Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In a filthy neighborhood, in a broken-down home, in the middle of a dysfunctional ‘family’ lived Logan Crofters. Well, lived isn’t really the right word. More fittingly, he survived.

He survived flying fists, flung flasks, fights and famished fits. He was beaten, bruised, bullied and broken-down every moment of every day. When people got tired of his whimpering and whining, he was promptly shut into a room in the basement. He would sit there for days, neglected and left to rot away in puddles of blood and bile-filled vomit.

As he got older he learned ways of collecting food and bandages. He tried his best to stay out of the way, and when he was in his ‘room’ he would finally let out all the tears his parents— no, his guardians saw as weakness.

And he would spend his childhood there, save for the times when his guardians decided to take their anger out on him once again.

Although, in his opinion, his real parents were worse. They were the monsters, who dare to call themselves people, that left his 4-day old body in a dumpster, hoping he would be carried away and crushed in a compactor.

He would often look to his drawings of constellations in the ceiling, and wonder why fate decided to curse him. After all, he was treated like this because of Father Fate. The very second he was born, the world hated him. Because of the black heart marked into his forearm.

“It is ironic,” he thought, “that people like me get treated horribly, and then the world wonders why they do such terrible things to others.”

Logan had long since decided that he would break out of the life everyone expected him to live. He obeyed every command he was given. He accepted the punches and kicks without so much as a grunt as the years rolled by. He studied and read the crumbling novels and thesauruses left to be forgotten along with him in this room. He treated his abusers with as much respect as he could and was apathetic to all attempts to destroy his mind and self confidence.

He found supplies for a freak weather incident once, and he found joy for the first time in jars of sweet jam called Crofters. He loved them so much, he decided that he would share their name, since none of the adults who knew him wanted him to have any resemblance to them. And he knew as an adult, if he wanted to make it along to prove his point, he needed a last name. This was one he would remember.

At long last, he was 18. He was dragged up stairs and physically thrown out the door with nothing but the clothes on his person. He was screamed at; to never come back, to keel over and die already, to kill himself before they had to, and more. 

He pushed himself off the ground, turned to face the porch, and just gave them an empty smile. The demons at the door stood shocked, as the boy they treated so terribly, limped away with nothing more said.

He was left as sort of a robot, that served a purpose and then was left to its own devices. And he knew what his purpose was. He had known since the first time someone told him what the heart on his arm meant.

So as long as Logan proved to the world that he was not the color of his soulmark, then he would be content with and make at whatever life threw at him.

Chapter Text

Growing up, Patton Hart had everything. All he had to do was suggest an idea, before everyone around him immediately agreed with it. He was placed on a pedestal and had his way for everything. Thanks to the pure white heart on his wrist, he was born into a world of luxury and wealth.

Well, until middle school...

Everyone had shielded him from so much bad in the world, that he didn’t quite understand how the social hierarchy worked. He would stand up for all the kids. The ones with black and dark grey hearts would often find themselves in Patton’s company because he judged them on their actions, rather than the color on their sleeve.

Once, he had been talking with a severely overweight girl, her sleeves were rolled down, and secured with duct tape to keep them in place. He had never asked why for two reasons. One was because he hadn’t wanted to upset her. And two was because he thought it simply hadn’t mattered.

But it did... And Patton found out why in the worst way possible.

”And I think Mr. Wright said that one of the Heathers dies before the ending, but I honestly just hope it’s not Mac! She seems so sweet, even for a Heather!”

The girl, whose name he had long since forgotten, laughed and her eyes shifted away. He caught flashes of guilt anytime he caught her gaze as she spoke, “Patton you just see the good in everybody, and you- EEP!” 

She was shoves unto a desk and the desk was pushed to the side of the classroom.

Patton looked to his side in shock as his best friend, and three other boys, stood there with his fists clenched by his side.

Damian stood tall at 5’ 10”. An incredible  height for a 13 year old. His honey blond hair was slicked back and pinned underneath an expensive bowler hat, as always. His vitiligo, often used to be a trait he was bullied for, but Patton befriended him. Soon, they became the best of friends and now he wears it with pride.

And now, he was the bully.

”Damian I’m surprised at you!” Patton gasped. “Why did she do!?”

His friend just sneered, while the other boys laughed and pointed at the quaking girl on the floor, before shielding Patton like a barrier. “This heartless had the gall to talk to you! Who knows what it could have done to you!” 

“It?! Dee she’s a she and we were only talking—“

”Yeah maybe for now!” He sighed and faced his gullible, naive friend. “Patton, people like us don’t... talk to... ‘people’ like that.” A full body shudder ran down Dee’s spine as he seemingly forced himself to call the poor girl a person, for Patton’s sake.

The girl had risen and her posture straightened to match his. She glared at Dee with a glint of terror in her eyes as she shakily spoke, “Yeah well why would I want to be with people like you?”

