#tss fanfic

[delimeful]

Defender

warnings: bickering, theoretical violence, that's basically it this one's fluffy

Part 8 of MC AU!

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“And you’re sure that this will prevent the village’s valiant defender from attacking Anxiety on sight?” Roman asked, visibly concerned. “Absolutely sure that there won’t be hitting or striking or slaying of any variety?”

Logan disliked repeating himself, and this would be the third time he had done so, hence his rapidly waning patience. “Yes, Roman. I’ve been researching this exact matter for weeks, and I’m very confident that my alterations to the iron golem’s runic carvings will prevent it from targeting Anxiety. I had to perform a similar adjustment for my own person when first creating the golem, as well.”

“Alright, alright,” Roman relented, though when Logan turned away, he could see the adventurer shoot the iron golem a wary look. “I’m just a mite concerned for Tall, Dark, and Spooky, that’s all. I mean, have you seen how bony that guy is? A single punch would practically bowl him over!”

“I think you’re underestimating him,” Logan replied, absently hoping that Roman didn’t notice the way he was triple-checking the images in his reference book and the runes painstakingly carved into the iron golem’s armor. “Endermen are far more durable and far more dangerous than they look.”

A brief stretch of silence, and then he paused his work again to lift his head and elaborate: “Not that Anxiety is a danger to us.”

“Pat’s got us well-trained, huh,” Roman mused, as though he hadn’t just been fretting over the enderman in question. “I swear, one day he’ll bring the Ender Dragon home, and we’ll all just have to adapt to it just to make the guy happy.”

“Please do not speak that into existence,” Logan replied dryly, brushing away some stray metal shavings as he stepped back from the village’s golem to look over his work. “I have no doubt he would be the only one even capable of such a thing.”

Roman hummed in agreement, coming to stand by his side. They surveyed the updated runes together for a long moment.

“And this won’t prevent it from realizing that other endermen are still potential threats?” Roman asked, an eyebrow raised at the complex interwoven symbols. “That’s a pretty specific condition to set for a construct, Specs.”

“It is,” Logan allowed. “Luckily, I am an exceedingly skilled witch.”

The brag earned him a snort and an eyeroll, both gestures a far cry from the wariness that had marked the beginning of their strange enemies-turned-friends dynamic.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop pestering you,” Roman said, lifting his hands up in a gesture of faux-innocence. “But if Anxiety gets punched into next week by one of those metal tree trunks your golem calls arms, I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

Logan sighed, the noise coming out far fonder than he wanted it to. “Very well. Though, I will remind you how many times you’ve gotten to exercise that particular right over the course of our friendship.”

He wasn’t in the habit of being wrong, especially because letting Roman say ‘I told you so’ to him would be galling beyond belief.

Roman grumbled wordlessly for a moment, before turning on his heel to lead the way back towards the small clearing near Patton’s house. “Regardless, I maintain the right! One of these days, your hubris will be your undoing, and on that day, my powerful intuition and sense for danger will triumph!”

The adventurer accentuated this particular claim by immediately getting his boot caught in a stray pumpkin vine, tripping, and nearly eating dirt.

“Doubtful,” Logan replied with poorly-concealed smugness, preoccupied with carefully replacing the golem’s lodestone and observing it shuffle back into awareness. He paid no mind to the indignant muttered complaints growing fainter behind him.

Once he was satisfied that nothing was amiss and all the inscribed runes were still properly lit up, he turned to follow Roman, beckoning to the golem to follow.

Now came for the nerve-wracking part: ensuring that the runic alterations would take proper effect, something that could only be done by introducing the two.

It was a relatively short walk to the clearing, and once they were close, Roman picked up his pace to sprint ahead and let Patton and Anxiety know that the first test of Logan’s handiwork was about to begin. Since the golem was relatively slow unless agitated, Logan remained behind, walking slowly at its side to keep it on course.

By the time they reached the clearing, everyone was prepared. In Anxiety’s case, perhaps even over-prepared, going by the characteristic ozone scent that cropped up whenever the enderman teleported too many times in a small space. Roman’s apprehension must have unsettled him as well— they did call him Anxiety for a reason, after all.

Concealing a sigh, Logan stepped forward into the clearing and to the side to make way for the construct trailing behind him, clearing his throat as though everyone’s gazes weren’t already locked on his approach. “Anxiety, our iron golem is right behind me. If it locks onto you and begins to move quickly, teleporting a chunk away should be far enough for it to calm down. It won’t harm any of us, as I’ve said before.”

There was an otherworldly hum of acknowledgement, and he noted that Anxiety had settled in front of Patton, rather than behind. By now, everyone had become well-adjusted to making sure to avoid eye contact with their easily-agitated friend, but usually, Anxiety still showed a clear preference for teleporting directly behind any one of them.

(Personally, Logan believed it was at least in part due to the way Roman would always shriek in startlement when Anxiety appeared behind him. Their unusual enderman was difficult to parse at times, but his penchant for mischief wasn’t particularly hard to pick up on.)

This test must have had him truly on edge. Logan turned to watch the golem lumber into the clearing, keeping his own posture forcibly relaxed as he mentally prepared to do damage control if this little experiment failed.

The iron golem drew to a stop a few steps in, its field of vision sweeping over all of them, and the moment stretched. It then made a grinding stone-on-stone rumble inquisitively, as though curious as to why all of them were so tense.

The sigh of relief was audible, even in Anxiety’s warped voice. Logan adjusted his glasses and only barely refrained from flaunting his success over Roman in the name of keeping the current peace. “Anxiety, you should be safe to approach, and I encourage you to do so. If you’re able to interact at close range with the iron golem, that should confirm that each and every one of the adjustments have set in properly.”

Anxiety warbled, teleporting back and forth a few blocks as he often did while nervous, and Patton reached out to give him a supportive pat on the arm.

“This is the one who was looking out for me before I met you,” he told Anxiety, offering an encouraging smile. “I think you two will get along well!”

Anxiety was quiet for a moment, and then walked forward on spindly legs, approaching the guardian with all due tentativeness. The iron golem tilted its head upwards to look at the enderman, making another rumble as it swung its arms back and forth absently, entirely unconcerned with what would normally be a serious enemy to it.

Anxiety ‘vrrp’-d back at the golem, circling around it in an unsteady circle, like a bee around a flower. The golem turned in a slow rotation to follow the enderman’s movement, still languid and unhurried. It painted a rather cute picture, if Logan was honest.

Patton clapped his hands together in glee, happy that they’d managed a successful interaction. Somehow, Logan was reminded of the first time he’d introduced his familiar to Patton’s pet cat. The felines’ resulting tolerance of each other had earned a similar reaction.

“There we have it,” he concluded, satisfied with a job well done. “Anxiety is no longer at any risk from the town’s guardian.”

Roman sidled up next to him, apparently content to ignore Logan’s somewhat self-satisfactory tone. “You know, if you’d told me this was what I’d be helping with a month ago, I wouldn’t have believed you for love or diamonds.”

“Yes, well, I could have said much the same at many points over my acquaintanceship with Patton,” Logan replied, watching as the iron golem slowly offered Anxiety a poppy, as though confused as to why the enderman was still persistently bobbing around it. Anxiety seemed immediately charmed by the gesture. “By now, I suspect I’m growing rather used to it.”

“At least I handled our newest friend better than our first meeting, hm?” Roman said wryly, and Logan exchanged an amused look with him. “Maybe I’m getting used to it, too.”

