Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You can’t go back.

Virgil trekked through the darkening maze of the lower mindscape, ignoring the fear clawing at his gut. He couldn’t turn around, couldn’t go forward, couldn’t stay put, and the feeling of hopelessness was getting grating. Might as well try and save his own skin, and choose the option most likely to result in acceptance.

The Light Sides wouldn’t want him now. Virgil knew how they felt about dark sides, he knew how they felt about keeping secrets, and Virgil was double guilty. There was only one place left to go. There was only one person who could make him feel better.

At a price, always at a price.

All he could hope was that they would take him back and pretend his betrayal never happened. Or at least, punish him and let him stay. He’d do whatever it took. He just wanted to be held again, one way or another.

They can’t forgive that.

The Dark side of the mindscape was always a bit darker, and was decorated to suit the less commonly seen side’s taste. And, formerly, Virgil’s.

He tried not to notice the absence of spider webs and grey.

Nobody wants you back. Leave. Run. Go.

He couldn’t. He’d gotten too used to the pampering, the attention, the love, and now he needed it. The only way to get back the affection…

Virgil stopped in the middle of the main common room. It looked like it always had, he supposed, minus everything he’d put up. It was like he never existed, and the thought sent a shiver down his spine.

Maybe they really didn’t want him back. Maybe he had no chance. Maybe he could just leave before anyone found him.

“Viiiiirgiiiiiiil~”

Patton worried the edges of his sweater sleeves between his teeth and suppressed the urge to cuss.

“Nothing? No sign of him? At all?”

Roman shook his head dejectedly. “He definitely didn’t pass through the Imagination.”

“And,” Logan added, adjusting his glasses to hide the redness under his eyes, “I have found no sign of him in the mindscape.”

“Thomas hasn’t seen him either,” Patton whimpered, “But he said he still feels anxiety.”

Logan gave Patton a sympathetic look. “At least he hasn’t ducked out.”

“Yes!” Roman nodded enthusiastically. He looked like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it, biting his tongue.

Patton slowly sat on the couch, eyes unfocused.

He was gone. Virgil had left. They weren’t going to find him. He’d failed. Patton had failed Virgil. He promised to protect him, and Virgil was so scared, he ran away.

Roman and Logan exchanged a knowing look.

As carefully and slowly as he could, Logan approached Patton, and dropped to his knees in front of the moral side. Resting his head on Patton’s knees, Logan looked up at him as coyly as the logic-based side could manage.

The effect was immediate, like flipping a switch.

Patton straightened up, and buried his hand in Logan’s hair, pulling hard enough that he jerked the left-brained side’s chin off his knees.

Roman settled on Patton’s side, wrapping his both arms around the other’s arm, and nestling his face against the moral side’s neck.

“Can we make you feel better, Daddy…?”

Virgil clutched at the silky sheets under him, twisting them around his fingers as he grit his teeth.

The black blindfold around his eyes was harshly yanked back, pulling his head with it. He allowed himself to be maneuvered, and tried to relax.

“So pretty, so lovely, what a darling little Kitten I have here…”

Flaming heat nipped at his cheeks, but Virgil swallowed his nervous pride. He needed this, he needed to be forgiven, he needed a place to stay. The feeling of gloved hands running up and down his bare sides made him flinch on reflex.

Panic bubbled in his throat, choking him more than the golden collar around his throat. Virgil shivered as the gloved hands continued to stroke and pet him down.

“Kitten, you’re always so wound up… You worry me, you know that? Don’t you know how much you worry me, baby?”

Virgil whimpered at the feeling of tugging on his pants. “I… I know… I’m sorry, Master…”

Fangs nipped dangerously close to his neck. “What are you hiding from me, Kitten? Why do you sound so guilty?”

If Virgil’s hands tightened up much more, he might rip the sheets. Tension ran up his spine and stiffened his whole body. No sense lying, he would just get a healthy dose of truth serum, and something worse might come out. “B… I was… I was bad, Master…” He shuddered again as the hands on him stilled. “I deserve to be punished.”

The smack echoed around the room.

Virgil gasped, hips jerking against the bed against his will.

Deceit spanked him.

Burying his head in the sheets, Virgil listened to the sound of Deceit pulling off his gloves.

“You remember our safeword, baby?” The lying side asked calmly, as if Virgil hadn’t told him it only half an hour ago. “Tell me again.”

After a pause, Virgil finally spoke up. “It’s… It’s cake, Master…”

Deceit’s bare hand wound into the anxious side’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. “Good boy. I can see you won’t be reasoned with,” he muttered darkly, “so I’ll give you what you need.”

Before Virgil could fully form a reply - saying what, he didn’t know - Deceit was pulling him to lay across his lap, and gently tugging at his blindfold.

“Do you want this off?”

Virgil shifted to get comfortable and shook his head, not bothering to move his hands away from the sheets. “No, I want it on, please.”

Deceit tugged on the nervous side’s pants, pulling them down with his plain black boxers as Virgil took a deep breath.

He could do this.

He would do this.

Once I pay my price, I can be a part of the family again.

If Deceit could taste the lies Virgil was telling himself, he had the decency not to say anything, merely drawing his hand back. “Count them, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

The sting tasted like redemption, and it was exactly what he wanted.

Virgil bit the sheet, tensed his arms, and did his best to hold still. “One.”

Chapter Text

Virgil squirmed in his seat and tried to ignore the burning pain that came with every movement.

Across the table, Remus cocked his head at a 90 degree angle as he chewed his raw steak thoughtfully. He seemed to be reluctant to speak, which wasn’t at all normal for such an… “honest” side.

Deceit scowled as he ate. He looked tired. Very tired.

Slowly picking up his fork, Virgil did his best not to show the violent stab of guilt he felt.

Dinner was never this quiet before.

Virgil wanted to ask what happened, why it was just the three of them, whether or not Deceit would let him stay, if they could just have the same agreement as before, but his throat felt swollen and thick, and he couldn’t say a word.

With a crack of finality, Remus slammed his fork into the table, startling the other two sides.

“Remus, you rat bastard,” Deceit hissed, “I just fucking fixed this table!”

The green-and-black side threw his hands in the air. “Well, then tell me why he’s here again! You said Virgil was never ever ever ever ever ever ever ev--”

Utilizing uncanny speed, Deceit stabbed Remus in the hand with his own fork. “I know what I said, you fucking dolt! He’s back now, so shut your slutty trap!” When he retracted his fork, no blood was left on it, and the lying side only rolled his eyes before shoving it back into his mashed potatoes.

Virgil winced. “I was just--”

“Doesn’t matter!” Deceit barked.

Remus locked eyes with Virgil, and simply shrugged, before resuming his messy eating with gusto.

Nervously, Virgil picked at his own dinner, wincing. Deceit’s mood seemed to have soured since their excursion earlier, and he didn’t know why. What had he done wrong now? Guilt and panic boiled up inside him, twisting his guts in knots.

Maybe Remus would help somehow. They had to be getting along while Virgil was…

Actually, how are they doing?

Patton sighed contentedly. Sometimes, he thought, there was nowhere better to be than between Roman and Logan, cuddled together and just… being, he supposed.

It was nice.

Not as nice as having them follow his every order and fulfilling his every request, but Patton had always been the sort to enjoy the simple things in life.

Attention was always something Patton craved. Maybe on the floor, in debates, Logan and Roman had control, but behind closed doors, they both gave him the reigns.

Dominance, according to Logan’s flash cards, was a power or status held over others, but Patton didn’t really think that covered it. Dominance, to him, was better described as just authority, the ability to say “roll over” and get a “yes, sir”, the privilege of teaching someone to pick up on all your cues and behave accordingly, the right to push and have someone move accordingly.

Patton liked dominance.

“Stand up, Lo.”

“Yes, sir.”

He liked having just about all the control, actually, liked the power and the rush of commanding not just one person, but two.

“What do you want, my little prince?”

“You, daddy--!”

Admittedly, he also would have really liked to have Virgil like that, but Virgil was always so shy, ducking out of the room when he walked in on them accidentally, stuttering out excuses, blushing red under his pale foundation as he backed up.