And before he knew it, Damien and the other kids in the room had her by the hair and limbs, tearing off the sleeves of her shirt and all but ripping it apart at the seams. “Look!” Shouted the heterochromatic child.

And so look he did, seeing an exposed pitch black heart covered in a litany of scars, some no more than a few days old.

Patton gasped, and covered his mouth with tears threatening to spill out of his eyes and splash the cuffs of his cardigan.

”Why didn’t you tell me?” He croaked out with a small sob. “I can’t believe you’re-“ 

“Patton! I’m so sorry! I knew you’d hate me and I-“ the girl started to quickly explain herself, working herself into a frenzy.

”NO!” Patton yelled. Damian and co. watched with a sick satisfaction, thinking that finally the soft boy would put someone in their place. “I may be sad that you would hurt yourself like that, but if anything you should hate me for not noticing that you were struggling! I’m the one who should be sorry!” His tears flowed like twin rivers down the expanse of his face, yet he opened his arms to embrace the girl in front of him.

”WHAT!?!?” A blond boy shrieked. “She is heartless Patton! Look at the bigger back picture!!”

”Yeah, she’s just a pathetic waste of your time!” Another kid added.

”Patton,” Damian spoke softly, “I know you try to see the best in people, but she isn’t a person. She will grow up to do horrible, evil things. She is evil. And we can’t have her ruining you.” 

With those final words, he turned and threw the girl to the ground once more. A metal mace appeared in the hands of one boy with the beginnings of a wispy mustache under his nose, and he swung it down on her leg. A blood-curdling wail pierces through Patton’s tears. 

“No! What are you-“

”Remus, hold him. We don’t want him getting hurt.” He stomped on her hand with his thick, black combat boots. A nauseating snap mingled with the shouts of agony.

”Damian no! Stop! Stop hurting her! She didn’t do anything! Stop!! Please!! DAMIAN!!!” Patton was held back by the man with a mace, pouting and grumbling having missed the fun. 

Every kick, stomp, bruise and break that sounded through the classroom was felt by both innocents in the room.

Patton clawed, smacked and fought as much as he could to escape the steel grip on his biceps. But nothing he did shook off Remus. And when the one-sided fight finally ceased, he was dropped to the floor as sobs viciously left his throat. 

He didn’t stop crying for hours afterwards. Not when the ambulance arrived. Not when his parents embraced him. Not when Damian called him later that night. Only when he had no energy left did he finally stop, and even in his sleep tears trickled down his red face.

And in the morning, his parents, who had always been on his side for everything and anything he had ever done, told him he was overreacting. Told him he was wasting tears on something that didn’t deserve them. 

Patton was forced to grow up that day, and take a long look at the world around him. He realized that life wasn’t all smiles and happiness. People were not treated equal, no matter what the law or government said. 

And a lesser man would have accepted that nothing could be done, and moved on. But Patton was not. He wore the whitest heart anyone had ever seen for a reason. He made a promise to himself that he would never treat himself better than anyone else.

The next day, after the poor girl had passed away while in a medical coma at the hospital, Patton ran away. He refused to live with the people in his house. He refused to stay friends with Damian and his band of bullies. He was going to make a difference, and he couldn’t do it there.

And as a 13-year old on the streets, he had to use his status to keep out of trouble for sleeping in alleys and such. He disgusted himself every time. He felt wrong for using something he didn’t deserve to his advantage, but he smiled through anyway.

He was going to change the world, the world just didn’t know it yet.

Chapter Text

 Logan spent his years working in the library. With no real education, and the color of the heart on his arm, it was impossible for him to expect to get anywhere he wanted to in life. He had resigned to working in Sideview Library in exchange for living in one of the back rooms.

Every day at 6 A.M. he would open his eyes and get to work. The floors were always shining and no book was ever out of place for long. The regulars would smile at him, thinking that he was just dedicated to his career. Had any one of them seen the mark on his forearm, they would have demanded him to be fired. Removed from the place of peace, even though he was the one who kept it running.

Logan knew the place inside and out. There were exactly 23 stairs on the left staircase, but only 22 on the right. There were four chairs that wobbled in the teen section, and no matter how many repairmen came to fix it, they would wobble until someone threw them away.

He knew that the owner, Thomas, took in people who had nowhere else to go. He hired them and allowed them to cover their tattoos in anyway necessary.

It was a widely known fact that once you touched your soulmate, you could no longer cover your mark with makeup, paint, ink, or even a tattoo. The heart would shine through anything but fabric... and in this world it’s all too easy to just pull up a sleeve and ruin everything you worked for.

One man who worked here, Damon. He covered his entire left side of his body with scaled tattoos, even went as far as to draw them on his face. If his sleeve were to slip down, you’d see the pattern of a Burmese python, in brilliant yellow and greens. He also had a black heart. Logan only knew because he was told by Damon that his heart was pure white.

From the moment he met him, he lied consistently. He said he has no soulmate, no tattoo at all. Yet he wears a pair of horrendously yellow gloves, along with long sleeves, a high collar and pants, to prevent an accidental touch from ruining the life he has been able to build for himself.