A few yards away, Patton was still practically jumping for joy. He turned to the two of them, beaming. “Now we can introduce Anxiety to the rest of the village!”

The look they exchanged this time was far more alarmed. “Patton, I’m not so sure that’s the best idea…”

Across the clearing, the iron golem tilted its head curiously as the enderman next to it abruptly teleported a fair few blocks away to hide behind a tree.

Huh. Seemed the latest and strangest addition to the village was shy.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Never Did I Truely Hate You

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Janus doesn't expect any of the others to want him around after he's accepted. Even Remus has been acting off. So, of course, the most sensible course of action would be to avoid the source of hurt entirely.

Virgil does not agree.

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| Ao3 |

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Warnings: Self isolation, pretty negative self image

Pairings: Anxceit, very background intrulogical.

Word Count: 2071

Notes: Did a poll on here for which fic I should post next and this one won in a tie with another fic that I will post on Wednesday :3

I feel like I don't write very much canonverse anymore so lmk what you think!!!

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Janus hadn’t expected everything to be perfect now that he - and begrudgingly Remus - had moved up to the light side’s commons. 

He did not expect Roman to forgive him, or become any less hostile towards him at all, after everything he had done to him. He didn’t expect Patton to want much to do with him, and he expected Logan to prefer talking to anyone but him - even Remus, who he’d spent a surprisingly long amount of time with recently, but whatever, that was none of his business.

And even more than that, He didn’t expect a single ounce of kindness from Virgil. 

Not after he’d left, not after the quips and insults and snipes whenever they’d been within hissing distance of one another. No, he didn’t even expect Virgil to want to be in the same room as him, let alone talk to him, or heaven forbid sit down at the same table as him.

So, Janus decided to intrude on their space as little as possible. It was better to avoid the emotional turmoil and annoying pain it would cause than go through it all… right? …Right??

And so that was how Janus found himself becoming almost nocturnal for the first few weeks of this new arrangement. He also just so happened to spend an ungodly amount of time in the private greenhouse Remus had made for him as an extension of his room (fit, of course, with deadly tropical plants and poisons). He sat there for hours reading, or spent time caring for the snakes that also shared the space and he didn’t come out when someone knocked.

Which was rare because, of course, no-one wanted to talk to him. 

He spent time in the commons at night, making food, eating said food, sometimes even watching a film during the dead hours of the morning. It was fine, he was fine with this arrangement, and he was sure everyone else was enjoying business as usual - you know, without him there.

So far, Janus had managed to avoid running into any side at night - aside from one time, when he came across Roman, though he was already passed out at the kitchen island, so it hardly counted. Something he should have remembered - and would kick himself for forgetting after the events that were about to unfurl because of it - was how awful Virgil’s own sleep schedule was. 

He realised this fact very abruptly when, one night at just past three in the morning, Janus went to open the fridge, only to be attacked from above and tackled to the ground by some kind of hissing creature. 

Moments later, when he gathered his thoughts just enough to will the lights in the living space to turn on, he realised that said hissing creature was actually their resident spider himself, who was now sitting firmly on Janus’ chest as he pinned him to the ground with strong hands on his shoulders. What the fuck?

“Virgil?” Janus asked after a long stretch of silence in which they both stared at each other. 

“I finally got you,” Virgil huffed, seeming a little out of breath from the violent attack, “I’ve been - trying for the last week but you’re too fucking - slippery.”

“What??” Janus asked, staring at Virgil in disbelief, “why?”

“Because you’ve been avoiding all of us since you came up here, idiot,” Virgil said, pushing a little more weight onto Janus’ shoulders, it was starting to hurt, just a little, but he wasn’t about to tell Virgil to get off - this was the closest he’d gotten to him since… before, and Janus wouldn’t lie - at least not in his own thoughts - about how big of a crush he’d always had on Virgil. So yes, he was confused as hell, but he was absolutely not going to push Virgil away when he willingly touched him for the first time in years. What could he say, he was selfish.

“And?” Janus said, trying to make sure his face didn’t betray his raging feelings the position they were in were causing, “So what? I totally expect you and the others would actually want me around.”

“...So what? Dude I’ve been worried sick! Patton asks if we’ve seen you literally every day at breakfast- what? Even Remus doesn’t know where you’ve been!” Virgil yelled, “And then- I was down here on the sofa one night and - well I guess you didn’t fucking see me or whatever but you came down and then disappeared again - so I’ve been trying to catch you every night since to work out what the fuck is going on.”

“There’s nothing ‘going on’,” Janus protested, he was pretty sure he’d lost his hat when Virgil had knocked him over, he didn’t feel too comfortable without it, “I’m just giving you all space to recover after the last episode.”

“No you’re not,” Virgil said, shaking his head with a frown, “I know you too well for that, and we don’t need space, what’s going on, Janus.”

“I-” Janus trailed off, realising that Virgil had really trapped him in a corner here - both literally and metaphorically, Virgil knew him too well, even now, he could spot his lies easily, “It’s nothing of your concern.”

“I didn’t tell the others,” Virgil said, Janus blinked, staring at Virgil’s face in confusion.

“...Didn’t tell the others… what?”

“That you were coming down here at night, that I was trying to uh - do whatever you call this,” Virgil huffed, lifting one hand from his shoulder to gesture to the position the two of them were in, “I didn’t tell them.”

“Why not?” Janus asked, frowning.

Virgil groaned and rolled his eyes, “Because I know you too fucking well, now tell me why you’ve suddenly turned into an owl instead of a snake.”

“I’m saving you all the trouble of pushing me away,” Janus snapped after a long enough pause that Janus knew Virgil wouldn’t relent, “I already know that you all totally want me here, even if Patton’s stupid gesture to accept me meant anything.”

Virgil was silent for a second, didn’t break eye contact as he hesitated, before moving his hands from Janus’ shoulders. For a moment Janus expected him to stand up, dust himself off and mention something about how he was right before walking off. Instead, Virgil sighed and flopped down so he was lying fully on Janus’ chest, head tucked under his chin. 

Almost completely on autopilot - since his brain was entirely bluescreening at the action - Janus’ arms came up to wrap around Virgil, who let out a surprised hum at the action.

“...Virgil?” Janus asked, voice wary. Everything he could have possibly expected from this interaction had just been flung out of the window with a single action.

“When Patton accepted you,” Virgil said, voice a little muffled to Janus’ ears, “I- I was angry at first, but then I just thought that like- now that they liked you I could - I could go back to liking you too, I was excited, I think, to have you back - but then you just disappeared and I - started overthinking it as usual.”

Janus couldn’t help but chuckle even if it came out a little sad, “I thought you out of everyone would want to see me the most, you definitely made that very clear in all of our recent interactions.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, readily and without hesitation, “I was awful to you, and it was - it’s no excuse but I only did it because everyone else chose to hate you too I - I was scared I’d lose their respect over it, but - it doesn’t matter now? Because Patton accepted you so - so they’re not going to hate me for liking you, right?”

Virgil lifted his head to look at him, and Janus sighed. 

“You already know that I don’t know the answer to that,” Janus said, “and I’m sure the others will totally just like me without question now that Patton has accepted me.”

Virgil chuckled, “Roman is still mad about the moustache comment.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Janus said, shaking his head, “And I certainly don't expect that Logan isn’t still angry with me about the courtroom.”

“Okay so maybe we- we don’t tell the others about uh - this,” Virgil said, resting his head back on Janus’ chest. 