It was kind of sad, really, because Virgil obviously wanted to please, wanted to do whatever it took to have someone tell him that he’d done a good job.

Sometimes Patton wondered if at some point Virgil had another arrangement like Logan and Roman had with himself. If he did it right, then Virgil seemed so easy to command, to push around, and that was odd, because Virgil never reacted that way if Patton didn’t use his stern voice. Using his usual, fluffy tones would only result in huffing and sighing at the best, or hissing and glares at the worst.

But, if Patton lowered his pitch and spoke slower, like someone else he knew more than he’d like to admit, Virgil would duck his head a bit and cow to any demand.

It was interesting, he supposed, but that was always a talent Patton had, finding out what it took to make people want to listen. (Or at least, he couldn’t remember learning it, so it had to be a talent of some kind.)

Trial and error, Logan would say, of a social form.

More like charm and seduction, Roman would argue.

Patton didn’t really think it needed a name. He usually just called it his special talent and let that be it. Silly Logan and Roman, always making things so complicated, probably couldn’t accept that. Logan would over-examine it and Roman would talk it up, but Patton knew exactly what it was - people pleasing, and nothing more.

People pleasing wasn’t too hard, he just had to find out what people liked to hear and what they responded to.

Logan responded to gentle, direct prodding. Simple commands, devoid of any hidden meaning to dig up, cutting the poetics he always liked, to be as concise and blatant as possible. It left no room to argue, and no room to misbehave.

On the other hand, Roman liked to be praised. Talked up, showered with adoration and positivity until he was practically drunk on the idea of being loved. He followed affection like a moth to a flame, chased it like a carrot on a stick.

But Virgil was another story, and Patton hated it.

He hated not knowing what Virgil wanted. He tried to be soft and caring, gentle and supportive, but that only got him so far. And it was frustrating, because it obviously endeared Virgil to him, obviously melted him to the point he’d run away and joined them, opened up, and then…

Patton hit a wall.

Virgil had left them, and he’d left before Patton could figure out why he wasn’t responding the way he wanted.

It had worked, but then it was like he maxed out the points he could get with Virgil, and he had no idea why his tactic - his successful, working, perfect tactic - suddenly failed him. He didn’t know why he couldn’t keep Virgil, why Virgil only reacted to him, why his honed talent couldn’t get him what he wanted.

Maybe that was a bit spoiled to think, so he pushed it down, pretended he wasn’t as scared, not as worried as he actually was.

Hopefully, wherever he ended up, Virgil was okay, and would stay okay until Patton could get to him.

“You’re fucking Remus?!”

“I am!” The psychotic side cheered, looking very proud of himself.

Deceit, in contrast, wouldn’t look up from his plate. “I see no reason why that’s any of your business, Virgil.”

Virgil looked back and forth between the other two aspects, eyes wide and mouth open, stuttering on the words that wouldn’t line up in his mouth quite right.

Remus obliviously bounced in his seat. “Dee-dee told me you two had quite the adventures before you left, Vivi!” The sheer delight in his grin only contrasted Deceit’s grimace, but he seemed immune to the glaring. “You shouldn’t be surprised, you probably got him addicted, and I just picked up the sexy duty after you ducked, quack quack!”

With a sigh, Deceit pushed his plate away, immediately drawing the attention to himself.

Virgil tried not to think too much on the fact that he and Remus reacted the same way, because if he thought too long on how well Remus picked up on Deceit’s cues, his mind would wander to places it shouldn’t go during dinner.

Deceit neatly folded his hands together and rested them on the table, a perfect picture of poise and grace. “I don’t see how this sort of topic is appropriate for dinner talk,” he stated firmly, voice low and slow in the way that made Virgil’s pulse anything but, “While I can excuse Virgil’s lapse in rule-following, Remus, you have been here long enough to know what is expected of you.”

Wiggling excitedly in his seat, Remus giggled without a hint of sanity. “Sorry sorry sorry,” he sing-songed, “I’ve been a naughty boy again, Daddy!”

If he’d been eating or drinking anything, Virgil would have choked.

Slamming his hands down as he stood, Deceit fixed Remus with a heady glare, full of the promise of disipline and punishment.

“Virgil. Go upstairs.”

Without hesitation, Virgil scrambled to his feet, shocked more by Remus’ apparent lack of understanding. Didn’t he understand what it meant when Deceit was mad? Didn’t he realize how much trouble he was in for saying that? Didn’t he know how much Deceit hated that word?

The mental image of Remus’ grin buzzed in Virgil’s head as he scrambled up the stairs and back into his room.

Normally, the nostalgia of how it looked and felt when in the darker side of the mindscape would have hit him like a flood, made him regret ever leaving, but the scene at dinner kept replaying in his mind, keeping him on edge, forcing him to re-examine everything a thousand times over until understanding hit him harder than a punch to the gut.

Remus wasn’t scared to make Deceit angry.

He didn’t worry about being disciplined, in fact, he seemed to look forward to it, if his expression was anything to go off of.

The look of delight on his face wasn’t really obliviousness, Virgil realized, but satisfaction, a form of delight gotten out of misbehaving. What a brat, no wonder Deceit was so on edge, Remus was winding him up like always, and it made Virgil want to--

No.

No no no no no, Virgil firmly told his internal monologue, absolutely not.

There was no “saving” someone like Deceit. He didn’t need rescue in the first place and even if he did, he wouldn’t accept it. Better to push those freaky thoughts away and not think about it too much.

Besides, Deceit and him had a deal.

Kind of.

“You fucking brat,” Deceit hissed, forcing Remus’ head down against the table, “You little whore, you goddamn slut, you rotten little bitch!”

Remus sunk his fingernails into the wood, moans already tumbling freely from his open mouth as his hips were forced into the edge of the table over and over again without mercy. “Fuuuuck, Daddy--!”

“Damn it, Remus!” Deceit yanked his hair painfully in that way that always drove Remus mad, hissing. “I told you to stop calling me that, you nasty fucker!”

With a lop-sided grin, Remus arched his back to give the other dark side better access. “Sorry, Daddy~”

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

Patton took a deep and shifted nervously in his seat. “I want you to talk to Deceit,” he repeated, before explaining himself, “He listens to you, and he won’t work with me. I just want to negotiate with him. That’s all.”

Similar hands found his own in an effort to comfort the moral side. “I’ll do what I can, but what should I say?”

“Tell him I want Virgil back,” Patton muttered. “I know that’s where he went, and I can’t tell Deceit to let him go, because I’m not supposed to.” With a sigh, he folded his hands over the ones comforting him, trying to return the favor. “I’m sorry I haven’t explained all this to you, kiddo, but there’s just so much I can’t say… I can say this, though. If you tell him to, Deceit has to listen to you. You’re the only one who can control him. Can you please just… Try? For me? For Virgil?”

“I can try.” Breathing deeply, Thomas nodded.

Virgil whimpered beneath his Master, back arching and twisting.

“Ah, h-harder, please…”

Deceit softly tut’d. “Virgil, patience is a virtue,” he muttered, voice far too stable for the situation, as the other squirmed, trying to grind back against him.

With a high-pitched whine, Virgil pawed at the sheets. “Noooo, I want it, please Master, please…”

Sighing, Deceit motioned to Remus. “Why don’t you give our little kitten something productive to do with his mouth?”

Remus grinned as he grabbed the anxious side by the hair and yanked his head up.

Virgil bit his lip to keep from moaning outright at the sound of Remus unbuckling his belt.

And then his alarm went off.

With a sharp jerk, Virgil found himself falling right off his bed and onto the floor, blankets tangled around him.

God fucking damn it.

Groaning out loud, Virgil struggled out of the fabric prison, using his bed for balance to get upright.

Virgil stalked to his old dresser and flung it open, scouring through the black and grey to find something decent to wear. As soon as he settled on a plain grey tee shirt and some black skinny jeans, he yanked them out, and slammed the drawers shut.

He poked his head out into the hall - thank god it was early enough Remus would finally be asleep - and quickly made his way down the hall into the bathroom, clutching his extra clothes to his waist. As soon as he shut and locked the door, he leaned back against the solid wood with a heavy sigh.