One other boy worked here. He was Thomas’ nephew, although you would guess he was his son. Thomas constantly checked in on him. Hugging him from behind to surprise him. Making sure he ate. Calling Logan at 2 A.M. to force him to go to sleep. The only reason Logan knew he wasn’t biologically his son, was because Thomas radiated such an intense aura of “gay” that the image of him procreating with a female was impossible to create even in his imagination.

He didn’t know the nephew’s name. He only went by “Anxiety”. Logan found that to be quite odd and frankly self-deprecating to refer to oneself solely by their unavoidable mental illness. But that’s what he insisted upon, no matter how many times the nerdy, curious man pestered him about it. 

He also didn’t know what shade of heart that Anxiety wore on his wrist. He wore a purple and black, badly stitched hoodie. And covered the arm underneath with some kind of foundation because once his hoodie caught on fire in the communal kitchen, and when he threw it off himself, Logan couldn’t see a heart on him.

Granted, it was possible that Anxiety simply didn’t have a soulmate, but the odds of that were infinitesimal. 

Logan himself, wore foundation, covered with hairspray every day to prevent it from rubbing off. He claimed to not have another half. He wore short sleeves every day. Even in the winter, knowing that if others thought he wasn’t hiding anything, they would figuratively and maybe literally hose him down and expose him.

And he wanted a soulmate. He really did. He offered his hand to anyone who would take it. And each time he was left disappointed. He figured if he could just convince his soulmate to give him a chance, then they’d see he want born evil. He wasn’t meant to be beneath everyone, or killed for their safety. He was human, just like them.

But that’s just how things are unfortunately.

—— Little bit of a POV shift but not really cauz I am the all-knowing, all-powerful author but shush——

Patton has been acting as the manager of his best friend’s uncle’s veterinarian clinic for 6 years now. Once he graduated high school in Sanderville, he moved to Sideview with his best friend. Virgil worked and lived at the library that his uncle also owned. Thomas owned a lot of the town now that he thought about it. His heart was almost as pure white as Patton’s. He was cast in many TV shows, plays and movies. He was even the voice actor for the world’s first gay Disney prince!

Patton, still never wanting to use his status to his advantage, worked his at up to where he was now. Thomas said two more years of this, and he will have earned the right to own the place. 

He was so excited! He loved helping the animals. Each and every one that came through those doors had a special place in his heart. Virgil has even given him a cat hoodie to wear around at work so he didn’t have to show his heart to anyone.

There was a particular man who came in one day. He had crooked teeth that almost looked fake, but I mean, who would want to wear crooked, fake teeth? He had a black, glittery shirt and a bright green sash across it. His mustache looked oily, and so did his hair, a grey streak flopped directly over his eyes. And when he brought in a snake that had been run over, he was playing around with it’s guts as he carried it in! He didn’t even greet Patton until he turned incredibly pale. Patton quickly took the poor thing from the man, then he yanked down Patton’s sleeve, demanding to know, “Who are you to try and rule over me!? I am Remus Duke!!”

Patton wasn’t proud of it, but in that moment he was happy to see that he wasn’t the one who had turned pale. Seeing the pure white heat on his sleeve, Remus quickly left. Not even apologizing! Just scared of the consequences Patton supposed.

When he told Virgil, he was rewarded with a barely concealed snort of laughter. Patton spent day, after day in the clinic. Around a year ago, he met Roman Prince. The resemblance to Remus was unbelievable, but when Roman came in with a bright smile, a polite wave and an application, Patton knew he at least deserved a chance. 

Roman has been at his side ever since! They were productive and friendly co-workers, and even better friends. In fact, this weekend Roman would be moving into his apartment. It was too big for just Patton, and Virgil was still refusing to move in, claiming that he would be mooching off of him. While it wasn’t true, he also knew nothing could convince his little shadowing.

The day came for the Prince to move in with the Hart. It was steaming hot in the Florida weather. And Patton has already resigned himself to wearing foundation on his arm, instead heading outside in a baby blue tank top and white overall shorts. Roman wore white booty shorts, that definitely got comments from some of the other residents. But he still wore a long sleeved jersey from high school.

After more than a few texts from Patton begging for help and bribing him with cookies, Virgil had come around to help out. He tried to keep his hoodie on, but eventually took it off, leaving the Ace bandage on underneath. He also had some comments about “Princey’s”, as he had dubbed him himself, shorts. Although they were said more with a red face and a dropped jaw to Patton, but he made sure to tell Roman that Virgil hadn’t found his soulmate either. After all, he had been pointing out “his adorable dimples” and “the windswept purple hair like a goddamn movie star” and “omg that ass Patton did you see that omg Patton quick go drop something else”.

Later, when all the boxes were finally inside, Virgil tripped over a box, only to be caught by Roman. They both gasped as their hearts shone bright. A lovely shade of ash warmed the room. Roman picked up Virgil as he squealed and spun them around.