“I totally know what’s happening right now,” Janus said with a sigh.

“I’m lying on you.” Virgil said, matter of factly, “B’cause you’re cold and strong and nice to lie on.”

“Okay, well this floor is definitely soft and warm and comfortable,” Janus pointed out, “So if you want to continue to lie on me may I suggest we move somewhere that wont give me back problems?”

“Oh right, yeah of course, sorry if I hurt you, when I uh - tackled you, by the way,” Virgil said, almost immediately getting up, looking a little sheepish. 

“It’s fine. Would you like to watch The Black Cauldron?” Janus asked as he sat up, changing the topic, “I think there’s a DVD of it around here somewhere, we could lie on the couch…?”

“You… remember that I like that film?” Virgil asked, sounding oddly quiet, Janus turned from where he had begun walking over to the couch, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

“Of course I don’t,” Janus said, “It’s not like you made us watch it every other week - interchanged with The Nightmare Before Christmas - without fail since Thomas first watched it or anything.”

He couldn’t help but delight in the way that Virgil’s face flushed red, despite him hurrying to join Janus by the couch. 

“I had almost forgotten about that,” Virgil admitted, “I’ve barely watched it since being over here.”

“I haven’t watched it since you left,” Janus sighed, “I highly doubt I remember the plot.”

Virgil smiled tentatively, “I’ll probably fall asleep before it finishes… but… that just means we’ll have to watch it again at some point, right?”

“Of course, let's take this opportunity to watch it now, shall we?” Janus said, summoning the DVD case in one hand whilst offering the other to Virgil. There was a long second of hesitation during which Janus could almost feel his world crumbling around him as Virgil didn’t take his hand, for a second he thought this must have been a trick, to have a relationship he wished for so badly dangled in his face and then snatched away again at the last second.

But no, that couldn’t be right, Virgil might be sarcastic, mean at times, but he wasn’t cruel and he certainly wasn’t dishonest enough to pull such a stunt so sincerely. Which meant…

“Are you alright?” Janus asked gently, taking back his hand. 

“Oh yeah, Yeah i’m okay,” Virgil lied, Janus raised an eyebrow, “Okay fine, no I- when I left I just- sorta maybe convinced myself that you guys hated me and I just- I didn’t expect you to be so… I definitely didn’t expect you to remember my favourite film, or- or want to cuddle while we watched it.”

“It’s not like I expected you to be any kinder towards me,” Janus replied, face going soft, “But… maybe it’s safe to say neither of us actually hate each other?”

Virgil snorted, “Yeah uh- maybe not, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Janus answered, “And I’m sorry too, honestly.”

There was a second where Virgil just took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Thank you, I forgive you too.”

“Good,” Janus smiled, putting the DVD into the player before sitting down on the couch, patting the seat next to him in invitation, “Because we’ve missed a lot of weekends - so we’d better make up for all the lost viewing time, hm?”

“I think we’d get bored if we watched it that much,” Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, flopping down on the couch next to him and immediately leaning into his side, and God had Janus missed this. 

“Perhaps,” Janus nodded. 

“Maybe if you actually came to the movie nights we tried to invite you to we’d have more things to watch,” Virgil murmured as Janus pressed play. 

“You tried to invite me to movie nights?” Janus asked, tilting his head. 

“Yeah - we all took turns knocking on your door every time we did one, you never answered.”

“...oh.”

“Now shut up, the film’s starting.”

Neither of them made it halfway through the film before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 @goldnskyart (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[fandombead]

For Those Who Have Mourned Me

Hello!! This is my submission for Anaroceit Shipweek's prompt: Apology.

Summary: Virgil returns home after a quest to retrieve an invaluable gift for his partners takes far longer than he'd anticipated. How will they receive him? How could they forgive him after disappearing for 2 years? (note: Fantasy AU! Heads up for angst, this is hurt/comfort)

WC: ~3k || It’s on AO3! @anaroceitweek ! *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Apology

Virgil had no idea how he was going to explain himself. There wasn’t much he could say that would make this day easier. But he’d been psyching himself up for weeks and he was here now. But would they want him back?

Virgil stopped walking as the quiet forest opened into a grassy clearing. 

He felt faint as he stared up at the little cottage backed to the stream on the other side. He clutched his walking stick hard to stay standing, exhaustion and longing and heartache battling it out in his chest. Guilt rose from his stomach and made him feel sick. His magic sparked at his fingertips from the increasing anxiety and he could only grip his satchel to his chest, protecting thd thing he’d fought so hard to retrieve. That would make a world of difference and change all of their lives for the better. He had to believe it would, or else this was all for nothing. 

They…they’d accept him back, wouldn’t they? Once they knew why he’d been gone so long. He could explain it to them, and he’d do anything for them to apologize, to be pulled into their embrace, and he’d never leave it again if the asked it of him. If they wanted to hold him again. 

Tears pricked at his eyes but he wasn’t allowed to cry over this. He had no right to. It didn’t matter how much he’d missed them or how many times in the months it took to get back to them that he wanted to give up the quest. He should have told them. He didn’t know he’d be gone this long, but he should have. 

The sun was nearly gone behind him, casting long shadows of the trees on the house. 

A light was on in their sitting room by the garden. Attention drawn to prolong the inevitable, it looked like they’d planted the new crops already in his absence. He wondered if Roman had helped Jan in his place this year. And last year. 

He wanted to go in and hold them. He just wanted them to understand: prayed to whoever would listen that they’d understand why. Did he have the right to call this his home anymore after such an absence? Virgil doubted he’d be welcome, but perhaps that was just his own doubt clouding his mind. 

Perhaps.

Virgil forced himself forward, hobbling carefully down the path. He looked as frazzled as he felt, and maybe he should have stopped in town to be presentable first. He’d bathed in the river regularly, but the clothes were old now, damaged from travel. Maybe they could forgive him for it, too, if they could with everything else. He hadn’t wanted to delay another moment once back in the safe lands of the kingdom.

The path hadn’t changed much, even if a little overgrown with grass and wildflowers that hadn’t been cleared in a long while. The porch still creaked on its second step. Roman had said he would fix it soon. The bench swing on their porch was not as white as it used to be, sun-damaged and with a few chips in the paint, but it still had a clean outdoor blanket folded over the back of it and was free of dirt or pollen like it was regularly kept up. They still used it, then.

He tried to imagine the two of them there, sitting and watching the sunset like they used to together on many nights. He wonders if they sat there together watching the path for him to return. He wonders how long they waited, assuming he would come back for months. Hoping he would come back. Guilt tightened in his chest as he stood there far too long, staring and lost in thought. 

He did not realize he wasn’t the only one outside.

 Roman’s sharp gasp followed by the loud clatter of his watering can on the stepping stones leading to the back of the house was the only warning Virgil had. Virgil jumped, nearly tripping over his walking stick in his haste to whip around and just as startled as Roman stared. He had changed so much quite visibly. Ro looked more hallowed, his eyes not as bright as they used to be with small creases underneath. He had longer hair than Virgil had ever seen him with, messily put up in a bun.  

Roman was right there, and Virgil’s heart ached to reach out, to say something and make that shaken expression change. 

“Virgil!” he cried out, and it was almost more of a wail.

He wasn’t able to say a word before Roman was rushing him. “R-Roman– I-I’m so sorry, I really– oof!” 