Today would be another warm and early shower, he supposed.

Roman heaved a sigh as he flopped down on Logan’s “practical” (it was covered in astronomy and constellation maps, what a nerd) blue bed.

Logan just grunted, not looking up from his book, even as Roman put his head in his lap.

The two sat alone in silence for a few minutes, except for the constant notes coming from the desk where Logan’s metronome sat.

“Do you think Virgil hates us?” Roman finally muttered, getting the logical side’s attention.

Softly closing the book, Logan leaned back a bit, looking up to his star-painted ceiling as he hummed. “No, I doubt that he does.”

Roman huffed. “Well, then why would he leave?”

“I’m not sure,” Logan murmured, burying his hand in Roman’s hair, “Perhaps it was something beyond our understanding. I certainly could not put myself in his mental state, and I doubt you or Patton could, either.”

The prince just sighed again as he lifted his head up more to offer better leverage. The feeling was nice. “I still want to know,” he complained.

Logan just nodded, continuing his gentle petting, and letting Roman talk.

“Why didn’t he just talk to us before he left? We could have helped, couldn’t we? We could have fixed whatever was making him stressed enough to leave...”

“Roman,” Logan scolded gently, “Sometimes things seem much more difficult than they are. These situiations can cause people to make rash decisions, including ones that may seem odd or poorly executed to those outside the issue.”

The creative trait sighed a third time, and went even more limp in Logan’s lap. “I guess, but I still wish we could have helped.”

There was a long pause before Logan finally responded. “I know. I feel similarly.”

Roman looked up, surprised, and was met with a crestfallen look. His eyes softened, and he sat up, moving to wrap his arms around Logan’s shoulders, trying to be as comforting as he possibly could. “Hey, we’ll be okay. Virgil will come back when he’s ready, right? It’ll be fine in the end. Patton will get him back.”

Logan gently leaned against Roman, slowly bringing his hands up to hold onto the princely aspect’s arms.

“I… I really hope so, Roman.”

As soon as he felt the pull, Deceit set about resisting it. Giving in to a call would not end well, considering all the times he’d popped up for a summoning only to be sharply reminded that he was entirely unwanted and would never be called for intentionally.

He had no urge to be berated or chased out with shouting and insults. He had no want to be accused or scrutinized unfairly.

Most of all, he had no desire to see those bastards upstairs.

Virgil had been skittish and on edge ever since he came back, and lying more than ever before, particularly to himself. It reminded Deceit of when Virgil had formed before, when he had been twitchy and volatile.

It pissed him off.

Deceit hated the fact that they had broken his little emo. They acted so open and accepting of him, but they had rejected him as soon as he revealed his past, hadn’t they?

While he couldn’t get the full story from Virgil, the anxious side hadn’t lied in the slightest when he said the reason he left was that he had admitted he was formerly a dark side. It felt like enough, to know that his past was the reason he had been cast out, forced to flee his home, made into a pest or parasite in some way.

And it wasn’t fair.

Virgil was always a complicated side, but he had many good merits, and he deserved far better, so Deceit had decided he would never forgive them. It was just too much. This was the straw that had broken the camel’s back.

They stole his Virgil, and then they threw him away like a cracked china doll.

They didn’t deserve anything but revenge.

So, no matter how hard Thomas tried to summon him, Deceit was firmly dedicated to staying perfectly still. He would not rise up, he would not let them push him around, he would not play into their sick games.

“Get fucked,” he announced, not at all caring that they couldn’t hear him, “get fucked twicefold each with a chainsaw.”

No matter how long it took, he wasn’t moving.

Chapter Text

Thomas sighed in exasperation and tried, once more, to summon his lying side. It wasn't working. Without a name, Thomas couldn't forcibly summon any of his sides, only try to pull them up. And Deceit was not budging.

It was actually starting to worry him, in all ironic honesty. He'd tried lying and found that he still could, so Deceit hadn't ducked out, but the "blatant falsehoods" just weren't enough to pull Deceit up into the real world. It shouldn't be like this, Thomas shouldn't be doing all this just to get Deceit to so much as talk to him.

But here he was.

Sans one scaled liar, and worried about all his sides in a collection.

Patton had explained that Virgil still hadn't come back, and the core sides had been more than a tad distressed. Thomas was running out of options. He was feeling backed into a corner. He was running out of options.

Thomas took a deep breath, and moved on to another tactic.

"Remus?"

With a sickening pop, the darker creativity was standing in front of him, swaying dazedly in place. "WOO!" He shrieked, looking around in surprise.

The Youtuber sighed in relief, "Thank god, someone finally responded..." He grabbed Remus' shoulders, wincing at the prickly texture of his sparkly outfit. "Focus, Remus, look at me. Focus. Focus." Thomas waited until the side nodded excitedly and kept his eyes trained on his host. "Great," he sighed again, "Okay, pay attention."

Remus nodded so hard Thomas kinda thought his head would fall off.

"Where's Deceit?"

There was a long pause, until Remus slowly looked away. There was an uncharacteristically cowed and uncomfortable aura to him now, and Thomas immediately picked up on the change of tone in the conversation.

As the green side picked idly at his sleeves and avoided eye contact, he seemed to be working through his thoughts.

"Um," Remus muttered, before blurting out in almost one breath, "Deceit said not to tell you because he doesn't want to talk to Patton about Virgil and he knows you're gonna bring Patton along."

Thomas blinked for a moment before responding. "Oh. Well, um... Can you pass a message from me?"

Remus perked right up, always eager to please, and nodded again with even more force, making Thomas even more concerned about the state of his neck. "Yeah! I'll tell him whatever you say, so if he kills anyone, it'll be me instead of you or Pappy-Cakes!"

With a wince, Thomas tried to work through his message. Considering how often he made Remus repeat it back and critiqued his "phrasing", Thomas was starting to just wish he'd hunted Deceit down in the mindscape himself.
Deceit took a step back and admired his handiwork with a self-satisfied smirk.

The fluffy purple cat ears and long tail were already a nice touch, not to mention the long-sleeve sweater with the paw pads really pulled the look together, however, the black collar with the shiny gold bell was certainly the best touch. It looked lovely, if he did say so himself, and he did.

Virgil shifted uncomfortably on the floor, biting back a whimper as the plug attached to the tail moved with him.

This was torture for him, Deceit knew, but the cute little blush on his face was far too endearing. Maybe he should add some whiskers, too, and some thigh-high socks, or that cat-chest-window shirt that people were always flaunting on social media...

Grinning, Deceit whipped out his phone and opened the camera app.

Unfortunately, before he could make Virgil meow or something equally ridiculous and adorable on camera, Remus burst in.

"Dee-dee!" The dark creativity howled, cheerfully skipping into the room and causing Virgil to squeal with alarm. God damn it, he broke the lock again. And now he was staring at Virgil, probably already going to say something stupid.

Deceit whirled and grabbed Remus by the collar and yanked him close to his face, hissing aggressively. "You broke. My. Lock. Remus. I locked it. Because. I'm. Busy." Deceit snarled, enunciating every word carefully to get it through the other side's thick ass head.

Remus shrugged and stuck his tongue out. "Sorry! Tommy-Salami-Tsunami gave me a message for you!"

WIth a huff, Deceit released his collar and turned back to Virgil, who was still cowering on the floor. "Fine, tell me what he said," he growled, unclasping his cape and swiftly putting it around Virgil's bare shoulders, reclasping it, in order to cover him up somewhat.

Virgil's little sigh of relief told him that he appreciated it, even if he didn't say anything.

Straightening his back and clearing his throat, Remus started reciting Thomas' message in an unnervingly perfect mimicry of their host's voice, "Deceit, we are all worried and want to know that Virgil is okay and happy. No pressure for him to come back, we're willing to wait as long as it takes him to come back, if he ever wants to. We just want to know if he's okay."

Ruffling Virgil's fluffy hair, the liar slowly stood, and heaved a hefty sigh through his teeth. "Then ask Virgil himself. He's a fucking adult, he'll speak for himself."