Virgil stood up, wobbling a bit and he tried to step forward only to fall against his soulmate’s chest. Both blushed, although someone’s white foundation hid a bit of it. They leaned in and kissed passionately for a good five seconds before Patton broke the mood by squealing and bouncing up and down.

A month later, Roman went to pick Virgil and Patton up to see the latest Disney remake of Cinderella. Being the theater dork-asaurus he was, he woke Patton up wearing a Prince costume and insisted he needed to wear blue bows in his hair, with his blue skirt to be the fairy godmother. He was always happy to play along with his kiddo. He just felt like... I don’t know. Just like the world was smiling down on him today.

He brushes his hair, wore blue bows and ribbons through his curly hair. He adorned a sky blue skirt and threw his cat hoodie on top. Roman whined a little about having messed up the look, but one Dad-look©️ and he promptly shut up and danced to the car. Patton giggles and followed. On his way to the library!

And on the way he thought about meeting his soulmate. It would probably take some time, but he hoped to convince whoever he was that he wasn’t someone to be put on a pedestal. He wasn’t a person who could do no wrong. He was human, just like everyone else.

But that’s just how things are unfortunately.

——Guess what babes, POV shift again, but still only kind of, deal with it——

Logan relished in routine. 0600: wake up. 0800: unlock the doors. 0815: wake Damon, who proceeds to wake Anxiety up in some kind of awful way. (Side note- once he decided it would be a good idea to download a piano on his phone for the sole purpose of attaching it to the library speakers and playing a G note... lets just say that Dee has since learned to run faster after waking Anxiety.) 1000: Wake Anxiety a second time in the corner. 1200: eat lunch, and make sure Damon doesn’t steal any while he isn’t looking. 1600: Find Damon and make sure he isn’t smoking again in the back lobby. 

You get the point.

Logan’s entire life has been this library for over 9 years now. He knew how things worked, and they rarely ever changed. But when they did, he hated it. He wanted to know what was going on, why it was happening, and who needed to change it.

Recently, Anxiety was acting... weird? Different? Wrong? It was a good change yes, but it was so out of character that Logan’s brain couldn’t help but blare sirens 24/7. He had asked Anxiety where he was going numerous times before. But today, he was determined to find out.

The night before Anxiety told Logan and Damon that he had to leave at exactly 12:25. Logan logically assumed that someone was picking him up at 12:30.

And being the curious man he was, he set the clocks back 10 minutes. Not noticeable unless you were on a device. In fact, Logan had “broken” Anxiety’s phone later that night, and promised to fix it. So that just meant he had to keep him away from the computers.

Logan gave the slightly younger male some of his own usual tasks, claiming he had a headache. Anxiety looked a bit peeved, but did them nonetheless.

And sure enough, 12:32 on the dot according to his correctly timed watch, a loud bang and an even louder voice sounded at the entrance.

”Virgil!!! We have to go to the movies even if you died!!”

Another voice could be heard shushing him, but the damage was already done. Anxi- Virgil. Virgil looked at him as if he was killing him in a thousand ways inside his head.

And then that glare fell away when he saw the flamboyant figure behind him. Logan turned and was, funnily enough, surprised. This guy looked just like a Disney prince. Not really his type, but apparently Virgil’s as he was promptly scooped into the other’s arms as he exclaimed, “My soulmate! Oh my love you live! You’re never late and P-“ 

Logan cut him off. “As much as I understand your excitement to see An- er Virgil, I must ask that you keep your voice down while in the library.”

He was polite and monotone when he said this, not at all expecting the man to reply with, “Oh shut up Nerd! There’s like, no one else here but some guy who looks like he just got finished washing some dishes.” He points to Damon. 

“And me!” A soft, but bubbly voice from behind him says.

Logan turned around and his breath was sucked out of him, pulled toward the magnetic beauty of the man in front of him. He wore a skirt that rested mid thigh, while his soft, curly hair was braided with ribbons and pinned by bows. A sweet smile spread across his face even more perfectly than a spoonful of Crofters over toast. His arms were raised above his head in celebration, covered with a feline-themed jacket. 

If Logan could choose his soulmate, it would be him. But there was no way. This perfect, adorable man-child was too good for him. He was pulled out of his thoughts by snickering behind him.

”What?” He asked a bit testily, after all they had directed his attention away from the other man. Looking back at him, he was now bright red, and looking at Logan with a shy smile. “I am serious. What are you laughing at?”

Damon stopped chortling to speak up, “You- haha! Whew okay! You most certainly did *not* refer to Patton as ‘perfect, adorable man-child that’s way too good for you’!” He draped an arm over Virgil as he held one of his sides, even going so far as to let a tear trickle down his cheek.

Oh. Well that explained why Patton was embarrassed. He turned back to apologize to him, but he was so much closer than before. Less than an arms reach away, he stood there, pink tinging his ears and nose, a smile wide and looking as if it were only for Logan.