Virgil’s back bumped the door in a moment of distress, because so much that had run at him in these past years had been hostile and trying to kill him. Roman closed the distance faster than Virgil could sidestep and he flinched, almost expecting anger to greet him, but arms encased him, not trapping or to hurt, but holding him close, as if he were something precious. Roman held him fiercely, and it took Virgil several long seconds to realize he wasn’t the one shaking. Or maybe Roman just was more than him. Virgil let out a small wounded noise as all the words he’d had ready were stuck in his throat, and it was all he could do to hang onto Roman’s arm around him.

The front door swung open and Virgil could not see behind him as he was currently being clutched against Roman’s chest, the tall diefic being refusing to relinquish him as he somehow cradled Virgil to him while they were both standing. Roman was sobbing over his head.

Virgil collapsed forward unwittingly, too startled to stay upright. Roman held fast, sinking carefully down with him and not letting Virgil slip from his strong arms. Virgil was stiff, trembling as he didn’t know what to do with his arms.  Roman tried to speak through his sobs, as Janus both tried to console him and fuss over Virgil, reeling as well, but knowing he was needed by them both. That didn’t stop Virgil from seeing tears on his face as well, Janus pulling Virgil against his chest when Roman let up for a moment to fuss over his state.

Virgil clung onto him like a lifeline, shameful in how weak he was to allow it. They should be furious with him, but they were too kind to turn him away. They wouldn’t, even though he’d properly abandoned them. He’d told himself he wouldn’t cry– wouldn’t force their sympathy from past feelings for him. 

“We’ve got you, love, it’s alright.” Janus said soothingly, and tried to pretend his voice didn’t hitch on the words. He cradled Virgil’s face in his cool palms, pressing their foreheads together as he just seemed to reveal in the sudden relief and change in their reality.

So many dreams of this very moment, a hope they’d shared in all its clear futility for two years now. Janus held on tight to make sure he was real, and refused to open his eyes for fear of waking up again.

“We thought you were gone,” Roman breathed out, pressing his damp face into Virgil’s wayward curls. “The–the pendants– stars, they told us you weren’t even alive– they didn’t glow when we reached out with thoughts of you, nowhere in the world…we t-thought you were–”

“I am so sorry,” Virgil whispered, clinging to Roman’s sleeve and pressing his face into the fabric desperately. He still smelled like canvas and that fruity spritz that Virgil always loved on him. He grimaced, trying to reign his emotions in, he couldn’t get overwhelmed right now. He had to tell them; needed to explain himself before they realized they should be far more upset. Though they had every right to be. “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, louder this time. “I-I– I never intended to be gone this long– but I couldn’t give up and time passed so much faster than I–”

Virgil cut himself off, trying to calm down. He wasn’t trying to make excuses. Janus hated when people couldn’t even be accountable, but what could he even say? 

Virgil clutched the bag to his chest and tried to pull back, however reluctant, to get his arm out. He managed to wiggle it free when Roman realized he was trying to get to it and let up a bit on his hold, not letting him go for even a moment.

“I– I got you this.�� 

Janus and Roman’s eyes widened at the curling amber circlet he pulled from his bag, Roman covering his mouth when he saw it held gently in Virgil’s hands in offering. The headpiece had unshaped Ecludite at its front, trapped by a translucent tesseract crystal. The chunk of metallic crimson was no bigger than a coin and nonetheless radiated the immense power it contained just from being exposed. It was invaluable and a thing of legend and entirely non-existent in this mortal realm. Which meant…

“Virgil– this is from Erok!” Janus exclaimed, nearly standing again in his horror. 

Roman gaped, immediately turning to Virgil, who shrunk in on himself. “You went to Erok on your own?! Do you have any idea how dangerous and reckless that was? For two years!” 

Janus was shaking his head, trying to steady himself. “We could have easily lost you even from meeting in the afterlife, do you have any idea what would have happened to your soul had you died there? What’s likely already happened to your Quintessence–”  

“I-I know this doesn’t excuse me leaving!” Virgil said quickly, head bowed. “I know it was so stupid and I should have told you and that it was horrible to not even let you know where I was going the day I left– gods, I left a letter telling you I’d be back in a week…! I–I know this doesn’t make it up to you. For what I did before I left–” “Virgil!” Roman tearfully cut in, horrified and not able to take just listening a moment longer. “Did you do this on your own because of that guilt? Did you truly think we would not care or would want you to ever go to that– realm of chthonian horrors?!”

Virgil wouldn’t look at either of them. “If I thought for a moment at the start of all this that it would take me so long to get back, I swear I would not have gone like that, I never wanted to worry either of you, I wanted to do this for you! You both are so amazing and took care of me at my lowest–  A-And I had to do something–I could do something, I could b-bring you Mindscape’s Gate–”

“You should have taken us with you!” Roman cried, nearly knocking one of the most powerful dimension-crossing pieces out of Virgil’s hands, much to their little mage’s fear. Janus was faster, quickly taking it and the bag Virgil had settled it on away, holding it in his lap. Janus ran a hand through Virgik’s hair, settling it there as he gazed at him hard. “Virgil, you matter so much more to us than a portal back home. We would have found a way together, but to risk your magic being striped, your life– everything you are for this, all alone…”

They fell silent, save for Roman’s quiet soothing murmurs in their home tongue.

Virgil shook his head slowly, unable to hold the gaze. “I–I was selfish. I didn’t want to risk you, but thought…stupidly, that I could travel and make it after some lousy soothsayer told me how to get there. They never mentioned how hard getting back was and I was too desperate to ask. But you were just so terrified and devastated when the Di-Keep stole your connection to Home.”

“V-Vee, stormcloud, please, you’re–”

“Y-You both can go home again! You can see the others, so it was worth it, the risk, everything, it had to be worth it!”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment that time, and Virgil tried to pull away, but neither let him, Roman making a soft noise of protest. 

Janus shook his head as he tilted Virgil’s face gently to meet his soft eyes. “You did…all that for us. It was amazing of you, and…and so brave, even if…short-sided.” he said carefully, sighing as his face fell. “But you must understand, you mean so much more to us. No matter what happened, we do not want you to ever put your life up for us. It is so much more valuable to me than anything we’ve ever come to find in this realm. You are our greatest treasure.”

Virgil felt himself trembling at the implications.

Roman pressed his nose against Virgil’s shoulder, holding him close as Janus pulled them both to him, the circlet miraculously having been shifted safely to the bench swing as if it were just a souvenir he had gotten them.  

“We love you so much, our brave and selfless knight. We missed you deeply. We are so thankful the realm allowed you to return to us. If I’d known that’s where you were this whole time, we would have come for you, no questions asked. You must have been so scared…”

Virgil shuddered as his composure left him entirely, held so close between them and not wanting to let either go. He fisted Roman’s soft cotton shirt in tightly as Janus pressed a kiss to his forehead. “We have you now, my love. And we aren’t letting you go again.”

“I-I-sorry.” 

“We know. All will be alright.” Janus soothed, and Virgil held onto the words meant to comfort him. They did not know if he would be alright again. “I’m sorry– y-you mourned me.”

“You are here now, you are home.” Roman cooed, voice lulling. “You returned to us. Don’t you worry right now about how we will handle it. We are relieved.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil sobbed, and he didn’t even know what specifically for. For everything that he knew they must have went through. They had to be relieving the pain he’d put them through, showing up out of nowhere like this–

Janus shushed him softly, brushing long damp hair from Virgil’s face as it stuck together on his pale cheeks. Being without sun for two years would have such awful effects on mortals. Janus made a note to have Virgil sit outside with him as he recovered.