The anxiety-inducing side in question jerked his head up at his name, and blinked owlishly. "Oh." He muttered, seemingly dazed, "well... I'm fine here. I'm not... Gonna go back anytime soon... I just... Need a break, I guess?" Virgil ducked his head back down, keeping his spine and hips as still as possible.

Deceit gestured to Virgil and leveled Remus with an impassive look. "There you have it. Go run and tell Thomas exactly that, no more, no less, those exact words."

"Yessir!" Remus saluted, cheerfully whirling on his heel and skipping out with sheer glee.

Virgil picked nervously as the fabric of his pants as silence fell between the two remaining sides. Deceit simply buried his hand back in the other's hair, leaving them both in the uncomfortable quiet.

It wasn't like Deceit cared much, and Virgil eventually worked up the courage to speak up. "Hey... I... I'm allowed to stay here, right...? I can... You're not going to send me back, are you?" He asked, nervously tugging at Deceit's pant leg. "I'll do whatever you want, just... Don't send me back, please..."

"I'm not sending you back," Deceit scoffed, "I don't care what you do, but if you want to stay, then just fucking stay." He twisted his gloved hand in Virgil's hair, a fond smile gracing his face at the resulting whine it earned him.

The soft sweater paws that clung to his leg were almost as unspeakably adorable as Virgil trying to subtly grind his hips back on the toy in him, and it made Deceit chuckle a bit. Virgil's flustered scowl only added fuel to the adoring fire in Deceit's chest, and if he was a little more sane, he might have hated it.

"Do you want Master to make you feel better, Kitten?"

"Please, Master..."

When Remus popped up, it always made Thomas jolt in mild terror. At least, that's what Remus was noting. Then again, Logan always said stuff like "get lots of samples" so maybe he should just pop up lots and lots to see if Thomas was always scared. That idea was pretty funny, he might do that.

But first, he had to make Daddy proud by telling Thomas what Virgil said.

"Tommy-Wommy-Bomby!" He crowed, grabbing his host's arm, "I have a message from the Baby Rattle-Snake's pet!"

Remus rolled back off the couch - wouldn't it be funny if his head went through Thomas' table and busted open and there'd be guts everywhere that only Thomas could see? - and got into his Recital Pose, only to be interrupted.

Thomas seemed really confused. "Virgil? You asked Virgil?"

With a shimmy, Remus nodded. "Yeah! Deceit said, 'ask him, he's a fucking adult' and so I asked him!"

His host slowly nodded, processing the major truth bomb that Remus just dropped on his-- "Okay. Yeah, uh... You can tell me his message now."

"I'm fine here," Remus announced doing his best lackluster emo-punk impression which must have been good cus Thomas looked really impressed, "I'm not... Gonna go back anytime soon... I just... Need a break, I guess." Remus finished, then bowed proudly.

Thomas picked up on the cue and clapped. "Message received. I'll pass that on to Patton, I guess?"

Remus grinned and bounced in idly place, fluttering his eyelashes as coyly as he could manage. "Did I do a good job?" His voice was pitched more down, and the fact that Thomas didn't pick up on it just attributed to his dense-ish nature. For a person with such a dirty sense of humor, Thomas didn't pick up on flirting easily.

"Yeah?" Thomas seemed surprised that Remus would even ask, how cute!

The darker creativity slid up to the couch and plopped down right next to Thomas, leaning into his personal space, and placing a hand on his upper thigh.

"So do I get a reward, Mister Sanders~?"

"Remus, you fiend, you've trespassed in my land for the last--" Roman choked off, gawking at his counterpart's bruised and puffed-up face. "What happened to you...?!"

The other creative side just grinned.

"Thomas has a really good right hook, maybe even better than yours!"

Chapter Text

Patton wasn’t sure why he did it, really. There was no real excuse, other than that he needed to see the lying side in person. He needed to talk with Deceit and be completely sure that Virgil was safe and sound, even if his little emo wouldn’t see him.

He wasn’t surprised to see Deceit sitting calmly on the couch in the dark side’s main room, calmly drinking a mug of something. Dressed to the villainy nines as always. Patton wouldn’t admit it, but Deceit’s style did intimidate him a bit, if only because the other side dressed so extravagantly… Still.

Sitting with resolution in the chair across from the dark side, Patton kept his eyes on the table as neutrally as he could.

“Hello, Deceit.”

A soft hum was all he got in return. Deceit seemed completely uninterested in what Patton had to say, and the moral side couldn’t help that it slightly irritated him. Then again, he was still sure that he could break through to him with kindness and patience.

Patton sighed. “I just wanted to be sure Remus gave me, or, well, Thomas, the right message. He said that Virgil was safe and sound here?” He adjusted his glasses nervously, trying not to make it very obvious that he was watching Deceit like a hawk. Although it might be better to say he was watching the fancy liar like a bunny watched a wolf on the hill…

Deceit finally set his mug down on the table with a soft clack that drew Patton’s attention to him.

“Morality. Get the fuck out of my house.”

Something in him snapped, and Patton felt his tongue loosen like Logan’s when eased with a few glasses of whiskey. “What are you going to do, make me? Virgil would never forgive you if you hurt me,” Patton crossed his arms, “and I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m allowed to ask questions.”

The dark side stood, and his light counterpart stood as well, perfectly mirroring him like always. It made Patton irritated in a way he couldn’t describe.

Deceit glared. “Get. Out.”

Patton glared right back. “No.”

Deceit moved first, to grab his shoulder, but Patton had been training with Roman for years on his adventures, and he wasn’t as defenseless as he looked. He twisted away and swiped for Deceit’s hat, knocking it off his head.

Unfortunately, Deceit had trained to take care of Remus, and he wasn’t distracted, swinging again, digging his gloved claws into Patton’s shirt as the other lept back.

They toppled over, Deceit knocking his mug off the table, and grappled on the floor, struggling to pin each other. Deceit’s teeth snapped dangerously near his neck, and Patton headbutted the other side in the nose.

As Deceit reeled back in pain with a hiss, Patton flipped them over, triumphantly slamming the other roughly to the ground.

And grinding his knee against Deceit’s crotch.

Patton’s body instinctively froze at the choked-off moan, torn between arousal and the rush of adrenaline from the fight.

It didn’t help that Deceit had also froze up, eyes wide in shock or possibly terror, with a satisfying blush settling on the human side of his face. His… Attractive face.

Patton blinked owlishly, feeling like the floor had fallen out from under him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Even if he was charming or pretty or smart or… whatever… Deceit had stolen his Virgil, he shouldn’t be attracted to a villain!

A sexy villain who was still reeling himself, actually…

Testing the waters, Patton slowly shifted his knee up to press harder against the other, and Deceit stiffened up, eyes darting towards the stairs.

Right, of course, Remus and Virgil were probably right up there… Patton couldn’t deny that a certain thrill went up his spine, shifting his mouth into a grin. What would Virgil say if he came downstairs and saw them doing this, right here in the dark sides’ living room? What if he heard them from up there?

Deceit scowled up at him and shook his head.

“It’s kinda kinky, though,” Patton muttered, “and we could be quiet.”

The snake-faced aspect hissed slightly under his breath. “Absolutely not. That’s a horrible idea.”

Humming, Patton rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out playfully. “You’re just mad that I would totally top you.”

“You would not.”

“Would too.”

“Would not.”

“Yuh-uh.”

Deceit sat up, shoving Patton back with a snarl. “We’re not doing this. Get out of my house.”

Patton just grinned again. “Only if you admit I’m more dom than you.”

He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he’d gotten what he wanted. Deceit’s eyes went impossibly wide, then narrowed to slits. “You ssssstupid little daddy-kinking ssssssslut,” he hissed, before pouncing on Patton, almost knocking them both into the table.

This time, they grappled with tongue and teeth, clawing at each other’s clothes with fever. Every moan torn from the other’s throat was a point and neither could keep score.

Patton nearly broke the clasp on Deceit’s cape, and it earned him a sharp bite to the neck.

“Ow, shi--oot! Be more careful, geeze!” he whined, trying to undo the liar’s belt without actually having to pay attention to what he was doing.