“I- thank you, Logan... It’s nice to meet you too.” He blushed harder and offered his hand to shake.

It was now or never. Logan looked at the offered hand. If he accepted, he would know for sure this man wasn’t his soulmate. But it was probably better that way. Someone like Patton shouldn’t have to be stuck with someone with a black heart like him.

So he grabbed the other’s hand before immediately ripping it back as a feeling of warmth and happiness spread from his palm to his heart, and throughout his entire body. His short-sleeved shirt betraying him as the burnt color on his arm shone brightly. And from Patton’s sleeve a pure white heart shone through.

He would ruin him. He had never believed in the roles set up by society, but now he understood. He would ruin this man’s life. He had just met him and he loved him already. 

He looked up at him, seeing his awed face look at his now exposed heart. Smiling brightly, most likely not having noticed what a terrible soulmate he was stuck with. Logan memorized that look of happiness on his face, before turning and bolting away.

He heard them shout. He knew they saw his tears, and he knew they saw the color of his heart. And so he ran. Through the back door, past a confused Thomas, and into his room. He locked it, slamming his back into it as he sank down to his knees.

And in between the tears, he thought one thing. “It would be better this way.”

Chapter Text

A lot happened that day. It was going to be another day of routine for our lovely nerd, and another day of excitement with his famILY for our lovable lil cinnamon bun. And then.... well then the two found out they were soulmates— and the whole world was quaking right along with them.

Patton was sad that Logan had run away, of course he was. I mean, just imagine your perfect match rejecting you at the very notion of being stuck with you for life.

But he understood too. He could see the fear in Logan’s entire form as he ran off, running without a clue as to where he was going. He was scared because of the pitch black darkness emanating from his skin. He was scared Patton would hate him. He was scared of what someone with as much influence as a pure-white hearted person like Patton could do to him.

Patton thought that maybe he ran off so he could reject Patton before it happened to him. Or maybe because he was terrified of getting caught up in the horror stories of soul trafficking, just for having a dark heart on your sleeve.

It all made sense to anyone who didn’t know Patton. But... the thing is he was /Patton/ ! The same Patton who had long ago known that he would love his soulmate regardless of the shade of their heart. The same Patton who had vowed to get to know them before deciding if he liked them. He wouldn’t marry them just because they were his soulmate like a majority of the world did. He had the choice, and so did his soulmate

But gosh Logan was already so sweet and smart. Adorably calling Patton perfect without having meant to.

But then... but then he had run away, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why Logan had looked so scared. It broke his heart to see tears running down his face as he ran off. The tears and fear Patton had caused, regardless of whether he had meant to or not, the fact of the matter is that Patton’s soulmate was in pain because of Patton.

And so in that moment, Patton decided that he wouldn’t give Logan a reason to feel like that ever again.

He walked back to where Logan was, not in the right mindset to speak to Thomas, and he knew the kind man understood. Because Patton was on a mission.

Standing outside the only closed door, Patton held his breath and listened. He could hear him babble nonsense about having to run away and make a new life all over again. He heard snippets of abuse and soulism (like racism but from heart color if you couldn’t tell ;) ) explode from his mouth due to his train wreck of thoughts that completely disassembled his logic.

He knelt beside the door, and knocked. Hearing Logan’s breath catch and the mumbling cease almost made tears of his own fall down his cheeks, but he took a deep breath.

“Logan? It’s me... Patton... your soulmate.” And he could hear scrambling, either Logan moving away from the door, or hiding somewhere. And gosh if his heart hadn’t already felt crushed by an anvil, it would have surely fallen apart just then.

“I- I know how the world treats people like you. And it’s just- gosh it’s /awful/! I want you to know that I- I won’t /force/ you to date me, or even get to know me but... I don’t care what color the stupid mark on your arm is. I want to- I want to get to know you, for you.”

There was still silence from the other side of the door. Logan sat with his back pressed against the opposite wall, hand clasped over his mouth to keep quiet. It sounded too good to be true. That his soulmate, with a /pure white heart/ wouldn’t care about his pitch black one. He knew he didn’t care about what society said... but why would this man disregard his place? He had all the power, influence, wealth and land he could ever want. Literally, anything and everything he could ever want... why would he want Logan of all people?

He wasn’t anything special. He was a self-educated loser with barely two friends and a life built on solitarian ideals. Why would someone so obviously emotional, charming and likable ever look twice at someone like Logan? He searched his dizzying mind for an explanation and found none that had s happy ending. After all, Logan was well aware of the horrors that happened daily to people born like him.

And so he stayed silent. Waiting for Patton to explode in anger that he hadn’t taken the bait. But all he heard was silence from the other side. So logically, he must have walked away. But then...

“You know Logan, I really don’t care about soul status.” Patton began. He had sat himself similar to Anna waiting outside Elsa’s door. With his back against it, holding back tears as he curled into his knees. “I never have. It didn’t seem important. And ha! Wasn’t that a laugh and a half...”