“All will be alright, windstorm.“

It had all but set now, the shadows all-encompassing in their little clearing as the stream bubbled in the quiet. Crickets and fireflies started their nightly concert and dance in the tall grass, having a light show that didn’t compare to the constellations starting to come out above them. They sat there, letting Virgil cry out all his feelings of loneliness and longing and fears he would never come home, that they’d never even know what happened to him. He didn’t stop his garbled apologies until he was physically too exhausted to keep it up. Roman and Janus patiently reassured and comforted him the entire time until he finally fell silent, slumped against Roman’s chest as Janus held his free hand, stroking the scarred skin in his cool, smooth ones.

“I-I’m going to lift you up, okay?” Roman warned right before Janus pulled back. It wasn’t even a second later that Roman took his place once more, easily lifting Virgil and standing with him, followed by more quiet fretting over how light Virgil was. Virgil could only curl into Roman, unwilling to pull away drained as he was. If they abandoned him now, he would simply lie there, unmoving until the Wyervins and scavengers found him. He had nothing left. He weakly clutched at Roman’s chest, chasing the dark thoughts away. Such thoughts had long haunted him in dreams of his return. They got to him, warping his memory of them and their love. Janus and Roman were not like that. Ro was bold in his outspoken declarations of adoration and love for them both. Jay was more subtle but no less sentimental and just as intense, showering them in sweet words and close contacts.

“I have you, little hero. You’re with us again.” Roman reassured as Janus got the door for them, sweeping the precious token up with his telekinesis once more to bring it and Virgil’s staff safely inside. He made sure it was slid back into its bag and that it was set in the study, safe in the heart of their home. Many would kill or worse to get their hands on something so impossibly priceless, but they already had something worth more in their arms. They could discuss it in a few days or weeks, after they all had recovered enough and had a proper talk about all of this. 

Jan was not so sure a complete recovery was feasible, no matter how many decades and centuries passed, but they could be okay again. They would get to a place they could function in normalcy, even if it was never gone. Maybe it should never be gone, as life-changing as it was. Neither he nor Roman were done explaining to their beloved just how much he meant to them, and they would get it through the cloud of doubt in his mind. They would dote and tell him constantly of that truth, and reassure his anxieties as much as he needed them to without question. He had been through something no one should have to face and survived it. He was going to need time and help recover from that. They’d be here to listen and help him get any residual soulmarks healed. They’d guide him through the trauma and how to cope with what he’d never be rid of. They’d do anything for Vee, for Virgil, as long as it meant they’d still be there to love and protect him. He was as much their home as Mindscape, and they’d never let him be isolated from them ever again.

“We will take care of you, darling. You can rest now.”

[ironwoman359]

Our Own Villain Ch. 9

Prologue, Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9, Ch.10

Word Count: 5,570

Chapter Summary: Everything Roman has worked for threatens to crumble around him as Logan puts his plan to save his friends into motion.

Pairings: Logicality, could be read as romantic or platonic, platonic Moxiety

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, guilt, isolation and anger, overworking, fantasy violence, just generally unhealthy thought patterns going on for Roman.

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

AN: IT'S HERE! As always, I cannot post this story without acknowledging the incredible @theinvisiblespoon, who helped me edit this and resulted in over 400 extra words of flavor for this chapter. They're the absolute best! Also, shout out to @teacupfulofstarshine for helping me get over some writers block with a few of these passages, she's an absolute darling <3

— — —

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

The captain of the guard bowed low before Roman, a faint tremor in his posture betraying his nerves.

“I’ve had my men up all night, searching the city from top to bottom,” the captain continued, “but there’s been no sign of the fugitive.” 

The man kept his head low, glancing tentatively up at Roman who paced back and forth across the floor of the throne room, arms crossed across his chest. He barely noticed the captain’s discomfort, lost entirely in thought. 

Where could Logan be? There was no way he could have left the Imagination, so how had the guards not found him yet? Roman supposed he could have snuck out of the city somehow, but there was nothing for him out there but wilderness, and it was cruel, even for Logan, to run away without even trying to rescue Patton and Virgil. No, he had to be hidden somewhere, somewhere that he thought was clever enough to escape Roman’s notice. 

“Keep searching, Captain,” he ordered. “He must be somewhere in the city. Perhaps he has enlisted the help of one of the townspeople and is being kept out of sight. Issue a decree that anyone found to be harboring criminals will face charges of treason. I want every-”

“Your Highness!” a new guard burst into the room, and Roman spun around with a glare. 

“What is it now? Are you men so utterly incompetent that you’re incapable of following the most simple of commands? I said that I was not to be disturbed!”

“It’s just, your highness,” the guard stammered, cowering in the face of Roman’s rage. “There’s an attack at the gates–” 

“What on earth makes you think I care about the gates right now?” Roman exclaimed. “There is a traitor loose in the city, corrupting the people and conspiring against me. Nothing at the gates could possibly be more important than finding–”

A roar pierced the air, and Roman went rigid, his hand automatically gripping the hilt of his sword. 

“Dragon Witch,” he hissed, and the guard nodded frantically. 

“She was spotted flying down from the mountains, your highness. The gate guard sent me to warn of her attack.” 

Roman slammed his fist down on the table. 

“Of course she would strike now, when we are distracted and unprepared. Captain, send criers through the streets to order your men to mobilize at the main gate. And bring me my armor! We must not let her take the city!” 

The soldiers scrambled from the room, and for a moment, Roman stood alone. After everything he’d done, everything he’d worked for, he now was faced with this. His oldest and strongest enemy, coming to challenge him when he was at his weakest. Did she think he would simply cave before her might? He was Roman, Prince of the Imagination, Thomas’s Hero, the last bastion of goodness left for the entire mindscape. He wouldn’t be overthrown by a mere construct. He laughed to himself. No one was around to hear it.

The next several minutes were a flurry of activity, and soon Roman was on his horse, his silver breastplate glinting in the first red rays of sunrise poking over the horizon as he cantered through the city streets.  

The thought of Logan somehow escaping the city during the battle briefly crossed his mind, but he pushed the idea away. They would find the logical side eventually; after all, there was nowhere for him to run. 

Outside the city wall, the Dragon Witch let out another roar, and Roman urged his horse forward, drawing his sword. 

Right now, Logan didn’t matter. 

What did matter was making sure that his realm did not fall. He was Roman, Creativity, creator of this realm and Prince of the mindscape. He was a hero, the only hero Thomas had left after all the others had fallen prey to the wicked machinations of those accursed Dark Sides. 

And nothing, not the others, not the Dragon Witch, nothing, was going to stand in his way.

— — — 

Screams rang out through the streets as another of the Dragon Witch’s roars shook the city. Seth pressed himself up against the wall of the alleyway, peering out from behind a corner. The palace drawbridge lowered and Prince Roman and his guards in full armor appeared. The thunder of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestone and with the blare of the soldiers’ warhorns echoed all around Seth, and he ducked out of the way as the battalion rode past his hiding spot. 

The market was quickly emptying as merchants and shoppers fled the streets, and he intended to take full advantage of the chaos. Now that he had secured a place by the square, he hoped to pilfer enough foodstuffs from the merchants to be set for at least a week. Seth waited until the last terrified shopkeeper had disappeared from sight, then he crept out from the alleyway into the square. 