Deceit hummed in response and smoothed the bite with his tongue. “Ssssorry, I guess,” he muttered, sounding entirely not sorry and he absent-mindedly slipped his hands under the soft blue polo, exploring the softer side’s body.

Patton bit his lip, as he finally managed to unclasp the stupid leather strap and shove Deceit’s pants to his knees. “At least work with me here.”

Pulling back so Patton could watch him roll his eyes, Deceit made a face. “Fine. How whiney you are.” In an instant, he’d materialized his extra arms and undressed the moral side to his stereotypically-heart-patterned boxers. “Nice. A classic.”

“Thanks,” The moral chirruped, the sarcasm entirely lost on him. Instead, he worked on taking Deceit’s own shirt off.

The lying side kicked his pants and shoes off, collected again.

Patton hated the relaxed look on Deceit’s face, and Deceit hated the dopey grin on Patton’s. They met in the middle this time, all tongue and teeth and scratching hands, battling for dominance.

“Cheater!” Patton whined as Deceit’s extra arms let him pin the other again. “You can’t use your other arms, you’re a snake, not a centipede!”

Deceit just huffed but obbliged, disappearing his other arms while shoving down the other’s stupid boxers. “Shut up before I decide to duck out and leave you here.” It was an empty threat, and one that Patton saw through as he worked the hissy side’s own underwear off.

“Yeah, right,” he giggled, “I’d just follow you if you did.”

“That’s unfortunately very likely,” Deceit commented dryly as he conjured a bottle of lube, “considering that it’s you and all. However, I could also see you just grabbing me as I sunk out, like some sort of semi-pastel father-themed parasite.”

Patton had an unfair ability to still annoyingly laugh when someone had two fingers in his ass.

“You’re not a bad conversation partner,” he commented, if a bit breathlessly, “I guess I can see how Virgil and Remus tolerate you.”

Deceit shoved a third finger in none too lightly. “They tolerate me because I’m the boss.”

“So you’ve got a big dick?”

“I hate you for being able to swear. I think it ought to be illegal.”

“I think it ought to be illegal for your bedside manners to suck so much.”

“Fair. Incorrect, but fair.”

Patton laughed again. “That makes no sense! Maybe I should just explain.” He shoved at Deceit, who obligingly backed up, flexing his fingers with a scowl as Patton sat up.

Deceit squealed as Patton jumped on him, forcing his wrists up by his head.

Although he could just summon his other arms again, this position was somewhat interesting, and he did have a fondness for finding loopholes rather than outright cheating…

Patton sighed as he sunk down on Deceit’s dick, grinning wider as the other huffed.

“You gotta hold my hips now,” he instructed, guiding Deciet’s hands to his sides, “so I don’t lose my balance. I almost broke Lo’s nose once.”

Deceit huffed a laugh. “I can’t imagine Logan having sex. I keep thinking about him taking notes while he orgasms or something.”

Patton giggled as he began to shift his hips. “He tried once! I dunno if you’ve ever tried to write while you cum, but it’s really funny to watch and kinda useless when you’re done. He said he couldn’t read anything he wrote.”

“That’s actually hilarious,” Deceit hummed, keeping his grip steady as Patton began to bounce, “I’ve always wondered if Roman and Remus are different in bed, or if it’s one of those few things they share in common?”

The moral side sighed again, bracing his hands on the liar’s chest. “I dunno about Remus, but Roman is eager to please, I guess. He’s really finicky about sex, the moment has to be perfect and stuff...”

Deceit grinned. “Somewhat in common then. Remus is a horndog, but he’s always delighted to be praised, and he’ll do whatever you ask…”

“Maybe we should switch sometime, eh?”

“As hilarious as that would be, I could never set Remus on anyone.”

“Bullshit,” Patton muttered, leaning down more to watch Deceit bite his lip, “You set him on us before. Like, a few days ago.”

Deceit grunted, digging his claws into the moral side’s hips. “Not on purpose,” he insisted, “I’ll explain later, but there’s more to it than that.”

Patton nodded, trying to shift his angle to hit his prostate. “Ah, fuck, if you say so.”

“I do,” Deceit swore, thrusting up to meet Patton’s hips.

“Fuck! Fuck, that’s it--!” Patton whimpered as Deceit’s claws pricked hard enough he was worried they would draw blood. He didn’t even care, damn it, it’d been too long since he’d done this, since he’d felt this kind of pleasure.

Their mouths met, sloppy and wild like before, but with more tongue then teeth, as their movements lost time and became more desperate. Deceit moved one hand from Patton’s soft hips to grab the moral side’s dick, almost laughing in triumph at the loud moan it earned him.

Patton chanted a series of “fuck!”s as Deceit hissed, and then they were both burying their cries in each other’s mouths.

It was too soft to be hateful, and when they parted it was only to scream.

“FUCK, DAMN IT, DECEIT--!”

“SSSSSHIT--!”

Patton couldn’t say before that he’d ever managed to naturally time his climax with someone. It was kinda impressive, which he might have thought about if his head wasn’t dizzy and white with pleasure and relief.

As he came down from his high, Patton took a moment to enjoy the look of disgust on Deceit’s face as he wiped the cum from his face.

“That’sssss fucking dissssgussssting.”

“I think it’s what you deserve.”

Deceit glared at him, but it lacked the venom from before, and Patton just giggled tiredly.

They winced as they separated, Deceit more so from the mess, Patton from the feeling of cum dripping out of his ass. “We should have used like… a condom or something,” the moral aspect muttered, looking at the carpet in dismay.

The liar hummed in agreement. “This was not safe sex,” he stated, and Patton snorted in delight.

“Geeze, I dunno why we don’t hang out more often!” Patton proclaimed, excitedly waving his hands at a very exasperated yet amused Deceit. “We really have like… some stuff in common, and you’re actually funny, and I do like hanging around you, and oh hi Virgil.”

“Guys. What the fuck.”

Chapter Text

Virgil shifted uncomfortably. There was a spring from this chair digging into his thigh, likely caused by Remus jumping on it repeatedly after Deceit told him to stop.

Speaking of Deceit.

The deceptive side was sitting with the tense aura of a drawn bow that was moments from snapping or launching a bow directly into someone’s face. His arms and legs were stiff, his fingers were clawing into his shirt sleeves, and his face was drawn taunt in a heavy scowl.

Patton, on the other hand, just looked bashful. Somehow, his softly apologetic face actually made Virgil feel worse.

Silence dragged on between them. Virgil felt like he was going to scream. Did Patton normally come here to fuck Deceit? Did they usually meet up like this, in a completely public area, to do things like… that? Was this just something he had to get used to? Did Remus know? Did Roman and Logan know?!

Just thinking about it was making Virgil more and more anxious.

There was no good way to address it. He couldn’t think of a single way he could bring up any of those questions without sounding like a complete and utter asshole, or worse, overly interested in their sex lives, which he was pointedly not going to look into like that. It wasn’t his business.

He had to say something, literally anything. “So,” he forced out, his throat feeling tight and hot with panic, “hi. Hi Patton.”

“Heyyyyy.” Patton grinned, visibly uncomfortable and distressed.

Deceit just glared.

Virgil almost gave up. Almost. He just couldn’t resist basking in awkward and anxious silences, could he? “So, like. What. What the fuck? What the fuck. Do you guys normally… uh… you know?” He looked away, feeling his cheeks burn and tingle with a force he couldn’t run from. Just the thought of them, doing that, together, with each other, well. It wasn’t exactly being easy on him. Why was he even thinking about that in the first place!

Patton nervously giggled, snapping Virgil out of his spiraling thoughts. “No, no! That was, um, that was a first. That doesn’t happen. Or it hasn’t before, at least! Not that I meant, uh… Um! You know what I mean!” The moral side devolved into more nervous giggles, shifting in his seat and looking off to the side, a heavy blush settling on his cheeks.

The silence came back. Deceit didn’t make any move to contribute to the conversation, just alternated with glaring at Patton, glaring at Virgil, and glaring up at the ceiling whenever there was an audible “thump” from upstairs, likely Remus doing something too graphic to describe.