He sounded so hollow to Logan’s ears. As if by revealing themselves to be perfect halves, he took both pieces with him as he ran off. But... then why did Logan feel so empty inside as well?

“My point is that- I want to get to know you Logan. A person is a beating heart, no matter what shade. All I can hope for, and ask of you, is to give me a chance.”

That made him pause. A pause to reconsider and evaluate. Was Logan a person? He had grown up accepting his life existing as something less than human. Something not worth the time of day without a specific purpose to fulfill. Could Patton really not want anything from him?

Logan’s heart yearned to accept that this was the truth. He wanted so badly to love someone who would be so affectionate and kind to a person like Logan, a person no one would send a second glance to. But his mind, wouldn’t let his limbs move to open the door.

It could be a trick. It could be a plot to handcuff and gag him before selling him to the highest bidder on the black market. It could be part of some plan to knock him out and throw his body off a bridge into a sea full of sharp rocks and sharks. He could open that door and either be thrown into a life of slavery or end his life in that very moment.

But— it could also be the truth... He could open that door, go on a few dates and actually have someone to love him. Someone to stick by him when he needed them. Someone to make him not feel so alone. His heart was broken by now... but maybe the pieces were not as long gone as he thought. Maybe there was a chance that this man could hold the slow-relieving cure in his kiss; and maybe his life wouldn’t need to end in tragedy and death and tears!

At some point he had moved out from his hiding place, and up to the door, one hand on the knob, the other on the lock. He had this one choice. One choice to decide whether or not he would trust Patton. One choice that if he screwed it up could mean death. One. Choice.

He turned his wrists, violently unlocking the door, and turning the knob at the same time. And before his anxiety could convince him otherwise, he jumped back and opened the door suddenly in one smooth movement....

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He blinked....

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A flash of silver went right by his face...

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He barely had the time to shriek in surprise, barely able to shield his face....

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BANG!!!

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“Ow my head! That wasn’t very- oh.”

Patton laid on the floor, where he had fallen once the door opened, clutching the base of his skull that had hit the hard, tiled floor; because without a warning he hadn’t the time to move, or even try to keep himself upright, instead creating a loud bang- wellllllll... more like a thud now that I think about it.

Patton looked up at Logan with a light pink blush dusting across his cheekbones at having fallen. Logan was biting his lip and looking away with a dark red tint covering his entire face.

“Sorry... I didn’t think you’d be leaning against the door.” Logan rubbed the back of his neck and adjusted his glasses before offering a hand to the other male. Their hands connected with the same rush of warmth that flooded their veins and filled their hearts until felt as if it would burst. But they didn’t let go.

Patton smiled shyly up to him, twisting his fingers together as he spoke. “Well... you didn’t ask... how were you supposed to know?”

Logan chuckled as his hand never fell from Patton’s warm grasp. He smiled widely and squeezed just a little tighter. “I suppose I’ll have to work on that.”

Patton giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Yeah... they’d be okay... he could just feel it!

Chapter Text

It took a while, for Logan and Patton to work things out. Logan often had trouble opening up and allowing himself to feel emotions. Whereas Patton, had a hard time asking for things he wanted and expressing the emotions he felt on a regular basis. Both soulmates tended to repress their feelings and dislikes, instead relying on the other to be the decisive partner of their relationship.

As you can tell, it didn’t really work out. And so at first they struggled. There were a lot of awkward conversations, and days spent with each half of their shared soul beating themself up for something that had happened days before they isolated themselves, rather than actually confronting each other about it.

But eventually, they went from being nothing-more-than-friends, to dating and testing things out, to being boyfriends, to moving into their own house and letting Roman and Virgil keep Patton’s old apartment! Things were going well over those first 21 months before Logan proposed.

Though that’s not to say the proposal was any less beautiful.

Logan had taken Patton back to the library they had first met, Virgil had allowed them to use the backroom for a movie night and cuddle session since he now ran the place. And as they watched Aladdin, Logan got down on one knee in front of the couch and spoke softly while Patton cried happy tears. 

“You are my whole new world. The most fantastic point of view I’ve ever seen, and the only one I want to spend the rest of my life’s journey with. Because despite the color of our hearts, we’re just people. We feel the same, and deserve the same treatment. I love you Patton Hart. Will you give me the honor of becoming whole with you, my other half, and marry me?”

And of course Patton said yes... okay so he had shouted it at the top of his lungs while tears poured mascara down his cheeks as if he were imitating Virgil, and then promptly gave Logan a nasty bump on his forehead when he had been too excited and jumped forward to kiss him and missed. But it had so been worth it— to both lovers. 

They were married in Thomas’ backyard where Roman and Virgil’s wedding occurred less than a year later. Patton has at this point, taken over the veterinarian clinic, and Logan had taken a job recently to be an online accountant and work with the numbers he loved so much and maintaining his beloved order and logical reasoning— though of course, nothing came even close to the love he felt for Patton.