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly pulled him back into the shadows. He spun with a cry, his fists up in an instant ready to strike, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who had attacked him. 

“Maddie?”

“We had a deal, Seth,” the girl said, glaring at him. 

“But I saw you…the Arachnids…”

“Show me the servant’s entrance, please,” Maddie interrupted, folding her arms. 

“What, now? We’re in the middle of a siege! Come on, let’s comb through the market and see if we can get any–” 

“Seth, if you don’t show me that servant’s entrance right now, I will ensure that you spend every waking moment for the rest of your life fighting tooth and nail for that market spot. I said it was yours once you showed me the entrance, and unless you take me right this second–” 

“Okay, okay!” Seth said, raising his hands in surrender. “Sheesh, Maddie, what’s gotten into you?” 

“It is vitally important that I gain access to the palace. The reason why doesn’t concern you,” Maddie said as Seth led her up the street towards the palace walls. 

Luckily, the entire city guard had ridden out to the gates with the Prince to fight the Dragon Witch, and the barred gate where Seth met his contact on the palace staff stood unprotected. 

“There’s a door on the other side of the garden that the servants use,” he said, pointing through the courtyard. “Though I don’t know why that would matter to you, it’s not like you could get in. There are easier places to steal food from, especially since the city is under attack right now?” 

Maddie didn’t bother answering, she just pushed past him and pulled experimentally on the gate. It was locked and didn’t budge, but she didn’t seem put off by that fact. 

“Thank you, Seth. Our deal is complete. The spot by the market is yours. Now, I suggest you take cover; as you so aptly pointed out, the city is under attack.” 

“What about you?” Seth asked.

“I have something I need to do,” Maddie answered, pulling a small glass vial from her dress pocket. She uncorked the bottle and poured a few drops of its contents on the gate’s lock, and Seth stared in awe as the metal melted away like ice on a summer’s day. 

“Now go,” Maddie ordered. “I’ll explain later…if we ever manage to resolve this whole ordeal.” 

Part of Seth wanted to stay and see what on earth the girl was up to, but just then the very sky seemed to explode, bright purple lightning and blue streaks of light flashing all around as the ground shook. Seth became overwhelmed with nausea, and he fell to his knees, retching. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maddie still standing, seemingly unaffected by whatever strange spell had caused the world to fall apart around them. He tried to call out to her, but she slipped through the gate and disappeared into the palace grounds before he could force his mouth to form words.

As soon as it began, the lightning stopped, and after a moment of gasping, Seth regained his bearings. He looked at the open palace gate, but then another roar rang out, and he turned and ran back through the city towards his new market spot. Maybe after he scavenged what food he could, he’d risk the gangs and take cover in the sewers until this was all over. Whatever had Maddie acting all weird, he didn’t want to know about it. He’d have a hard enough time surviving the Red Sun as it was. 

The Dragon Witch’s roar echoed through the streets and Seth stumbled as he skidded around a corner. 

When would this madness end?

— — — 

“Prince Roman!” the Dragon Witch called out, her voice reverberating through the city. “Show yourself and face me!” 

She hurled a spell at the city walls, and they buckled and folded beneath the weight of her magic. She stretched out her wings and roared, the very sound of her fury sending a squad of guards who were approaching to draw back in fear. A few of the gate guards tried to stand their ground, but she batted them away easily with a swing of her tail. 

Slowly, she stalked into the city, giving the peasants in the streets plenty of time to run screaming from her mighty presence. The slower and more dramatic she was in her approach, the more time it would give Prince Roman to muster his entire guard and ride out to face her. 

After a few minutes of her lazy destruction, the sound of battle horns rang out in the distance, and the Dragon Witch smiled. Looking up, she caught sight of Prince Roman’s black and red banner fluttering in the breeze, signaling that her quarry was coming within her grasp.

“Ready, little hero?” she asked quietly. She felt the grip of the human sitting on her back tighten. 

“As I’ll ever be,” came the answer, and the Dragon Witch chuckled. 

“Don’t worry,” she reassured. “Just stick to the script we practiced and you’ll be fine.” 

Prince Roman came into view then, and she had to give him credit where it was due. Even in this mindset, when the very fabric of her reality was changed because of his pain and anger and frustration, he was personally leading the charge against her. How many tyrant kings would send their armies out to die in a battle that they wouldn’t dare to risk themselves?

He wants so badly to be good, she thought as the prince stared up at her, his face twisted in a look of disgust. Not just good. Perfect. If only he could see the truth. 

“So it comes down to this!” Roman called up in a loud, clear voice. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you capable of this level of betrayal, Logan.”

He spat the name out like it was poison, and the Dragon Witch felt her passenger tense. 

You can do this, little hero, she thought. Save us all. 

“Prince Roman!” Logan’s voice was firm and unwavering, and the Dragon Witch couldn’t help the small swell of pride she felt at the sound. 

“Release your prisoners and surrender, or see your realm destroyed!” 

— — — 

Roman stared up in disbelief as the Dragon Witch sneered down at him. Of all the possible outcomes, of all the ways that he’d expected a confrontation with the last remaining free Light Side to go, he’d never expected this. 

Logan sat on the Dragon Witch’s back, staring down at Roman with a determined expression on his face. He looked almost comical, in his simple polo shirt, tie, and glasses while riding atop such a majestic and mighty beast, but Roman wasn’t in the mood to find humor in the situation. 

“Release my prisoners?” Roman repeated. “And why, exactly, would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, we will destroy the realm,” Logan repeated simply. 

“If you think that I and my forces won’t be able to defeat the Dragon Witch before she destroys the city, let alone the realm, then you’re sorely mistaken.” 

Logan frowned, tilting his head. 

“You would risk your entire world’s existence, rather than accept defeat?”

“I’ve not been defeated yet!” Roman shot back. “Besides, I made this world. If it is destroyed, then I will simply make it again. Your threat is meaningless!”

“And the lives of the people living in it?” Logan demanded. “Are they meaningless too?”

Roman opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, the world split apart. Purple lightning filled the sky, and he let out a cry of anguish as a wave of emotion slammed into the walls he’d placed up between his realm and Thomas. 

There was the same fear and anxiety from Virgil as there had been before, but there was also sadness, doubt, and guilt, manifesting in bright blue flashes throughout the storm. The guilt was somehow even more debilitating than the fear, and as he fought to keep the emotions from reaching Thomas, he could feel his grip on the realm itself slipping. 

No… he thought, desperately trying to hold on to his composure. No, no, no… 

— — — 

It has to be perfect. If it’s not perfect, then I’m just a fraud, I’ve basically been lying to my fans this entire time, and I can’t let that be true, I won’t let them down like that, it has to be perfect.

Thomas let out a gasp as his creative flow slammed to a halt, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread. 

“It will be good enough,” he said aloud to his empty room, but the swirling thoughts of dread and despair only grew stronger. 

But what if it isn’t? What if you’ll never make anything worth watching again and all the sacrifices you’ve made, all the friendships you’ve harmed along the way, all of that will have been for nothing? Your dreams will never come true and your friends will all abandon you. You’ve never really been that good a person anyway, why on earth would they stay? You’ll end up all alone for the rest of your life, and it will be your fault.

“What is going on?” 

Thomas started to reach out for his sides, but he wasn’t sure who exactly to summon. Who could be responsible for this type of thinking? He’d never felt like this before, as though his thoughts were being forcibly pulled out of his control, except…

Except for that time when Virgil had ducked out. He hadn’t been as aware of it, but his thoughts had felt just like this: foreign and strange and fully divorced from what he was directly experiencing.