Maybe, Virgil thought, he should just think about whatever cursed thing Remus was doing. That would be better. Way better. Much better than thinking about two hot people he totally did not have two individual crushes on getting it on. With each other. Yeah, don’t think about that, he grimaced as Deceit’s laser-sharp gaze turned to him with curiosity and disapproval.

Virgil looked away. “Why are you here anyways?”

The moral side jumped, probably forgetting that the conversation was still going. If it was still going, honestly, it had more than slightly died. “Oh! Well, uh, I came to check on you! Just to make sure that you were okay, you uh… Sort of took off on us.” Patton picked at the strings hanging off of his rumpled cardigan, avoiding looking at either of the two other sides in the room.

“Oh, yeah,” Virgil muttered, feeling the tension and awkwardness grow, “I’m okay. Sorry. That you like. That you worried. And uh. Yeah.” He cringed, wishing he’d just kept his mouth shut. Maybe he should slink back to his room and just--

There was a loud crash from upstairs that caused Patton and Virgil to both jump, looking around in confusion.

Deceit swore under his breath as he quickly stood and elegantly swept out of the room, stalking up the stairs without so much as a backward glance at the two sides.

“Wow,” Patton whispered, “I wonder what that was?”

Virgil made eye contact with him, and then quickly looked back at the stairs. “It’s Remus. I don’t know what he did, but it was probably something horrible and indescribable. He’s kind of…” Virgil gestured vaguely with one hand in a circular movement. “A lot.”

The sky blue side nodded, looking at him earnestly, and Virgil felt some of his confidence return.

Something about being an expert or just more knowledgeable about Remus was doing wonders to his self esteem, and he wasn’t about to look a gift serotonin in the mouth.
“Okay so like, Remus has some kind of like, kink for being a dick, and Deceit kicks his ass over it, which he, uh, he as in Remus, also likes, in a sexual way, so it’s like a thing, and uh. I mean it’s weird I guess,” he looked at Patton again, and the earnest look in his eyes made Virgil’s chest swell up in the weirdest way. “Yeah. Also like, Remus is always destroying stuff on accident, too. Deceit really hates it, and I guess he’s pissed off. You know?” Lame finish. Lame. Lame. Lame.

“Yeah, I get it!” Patton nodded again. “It sounds scary, though. Is Deceit angry a lot?”

Virgil grimaced. Of course he fucked up the explanation. “Not exactly. I think he’s just tired? When he feels less tired, he’s really… nice,” lame again, “and funny,” second strike, “and just cool I guess.”

He wanted to die.

Unfortunately, his internalized self hatred was interrupted by the sound of something breaking upstairs, followed by several suspiciously loud and rapid thumping and thudding noises, slowly getting louder--

Remus landed face-down at the foot of the stairs, his legs flying up in the air and almost over his head before flopping back down.

“Oh,” Patton murmured.

“Fucking hell,” Virgil hissed, jumping up to approach Remus cautiously. “Dude. Duuuuuude. What the fuck man? Are you good?”

The crumpled form of Remus gave him a weak thumbs up, as Deceit calmly walked down the stairs, stopping before him. “Remus,” he sighed, “did you try to walk twice at the same time again, like last week with the toaster?”

Remus swore loudly.

Patton had happily offered to help Deceit bandage Remus’ face, but the snake-like side had outright hissed at him with a lot of aggression, so he instead just bid Virgil a very soft and somewhat teary goodbye before quickly making his exit, feeling more than a little emotionally exhausted.

In his defense, there had been a lot of things happening and going on and all that. Thomas wasn’t doing so well, Roman was acting off, and Virgil wouldn’t come talk to them. Logan was getting more and more short with him, Remus was completely unmanageable, and Deceit was being extremely threatening. Patton himself wasn’t even feeling very happy slappy Pappy… It was a mess.

A big, icky, yucky mess, and he wanted to just crawl under the bed and eat an entire pan of cookies. Didn’t he deserve a whole pan of cookies? Yes. Yes he did.

Patton curled up, under his covers, with the tupperware container of cookies, and told himself that it was entirely and totally just because he was hungry. Thinking about all of the bad things just made him feel worse, so he tried to just forget about it and enjoy his cookies.

Cookies, unlike people, were not confusing and sad. Cookies also did not look at him with sexy smudged eyeliner. Or sleek snake eyes and smirks.

He pulled the covers over his head and closed up the cookie container. "Cookies are better than people," he muttered to himself in the warm, dark safety of his blanket protection, "people aren't simple like cookies." He poked the container, thinking about having another treat to cheer himself up. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like he'd down something... Wrong.

On second thought, maybe he wanted a nap.

Logan hesitated, literally shifting his weight between his feet. Metaphorically, he shifted the options in his head, considering that he could, if he so desired, turn around at any time. He could retreat and not put himself in danger.

Trekking through the darker part of the mindscape was never a good idea. The powers of the dark sides were heightened intensely by the mindscape here, and Logan could, if caught off guard, be physically or mentally harmed by the more violent and volatile members of it.

If he wanted to, he could just--

“Looooogan berryyyyy~”

Remus slunk around the corner, grinning widely like a starving predator who’d had some kind of tasty dish drop right in front of them.

The logical side lived up to his name by resisting the urge to turn on his heel and book towards the staircase, calling desperately for Deceit. He was a fool. An idiot. He never should have come here, at all. Internally, he froze up.

Visibly, he blinked.

“Hello, Remus. I came to speak to Deceit.” Logan adjusted his glasses, giving Remus a blank and expressionless look. “Is he available to speak with me?”

Pouting, the darker creativity puffed up his cheeks and twirled his morningstar. “You’re such a bully, Logan! Even Virgil will indulge my fantastic ideas every now and again! If you weren’t such a stick up the butt, you would be more fun!”

Logan kept his expression neutral. “I have no need for that. Is Deceit available?”

Remus groaned. “Yeah! He is! You’re so boring!” He stormed past Logan, heading up the stairs towards the darker sides’ individual living spaces.

Distantly, Logan wondered if their recent video together had really upset Remus. He seemed quicker to give up than usual, and much more aggressive. Threats were a usual behavior he had recorded with Remus. Being sullen and irritated was something that he was not used to recording as behavior coming from Remus.

Typically, Remus bounced back quickly from being insulted or put down. Ignoring him was a terrible idea, and indulging him tended to upset the others, but Remus had never been aggressive to Logan just for avoiding his flirtations. The temptation to ask and obtain new knowledge about Remus’ peculiar mental state was strong, however, Logan was on a mission. He was supposed to be talking to Deceit, not getting distracted with Remus being a typical oddity.

Logan tried to mind his own business.

Logan failed to mind his own business.

“You seem tense,” he noted out loud, and then very nearly slammed into Remus’ back as the other stopped suddenly, directly in front of him.

Remus looked back at him with a glare of pure hatred.

Without saying anything, he turned and began walking again, notably aggressive. It was more like stomping, Logan observed. Highly aggressive behavior, and completely baffling. Verbal interactions usually improved Remus’ attitude, not deteriorated it.

Wondering about this new development and the various implications of it, Logan quickly adjusted his attire and hurried after Remus.

Completely unaware of the discomfort of his brother, fellow sides, and tangled romantic partners, Roman happily cuddled into the blankets with Thomas.

"I love this part," he grinned, "I don't care what anyone says, "Let It Go" is a killer song. It slaps!"

Thomas laughed. "Roman, you sound like... uh... like something! I don't know what," he giggled, "but something! Wow, maybe we should go to bed..."

Roman huffed. "The movie is almost over! Let's just finish it!"

"Alright, alright," Thomas happily leaned into his fanciful side as the beginning notes began to play. "I guess it is basically almost the end of the movie! We might as well finish it."

He knew it wasn't, but it was a nice moment. He just wanted it to last.

Chapter Text

“You’re currently experiencing some form of anger,” Logan observed, leaving out that the anger was getting irritating to put up with. Why were the hallways in the darker part of the mindscape so tangled and difficult to navigate, anyway? Part of him worried that Remus may be leading him to certain doom, with the many turns and twists they’d taken.