The years afterwards went on slowly, with both soulmates cherishing each and every day they were granted with one another. Logan became quite successful in his new job that allowed him to be home almost 24/7. And Patton had convinced his husband to allow them to take in a previously-abused pup.

Logan vehemently protested that he despised the little trouble-maker; but Patton knew his husband would spend hours on his stomach cooing softly to Polly and petting her subconsciously whilst he worked and typed with one hand just to make the golden retriever happy.

The years passed by and soon they were no longer 28 and running away from each other in fear of judgement and hurt from their other half. Instead, they were close to 40 and starting the day with soft, sleepy smiles, and ending them all with loving kisses and warm embraces that eventually gave in to unconscious cuddling. 

Things were absolutely perfect for a couple who received so much hate from their community for their bond. Logan was constantly accused of manipulating, bribing, forcing, blackmailing, and even hypnotizing Patton into being his lover. They suspected he had done these things to avoid being shipped off to a federal institution to be given the death penalty for nothing more than the color of the heart on his arm.

Though, sometimes... sometimes all the threats, curses, discrimination, and hate got to them. Patton would spend his time making Logan feel loved and appreciated because he feared Logan believed the lies people spoke. Though of course, Patton refused to believe Logan had even the capability to hurt him, let alone be actively planning to do so.

And Logan would spend his time apologizing to Patton for any inconvenience, whether it was his fault or not. He feared that perhaps he had somehow subconsciously persuaded Patton to love him. Maybe his more reserved tendencies were considered neglect? Maybe he was abusing Patton without even knowing it? 

As you can guess, Logan grew to develop quite a diagnosis of paranoia, and Patton eventually was sent to therapy to help with his more depressive episodes.

Though, these visits to psychiatrists and therapists were most not definitely not the majority of their existence as a happy, soul-bonded couple that defied societal standards. They shared many laughs, many passionate nights, and many, many hours just enjoying each other’s company.

But... Fate has a way of wriggling through the cracks of your foundation.

Fate has a way of completing what it has set out to do despite your best efforts of preventing the outcome.

Fate... is a fucking bitch.

And unfortunately, fate would never leave Logan alone... 

From the moment Logan was born, he was marked to be destructive, evil and unloved. And Fate refused to be ignored.

It was, maybe March? Perhaps April when news about a pair of serial robbers broke out in their neighborhood. They were only stealing from successful stores and such, but they were getting away with it due to leaving little, to absolutely no evidence.

Patton most certainly never expected to empty out the veterinarian clinic‘s monthly donation jar, walk home only about a block and be followed into his house as he ran up to embrace his husband.

Logan caught the sprinting, chubby and adorable man with ease and laughed deeply. Logan had the kind of laugh that sounds like it was dipped in honey before swirling itself in a delightfully, flowery aroma of tea before it reached your ears. He chuckled and it held depth and love in every last vibration of his vocal chords.

It was when Logan’s sleeve was pulled up accidentally, and he shoved it back down with a guilty look on his face. Patton leaned down and kissed his soulmate’s black heart, when the robbers were just making their way to the exit. 

They were disgusted by the display and assumed that they could be Robin Hood impersonations. It was so easy to say that they stole from this obviously black-hearted couple— because, honestly who else would marry and genuinely love someone like Logan?

The robbers came out with guns. They shouted at the ‘disgusting cinders’ (cinder is a color of black and used as a derogatory term in this universe) to put their hands up. Logan and Patton were startled and quickly lifted their hands. 

The middle portion of the event was different for everyone involved. The robbers were running on pure hatred, discriminative thoughts and rage— so basically they were just acting and spitting out words full of poison without really thinking.

For Logan, he was so confused. There were people in their house, he was being screamed at like he had been every single day, so long ago. Time skipped pieces and he blocked out most of that fateful night...

And for Patton? Well he watched as the robbers recognized his pure white heart and saw everything in slow motion. He watched everyone’s emotions play across their face and reflect from their eyes with a serene haze over everything. He... he knew what would happen. There was no stopping where this was headed, all he could do was remind the one he loved to stay strong and wait for him.

A blur passed in different ways for the four individuals before The Moment happened.

One robber had Patton secured; one hand tightly around his waist, and another gripped his chin tightly and forced him to look up at Logan. Logan was being spoken to, and only when cold metal was place don his hand did he finally jolt out of his defensive disassociation. 

“So a fuckin’ cinder thinks it can jus’ have someone like a pure?!”

”I know baby, I don’ know what it thinks it is, but clearly it needs to be taught a lesson~”

Patton couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his cheeks as he protested. “Logan is a he! You need to respect him! He is a breathing heart just like y-you or me! He- He would never hurt me!”

The robbers laughed nasally and hacked up spit as they’re voices polluted the calm air that once lived in the Crofters’ house. Now? Now it was just chaos and accumulating poison.

”Ha! Oh Joey did ya hear ‘im?”