Thomas frowned, and decided that the best thing to do would be to summon all the sides together. He started to reach out with his mind, but before he could contact anyone specific, somebody appeared in the corner of his vision. 

Unfortunately, it was the last side he wanted to see. 

“Janus?” he asked. “What are you doing? What’s going on?”

“I think you should take a break, Thomas,” Janus said quietly. “Put the laptop away and try to get some rest.”

“What? No,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “I need to keep working on this, it’s my best idea ever. It could completely change the course of my creative career, I just have to get these feelings under control and then I’ll–” 

“Thomas,” Janus interrupted sharply. “You’ve been working for fifteen hours straight.” 

Thomas glanced at the time on his laptop and was startled to see that Janus was right; it was nearly three in the morning, and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d stopped to take a break. 

“You need to stop,” Janus said, his voice firm. “Your magnum opus can wait until tomorrow.” 

“I guess…” Thomas said slowly. “But what’s going on with the others? I felt…strange, just now.” 

“Get some sleep,” Janus said. “If everything goes right, you’ll feel better in the morning.” 

Thomas frowned, giving Janus a skeptical look. 

“Is that my Deceitful side lying to me, or is it the truth?”

“At the end of the day, does that really matter?” Janus asked with a tight smile. “Either way, you need the rest.” 

“I suppose,” Thomas said, stifling a yawn even as he spoke. 

Janus watched as he closed his laptop and got up, a strange expression on his face. Thomas tried not to pay him much attention, quickly swapping his jeans out for some pajama pants before falling into bed. 

“Summon the others tomorrow,” Janus said as Thomas closed his eyes. “By then, they should have things straightened out.”

Thomas was already drifting off, and he felt more than heard Janus’s final words. 

“I hope.”

— — — 

Roman was losing his control. He looked up, and he could see the imagination around him beginning to crumble away. He noticed bits and pieces from his room, the bright white of his bedspread, the shine of the lights around his mirror, the blood red of his sash where he’d thrown it on the floor. The fantasy around him– his soldiers, his city, the Dragon Witch, even Logan himself– it was all flickering in and out of existence as the mental barrage continued. 

“NO!” 

Roman stopped trying to channel the emotions away and instead closed his eyes and pushed, forcing his mental walls back up, stronger and better than before. 

“You won’t take this from me!”  

He opened his eyes, only to see that the outburst of energy had reverted the Dragon Witch into her human form. She stood before him, leaning heavily against her magic staff, Logan now on his hands and knees at her side. Roman drew his sword, pointing it at the pair with a shaking hand. 

“You. Can’t. Take this from me!” 

Logan’s entire body was trembling, but he looked up and met Roman’s gaze, glaring at him even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“You’re insane,” he whispered. 

Roman let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

“If you just now figured that out, then you’re…” he trailed off, looking down at the shaking side. 

He had begun to fade away as Roman’s control over the imagination loosened, but he was fully solid again now. His breath was ragged and his skin was pale, as though he’d just attempted to run a marathon while running a fever.  

“You’re…not part of this realm,” Roman said slowly. “You’re part of Thomas. You shouldn’t have disappeared.” 

Logan still looked ill, but at Roman’s words he pushed himself to his feet. 

“What was that word he used?” Logan asked, looking over at the Dragon Witch, and a small, triumphant smile spread across his face as he looked back to Roman. “Checkmate.”

Roman’s eyes widened, then the Dragon Witch lashed out suddenly, her staff glowing as she swung it towards him in a wide arc. Roman threw his sword up and blocked her strike, and her spell went ricocheting off through the city.

For a moment, all his attention was on the fight, on blocking and parrying and counter attacking, but he’d sparred with the Dragon Witch dozens of times, in both of her forms. By the third strike from the witch, he’d settled into a familiar rhythm, and turned his attention back to Logan…or what he’d thought was Logan.

“Who are you?” he shrieked. “You can’t be him! He shouldn’t have disappeared! So you must be–” 

“Meaningless?” asked a voice he’d never heard before.

Roman pushed the Dragon Witch away and took a step back, staring in disbelief as Logan’s form began to flicker, just like the rest of the imagination had, just like all the other characters Roman had designed to fill his vast fantasy world had done when he was losing his control over the scene. But he was back in control now; this shifting had another cause. He’d barely had enough time to form the thought before the image of Logan was gone. 

In his place stood a barefoot girl in a tattered dress, her hair a wild mass of curls and her fists clenched at her sides. She looked somehow…familiar, and Roman tilted his head. 

“Do I know you?” 

The girl didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. He remembered now, for the longer he looked at her the more he recognized where she’d come from. When he’d first created the town surrounding the castle, he’d decided it needed citizens to make it feel more lived in. He’d made soldiers, peasants, shopkeepers, tradesmen and artisans, and then, to make the place more realistic, he’d made a handful of street urchins. 

He’d scarcely given the creations any thought after forming them and setting them loose in the city, and why would he? They weren’t meant to be important; the girl had no family, no backstory, no real role to play in his realm. So how on earth had she ended up here, fighting alongside the Dragon Witch and impersonating one of Thomas’s sides?

She looked up at him and he could see fear in her eyes, but there was a quiet strength too. The girl folded her arms and took a step towards him, and the Dragon Witch held out an arm, as if to shield her.

“Careful, little hero,”she murmured, and Roman looked back and forth between the two in disbelief. The girl ignored the witch and took another step, looking up at Roman with a determined expression.

“Like I said,” she repeated. “Checkmate.”

Roman turned and ran, knowing even as he did so that he’d never make it back to the palace in time. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he should have known something was wrong! Why else would the Dragon Witch attack now when she’d never attacked during the Red Sun before? Why else, except to draw him and all his guards away from the palace, leaving the castle vulnerable to an unseen enemy, a more crafty enemy… 

A shadow fell over him, and he glanced up as he ran to see the witch in her dragon form flying along above him, the little girl on her back once more. She quickly overtook him, and landed in the market square, spreading her wings out and blocking his path to the castle. 

“You’re too late, Prince Roman,” the Dragon Witch declared.

“I’ve defeated you before,” Roman cried, shifting into a fighting stance. “I can defeat you again!”

“You can defeat me all you like,” the Dragon Witch replied, her mocking voice echoing his own inner thoughts. “But you’ll never be able to outsmart him.” 

— — — 

Logan had no idea what was causing Roman’s realm to fall apart, but he was exceptionally grateful for it. 

The few remaining guards inside the castle were too overwhelmed by the effects of their very fabric of reality unraveling around them to notice a small girl running through the corridors searching for the dungeons. 

He found the correct door after only a few minutes of searching; Roman’s penchant for the dramatic meant the one door that very obviously looked as though it led to a dungeon did in fact lead to a dungeon, and he pulled the vial of acid the Dragon Witch had given him out of his pocket. Technically, the Dragon Witch had described the liquid inside as a magical potion that would dissolve any substance besides its own container, but the ‘potion’ was functionally identical to a freakishly effective vial of hydrochloric acid. 

Tomato, Solanum lycopersicum, Logan thought as he poured a few drops onto the door handle of the dungeon. After a moment of sizzling, the lock dissolved away and he pushed the door open. 

The room was dark, faint torchlight flickering ominously off the stone walls. Six cells lined the room, and the two at the end of the row were occupied. 

“Patton?” he called. “Virgil?” 