Remus, very unusually, chose not to respond.

If he didn’t know better, Logan would assume that Remus was trying to avoid something. Which seemed completely absurd to the logic-based side. He couldn’t imagine the kind of creature or person who could make Remus more willing to wander the halls in a complicated maze walk rather than chance an encounter. There was always Deceit, he supposed. Though Deceit acted more irritated and exhausted towards Remus than aggressive, as far as Logan had observed. There was always the chance he acted differently in a separate environment. More data needed to be collected.

“Stop thinking so loud.”

Logan stopped again, looking in bewilderment at the back of Remus’ head. “I beg your pardon?”

Faster than a blink, Remus whirled on his heel and grabbed Logan by the front of his shirt, yanking them closer together as he bared his sharp teeth. “Then fucking beg, slut,” he growled out, his claws threatening to rip the polo.

Scowling, Logan grabbed the other’s wrists and dug his fingers in threateningly. “If you have something to say, then open your disgusting mouth and spit it out already.”

Remus closed his mouth.

Making eye contact as he did it, he spat on Logan’s glasses.

In hindsight, Logan questioned if anyone would have been able to hold their temper in that moment. As his fist connected with Remus’ jaw, the only thing on his mind was blinding rage, hot and throbbing through his vision.

He didn’t think. He just moved. Following Remus to the ground, he pulled back his arm again, and let it snap forward and force the other’s head to the side with enough force to make a crunch that, under any other circumstances, would have sickened him. In the heat of it all, the only thing he felt was the glee and satisfaction of victory.

And then the moment ended.

Logan jolted back in horror as he realized the extent of what he’d done. Remus’ nose was undoubtedly broken, and he’d punched the only guide he had in the dark zone.

He hastily scrambled up and off of Remus, muttering rushed and half-coherent apologies. If he was quick and focused enough, he could possibly duck out before the Duke came to his senses and tried to kill him in an area where his neutralizing powers were less potent and he might actually be injured. He needed to get away. He needed to get out. He needed to run from this, this damn feeling, always these feelings.

Remus sat up before he could finish his thought, the dark creativity’s head lagging behind his shoulders in a way that both terrified and attractively flexed his neck. He grinned, sleazy and wide, while blood trailed down his mouth, running between his teeth and dripping off his chin, making his mustache wet.

Logan muttered to himself that it was a lot of blood.

“Of couuuurse it is,” Remus drawled, yanking Logan out of his reprieve, “you really knocked me around, pocket protector! Why,” he licked the blood from his mouth and chin in a frankly inhuman way, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to get me aaaaaallll riled up!”

Distantly, some part of Logan was screaming that he needed to leave and get out of here. Before this escalated. Before any of this got worse. Before he made more mistakes, more errors, more--

Remus grabbed Logan by the shoulders and yanked him close, into a bruising kiss that tasted like copper.

For a moment, the logical side instinctively tensed, grimacing as the blood got in his mouth from the other trying to deepen the kiss. His better senses still pulled at him to flee and never look back, but Remus was roughly pushing him back to lay on the ground, and trying to shove his tongue - which Logan strongly suspected was some kind of tentacle - into his mouth, and he just…

Logan fell back to the cold concrete, Remus proudly over him on his hands and knees, grinning again as the logical side gave in.

He still winced as Remus tried to shove his definitely-a-tentacle tongue down his throat. It was off-putting, and he could compare the amount of saliva in the kiss to being slobbered on by a particularly large and murderous dog. Logan pulled away, breaking the wet kiss and wincing at the spit connected between them. “Can you try to not be such a…” he trailed off, losing his thought as Remus attacked his neck and clawed at his tie.

The logical side tried and failed to restart his sentence as Remus bit at his skin with a surprising amount of delicacy. He could almost call it tender, if such a word was something he could ever imagine calling Remus of all people.

“You’re making this difficult,” he finally managed, far too breathless sounding to be properly scolding. A sharp-toothed grin against his collar bone told him it was entirely intentional.

Logan tangled his fingers in Remus’ messy hair and sighed, giving up entirely on forming any rational sentences. There was already nothing rational about the entire situation. They were in the middle of the hallway in plain sight of anyone walking through, and Remus Creativity Sanders was sucking a hickey into his neck, in a too-easily seen area.

Something slimy and warm touched his wrist, and Logan shrieked on impulse.

Remus quickly pulled back in confusion. He looked around quickly, likely assuming they had been caught. “What the FUCK are you screaming about?!” the creativity glared, but Logan wasn’t looking at him.

Entranced, Logan sat up, and curled his fingers around the green tentacle laying inoffensively in his palm now.

“You have tentacles?”

“Fucking duh.”

Logan watched in amazement as Remus’ other slick appendages, all sprouting from the creative side’s back, wiggled at him in irritation. “I... since when,” he muttered, more to himself than Remus, “what… What function do they serve?”

Remus shrugged, one of his tentacles wrapping around Logan’s other arm. The muscle under the wet skin shifted, surprisingly strong and unyielding. “How would I know? They just help me hold things,” he dismissed, before excitedly exclaiming, “Oh! And they jerk me off, too! And of course, I put them in my ass. I have so much sex with myself. I’m constantly masturbating. All day, every day! Remember that erection medicine? That’s me. Me and my tenta--”

“Stop,” Logan interrupted, concerned that Remus would never reach the end of his rambling. He would rather focus on these… tentacles. The slickness was not entirely unpleasant, but he found it odd to touch.

“You stop!” Remus countered, shoving him back down, “if you’re that interested, I’ll show you what they can REALLY do!” His tentacles slid against his waist until Remus unbuckled his belt, letting them into the nerd’s pants, and drawing a startled squeak out of the other as slick warmth slid across his upper thighs. Remus grinned wide again, and Logan desperately hoped the conflicted arousal didn’t show on his face as literal tentacles felt him up.

Cheerfully pulling down Logan’s pants, Remus let his tentacles ravage the other’s legs, reveling in the soft noises it earned him. Logan cursed internally, wishing his thighs weren’t such a weak spot. This was the extract reason he never wore shorts!

Remus eagerly resumed his attack on Logan’s neck, undoubtedly trying to find more erogenous zones to exploit.

The feeling of slimy tentacles stroking his upper legs, sliding under his boxer shorts to flick against his hips and trail down, just shy of his groin, was pulling embarrassing and unprofessional noises from his throat. Logan squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to watch anymore, and slid his hand back into Remus’ hair.

Apparently getting tired of foreplay, the dark creativity sat up again, and roughly yanked Logan’s boxers off, ignoring the ensuing noise of irritation.

Logan jolted at the feeling of slimy warmth sliding up and under his leg.

“That. That won’t fit.”

“Oh ho ho, it will.”

“Remus.”

“Logan.”

There was a tense moment where Logan considered if Remus would genuinely do him extensive internal damage. Picking up on Logan’s distress, the darker creativity relented, and wordlessly shoved one hand’s fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly, before he pulled the tentacle back, replacing it with his hand. Trying not to show how relieved he was that Remus actually listened to his limits, Logan sighed, and tried to relax. “Do not cause lasting damage to me.”

Remus rolled his eyes and less than softly shoved two fingers in, probably just to hear Logan yelp if his smirk was anything to go by. “Trust me, Lolo. Once you get a taste of me, you’ll never get enough!”

One of his tentacles slid up and around Logan’s throat, the tip prodding at his lips. Reluctantly, the learning side opened his mouth, allowing the tentacle to slide in. The slime was bitter, tasing less like lime and more like lime flavoring on chips. It made him wince. Remus encouragingly stroked his sides with his free hand, smiling more softly as he scissored his fingers.

Logan whimpered around the tentacle in his mouth, curling his toes at the feeling, much to Remus’ enjoyment.

“Just swallow it,” he laughed, “since you’re so worried about getting it up the ass, I’ll be slow. Maybe I’ll find that stick while I’m up there!” Remus laughed more loudly, stopping to grin as his own laugh echoed off the walls.