”Mary I sure fuckin’ did. You wanna see wha’ a cinder does little boy? Ya wanna know how bad it is?” He wrapped Logan’s hand around the pistol in their conjoined hands. He points the shaking gun at Patton’s chest. “Shot him! Prove ya nothin’ but a filthy fuckin’ piece of shit! You aren’t a person an’ you don’ even deserve ta live let alone fuckin’ have a pure husband!”

”I wish we’s was pure Joey~ Oh how wonda’ful life would be~”

”Shut up, bitch. I’m tryin’ ta teach ‘im a lesson!”

”Sorry baby...”

Logna looked aghast as he struggled to point the gun away from Patton, his finger placed unwillingly over the trigger. “N-No! I won’t! I— I would never hurt him!”

Joey sneered as he ripped the gun away and began to beat Logan. His glasses were the first things to break— though only a few milliseconds before his nose shattered with a sickening crunch and wet squelch of blood. 

Patton was sobbing quietly as he whispered soft pleads, but who knows what they were for. For Logan to do it and save himself the hurt or for the robbers to stop. It could be either or both or none of those things at all. Maybe he was praying for help to arrive despite them not having had the time to alert anyone.

Logan had bruised balls, a broken nose, three broken fingers, a missing tooth and a large purple and black bruise that spread across almost his entire rib cage— he’s 80% sure his lowermost bronchicaridal rib was bruised at the very least, if not broken.

Patton was hiccuping from tears at this point. 

Joey became frustrated and barked orders at Mary... who... “Oh god— no... no! Don’t touch him!”

Patton squirmed and began to panic as Mary’s hands went inside his pants. He sobbed and babbled for help— for, “Anyone, anyone at all, Logan please! P-Please just do what they say!”

”ALRIGHT! I- I WILL! J-JUST— just stop... p-please...” Mary smirked as she stopped touching Patton and shoved the white-hearted male into his knees unceremoniously with a loud thud.

Logan winced, and swallowed thickly as he was given the gun. His arm was shaking tremendously as he was let go to point it at Patton. His soulmate, his other half, his husband, his best friend... he looked him in the eyes and nodded subtly. Logan let a sob rip from his mouth as he cocked the pistol, aimed at Patton’s forehead...

BANG!

Joey screamed as Logan quickly fumbled to cock the gun and then around to shoot the other robber. Patton stayed where he was, sobbing as the instantly dead body of Mary was slumped over him, blood trickling into his eyes and mouth but unable to make himself move enough to get her off him.

Why didn’t the neighbors call after hearing Logan scream? After hearing the gun shot? Because the world is a fucking bitch. Because the world is ruled by an unfair, ruthless and bitchy asshole called fate. The soulism that the community held onto like fucking leeches was insanely dangerous... especially after what followed. Because no one, not a single person called for help. 

Joey snarled as he fought with the beaten Logan; but since Logan was severely disadvantaged, it wa damaging that he lasted almost an entire half of a minute with the struggle with the gun. Both of Joey’s hands forced Logan to point the gun at Patton and the blue-eyed angel looked up and spoke in a raspy voice, “I lov—“

BANG!

Logan slumped and sobbed as Patton’s eyes rolled back up into his eyes, with the bullet having pierced his chest directly where his heart was because Patton didn’t even slowly fall down. His body just went completely lax as Logan screamed out in agony.

They want a murderer? They want someone who doesn’t care about anything or anyone at all? They want someone with a truly black heart inside their chest rather than simply branded on their arm?! Well now, they’ve fucking got one.

Logan’s teeth tore into Joey’s flesh. His fingers were broken with the strength of biting down on a carrot, and Logan didn’t give a shit. The blood was everywhere as his nails tore the robber apart. His eyes were feral as he sobbed for Patton and repeated the words, “I love you too baby, I l-love y-you so fucking much,” over and over again.

He was a broken man. He was nothing more than the color of the heart on his arm. He was without his other half... and despite him not wanting to, he still pulled that trigger— even though his logical mind knew damn well that having Joey pull it with his finger was not the same thing as doing it himself.

When Joey’s body was mutilated beyond belief, Logan went out with blood all over his hands and face. He slammed inside all the houses who doubted him and tried to prove he was black-hearted. Now he was!! And yet they still weren’t fucking happy with him! They just screamed and called the police, but only because they were being threatened. Where the hell were they when Patton was the life that was in immediate danger?!

Logan was able to go through four houses, 18 victims total including Patton, Mary and Joey before he was tranquilized by the state’s police force that should’ve fucking come when PATTON needed them!

At the institution, Logan spent his days either sobbing in a corner with big mittens on his hands to keep hooked from scratching his face and chest to punish himself for his sins— or screaming raging and being forcefully transported to the big fluffy room that reminded Logan of Polly. He missed his love so fucking much... but there wasn’t much he could other than scream when kept in a straight jacket and isolated from anyone who would hear him.

Good job fate? You finally pulled one over one Logan Crofters... I hope you’re happy.