearing on his face once he processed who he was looking at. “Patton.”

Patton moves to sit beside Logan’s bed, smiling at his husband and taking his hand. “How ya feeling?” Logan looks across the room at the whiteboard, tracing the writing.

“I’m…. Tired.”

Patton kisses Logan’s cheek. “You did just wake up, so it’s understandable.”

Logan looks at Patton with furrowed eyebrows, confusion clear on his face. “Why did you do that?”

Patton tilts his head. “Do what?”

“Kiss my cheek.”

Patton frowns slightly. “I always do that Lo, don’t you remember?”

Logan shakes his head, looking down at their hands. It’s another moment before he speaks up again. “Patton?”

“Yeah, Lo?”

“When did you get married?”