A feeling of dread trickled down his spine, and Logan gave Remus a concerned look.

Remus rolled his eyes. “It’s not poison. It’s an aphrodisiac! It’ll make you feel really good, not kill you!” He made a face. “I wouldn’t kill you during sex just for fun. I have standards, like any professional slut!”

Logan glared up at him, but amicably gathered the slickness on his tongue and swallowed. It burned like whiskey going down, but Remus gave him a sickly sweet smile as he added a third finger. The sound of Remus softly cooing praise to him almost made Logan gag. He pushed at the tentacle to force it out of his mouth, glaring harder. “Can you not?”

Without hesitation, Remus pulled his fingers out, and flexed them before happily putting them in his mouth.

“Disg-- Oh!” Logan choked off as one of Remus’ tentacles slid inside of him. The feeling of it, squirming and working it’s way up into him, wasn’t something Logan was prepared for. It felt good, better than he had expected, and his senses seemed to dim as it thrashed inside of him.

Remus leaned in close, plucking Logan’s glasses off before pressing their foreheads together. “You’re so cute,” he whispered.

Logan grit his teeth as the tentacle slammed against his prostate. “Gah--!” Whimpers and gasps fell from his mouth, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. His mind felt fuzzy, all he could focus on was the pleasure racing up and down his spine. Stars swam in his vision. Whatever the hell was in that slime, it felt good.

He could barely register Remus pulling him up and dragging him to straddle his lap, or the sounds he himself was making, let alone the things Remus was saying. His spine arched as Remus roughly pressed their members together, sliding a tentacle around them.

Remus kissed him, softer than before, smiling when Logan pulled away to gasp and sob as the coil in his stomach wound tighter and his legs shook.

“Can’t, can’t, I’m gonna--”

The dark creativity shushed him and pulled Logan closer, murmuring something he couldn’t focus on. The tightening and sliding of silky, slimy skin on his, and the unrelenting pleasure from the tentacle inside of him, finally pushed him over the edge.

Logan couldn’t hold himself up, collapsing onto Remus and the tentacles continued to writhe. Sharp teeth sunk into his neck, making him keen. It was overwhelming and addicting.

He couldn’t stop.
Remus carefully laid Logan on his extravagant bed, mindful of his scratches and bites. He quickly grabbed the medical kit from under the bed and started cleaning and dressing all the bloody marks he’d made.

Cringing, he rifled through his dresser for a tee shirt to put on Logan, wishing he’d been more careful with the lighter side’s clothes.

“Idiot,” he muttered, “stupid idiot, now you’ve gone and fucking done it…!”

He needed to get this taken care of before dinner, or worse, before Patton or Deceit found out about it and put him through the wringer for brutally fucking and leaving bloody injuries on Logan.

Thank fuck Logan wasn’t dating one of the other sides, even Remus wasn’t a homewrecker. The light sides had made it pretty clear they had a work-only relationship.

That wasn't his fear, though. His fear was that Patton was going to kill him after he saw what Remus had done to Logan's neck.

Chapter Text

Logan watched the tower building with a sort of casual fascination. “I don’t quite see the point, to be completely honest with you.” 

He quietly observed how the duke was delicately placing each tissue box to finish constructing the wall of his so-called castle. And he wondered how exactly someone capable of creating anything, with a massive swathe of land in the mindscape to do it with, would be so thoroughly entranced with using… Tissue boxes to build his little world. It didn’t exactly click, so to speak. 

“The POINT is that I’m a big bad monster and I’m gonna ruin everything, that’s the point, Mr. Point-dex-durrrrrr.” Remus announced, blowing a raspberry at the other side for emphasis. 

It bothered Logan about as much as noting a fly in the room. Which is to say, not much. 

His lack of reaction clearly grated on Remus’ already flayed nerves. But he kept talking regardless. “If you really must know, Ro-Ro throws a piss baby tantrum, crying and pissing and cumming and shitting his pants, if I ruin any of his pretty little villages! So I make my own here, sometimes, when I don’t want to put up with him.” 

That made sense, and Logan nodded along, noting that Remus’ tone had gotten somewhat… mournful. 

Remus and Roman used to be two halves of the same whole. It made sense that they had some, well, conflicting feelings on the matter. Logan treaded cautiously here, knowing that Remus might blow his top if he didn’t choose his words carefully. 

He was perched on the edge of Remus’ large canopy bed, on the bright green covers. They were covered in stitched patterned sea creatures. Logan found it a bit endearing. 

“I’m not surprised you two struggle to share space. But I would have assumed he could remake something if you destroyed it.” Logan’s own lack of emotional intelligence slipped out without his knowing, implying Roman wouldn’t be upset about his creations being destroyed, but it didn’t escape Remus’ keen ears. 

Scoffing, the other creativity leveled Logan with a wholly unimpressed glare. 

An awkward silence ensued. It was broken only when Remus turned his attention back to his bizarre little city of empty tissue boxes. At least, Logan hoped they were empty. He didn’t want to imagine what Remus would put inside them if they weren’t. 

Probably nothing good, if past data was anything to go off of, but luckily for him, Remus deemed the city done after this. “HUZZAH! My creation! My gloooorious city!” 

He laughed maniacally, and Logan couldn’t help but find the cartoonishly exaggerated villainy endearing. Dealing with Remus was always a very casual thing for him, because he knew better than to feed into Remus’ insanity schtick. His signature approach may seem a bit like underestimating the duke to some, but he knew better than to call it that. The approach meant that he saw a more genuine side of the other man. It tended to lend him a sort of power over Remus, and the creativity would look to him in increasing desperation for a response every time. 

If Logan were to hazard a guess, he would assume Deceit did the same. It seemed like the best approach to dealing with Remus in general, to just not give him an inch. 

“Care to delight in this sexy destruction with me, oh glasses wearing sir dorks a lot?” Remus cackled, standing proudly over the weird little kingdom of tissue boxes. Much as he was an oddball and a threat to Logan’s heart, his eager grin was really endearing.

The logical side stood, and stretched, ignoring the conflicted look on Remus’ face when his borrowed shirt rode up and flashed the white bandages wrapped around his side from their little excursion yesterday. Logan wasn’t bothered by the ache, in fact, he found it quite pleasant. Just a physiological reaction feeding into a psychological display of pain. It meant that his body was functioning as designed. Nothing more, and nothing less. 

Slowly, and cautiously, he stepped into the tissue box kingdom. “I must confess that I have no idea what you expect me to do here.” 

Remus offered a hand to the other man, grinning like a fox. “Do you trust me? Just a lil teeny weenie tiny dicky wicky bit? I promise you won’t die or get maimed in any way that matters!” He proudly declared. 

It was embarrassing how quickly Logan took his hand. 

“I do trust you, to that extent.” He muttered, embarrassed at the heat rising in his cheeks. It caused Remus to make an odd face, all wide eyes and reddening cheeks, and Logan chose to simply ignore that for the sake of both of them. Emotions escaped him and Remus was an absolute explosion of emotional backlash at all times. 

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t even associate with each other, at least, not in Logan’s mind. 

He was unprepared for Remus to shrink them both down to the size of quarters, but now the destruction of the tissue box land made more sense. It was considerably more “based and bespoke,” as the kids would say, to destroy a bunch of tissue box walls when they were smaller than the boxes themselves.

“Let’s fucking wreck this bitch!” Remus shrieked in delight, brandishing his morning star eagerly. 

Chuckling, Logan couldn’t help but procure himself a sword of his own, and took on a fighting stance. “Down with the tyrannical Tissue Kingdom! The people of… Hm… The Kingdom of the Squids will rise!” He declared, unable to swallow a grin. 

It was silly, but bashing in the tissue boxes with Remus was a blast, actually. They took turns making up lore about their Squid Kingdom, and how they’d been oppressed and cheated by the Tissue Kingdom for so long. Logan was pleasantly surprised to see how creative Remus really was, even if his plots mirrored cheap hentai more than the traditional tales of storybooks. 

Unfortunately, the chaotic cardboard carnage didn’t fully distract Logan from the affectionate look on Remus’ face whenever their eyes met.