The prisoners looked up, and relief flooded through him when he saw their faces. 

“Maddie?” Patton cried, jumping to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Who is that?” Virgil whispered to Patton, but Logan ignored the question. 

“Not Maddie,” he said breathlessly. “It’s me.” 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out another vial, downing its contents in a single gulp. A strange tingling sensation enveloped his body, and he had to admit that in this case, he didn’t have a scientific explanation for the shapeshifting potion that the Dragon Witch had given him.

“Logan?” Virgil asked in disbelief. 

“Watch your hands,” Logan said, stepping forward to pour the remainder of the acid on the locks on their cell doors. 

“I knew you’d figure something out,” Patton said, his eyes shining with pride. “I just knew it.” 

In a moment, both cells were open, and Patton rushed out, pulling Logan and Virgil both into a bone crushing hug. For once, Logan didn’t think, didn’t analyze or worry, he just wrapped his arms around his friends and let himself slump into them. 

They were all safe, and they were all together. For one, shining moment, that was all that mattered.

“Are the two of you alright?” he asked when he eventually pulled back. “You’re not injured, are you?”

Patton shook his head. 

“We’re fine, Logan,” he said, and Virgil nodded in agreement. 

“My head will be a bit sore for a few days, but I’ll live. What about you? We heard the Dragon Witch attacking…” 

“I’m fine,” Logan reassured him. “In fact, the Dragon Witch attack is my own doing.”

“What?” Virgil exclaimed. 

“The potion…” Patton said, his eyes widening. “That’s where you got that potion that made you look like Maddie, isn’t it?” 

“Technically, the potion made me look like myself, as it was an antidote to the spell that she cast to make me look like Maddie–” 

“Hang on, where is Maddie?” Patton interrupted. 

“She’s with the Dragon Witch…pretending to be me.” Patton’s jaw dropped open, and Logan grimaced. “I know! I tried to tell her that it would be safer if she stayed behind in the cave, but she insisted. She said that the distraction would hold Roman’s attention for longer if I appeared to be aiding the Dragon Witch directly in her assault.”

“Back up,” Virgil said, holding up his hands. “You let the Dragon Witch cast a spell on you?” 

“She is Roman’s biggest villain,” Logan said simply. “Asking her to help us defeat him was the only logical choice left.”

“To be fair,” Patton admitted, “It’s not that much crazier than what we tried to do.” 

Logan frowned. 

“What you tried to do?” 

“We’ll tell you on the way out,” Virgil said. “Right now, we should move, before the guards come back.” 

Logan nodded, and the three turned and began making their way out of the dungeon. 

“Remember what happened on the bridge?” Patton asked as they climbed the stairs, and Logan nodded. “Well, I had a feeling that it wasn’t Roman who caused it…I thought it might have been Virgil. And it turns out I was right!” 

“You caused the Imagination to fall apart?” Logan asked, looking back at Virgil. “How?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’m not exactly sure. I had an overload of anxiety, but something was blocking me from channeling it away the way I normally do.” 

“Roman’s cutting off our access to Thomas,” Patton added. “I think that’s also why we can’t sink out. Reach out for him now; you can’t feel him, can you?” 

They’d reached the top of the stairs, and Logan paused. Normally, he was at least subconsciously aware of whatever external stimuli Thomas was experiencing, so that he could filter through the information and assist with decision making. He’d been so distracted by the quest to save Virgil and Patton that he hadn’t even noticed the lack of that awareness.

“I can’t,” he said aloud, and Patton nodded. 

“I can’t either. Whatever Roman’s done, it’s making him our only access point to Thomas. So we’ve been waiting for the right time to try overloading that access point.” 

“When we heard the Dragon Witch attacking, we thought it would be our best shot,” Virgil said. “And for a minute there I thought we would actually do it, but just before we could break through, the wall went back up again. Somehow, Roman was still stronger than the two of us put together.”

“Perhaps…” Logan mused. “But nonetheless, the two of you did have a strong effect on the Imagination. I wonder…would it be successful if all three of us tried to breach that barrier?” 

As they spoke, Logan led them outside and through the palace gardens to the servants’ gate in the side of the wall. The three stepped out onto the street, and Virgil looked around hesitantly. 

“So…now what?” he asked. 

Logan opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a familiar roar sounding from the market square. He grimaced, and looked back at his companions.

“Our original plan was to try and sneak out of the city. But simply escaping from Roman isn’t actually going to solve this problem.” 

Patton glanced at Virgil, and at a small tilt of the anxious side’s head, he locked eyes with Logan and nodded. 

“You’re right,” he said firmly. “This whole thing happened because we’ve been ignoring this problem. The only way we’re going to bring an end to this is if we confront it head on.”

“Guess we’ll get a chance to test out your hypothesis, Logan,” Virgil added as they hurried towards the square.  

“If it comes to that,” Logan agreed. “I do still hope that we’ll be able to use reason with Roman, though after all we’ve done to reach this point, I don’t know if that will be effective.” 

“Probably not,” Patton said quietly, and Logan glanced at him. 

Patton met his eyes for a moment, and Logan was surprised at the amount of melancholy he saw there. All through their ordeal, Patton had maintained a level of optimism that bordered on recklessness. As much as Logan had found that to be unrealistic, he also had relied on it for strength more than he’d realized. That Roman had somehow managed to dampen that was almost more offensive than the fact that he’d locked Patton and Virgil up.

Before Logan could think of an appropriate response, the trio rounded the corner into the square, then immediately skidded to a halt. Patton let out a gasp and Virgil swore under his breath; all Logan could do was stand there blankly and take in the scene.

Guards in full regalia lined the square, blocking off every possible avenue of escape. The Dragon Witch lay sprawled out on the ground, a deep wound in her side causing her breath to come in quick, pained gasps. 

Roman stood over her fallen body, and the red sunlight shining down on his silver breastplate made it look as if he was bathed in blood. His face was twisted in a terrible mix of fury and triumph, and he brandished his sword at his defeated foe, as though daring her to stand and challenge him again. 

She was in her dragon form, but as her wound spilled blood down onto the cobblestones, that body fizzled away, revealing the humanoid woman Logan had first met outside her lair. Her robes were torn and bloody and her face was deathly pale, but her eyes still blazed with a defiant fire as she stared up at her opponent.

“Any final words, Witch?” Roman asked in a steely voice.  

The Dragon Witch opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a high pitched cry rang out through the square.

“Stay back!” 

Maddie darted forward, putting herself between Roman and the witch’s body, gripping Dragon Witch’s staff tightly in both hands. The thing was nearly twice her height and she brandished it clumsily, but Roman still paused in his advance. 

“Out of my way, girl,” he said, but Maddie shook her head.

“I said back!” she insisted, shaking the staff towards him. 

“Run along now, little hero,” the Dragon Witch coughed, reaching weakly towards the girl as if to pull her back. “Your part is done.” 

Maddie shook her head again, and Roman frowned. 

“I won’t tell you again. Stand. Down,” he said coldly. 

Maddie shifted her feet and gripped the staff more tightly, but she did not move, and Roman sighed, raising his sword. 

“Enough!” Logan shouted before he could bring the blade down.

Roman looked up, his eyes flashing with hatred as they landed on his three fellow sides. Logan’s confidence faltered as the full force of that glare landed on him and he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. 

What if it doesn’t work? What if it’s not enough? I have no more tricks up my sleeve…if this plan fails, then what are we going to do?

Logan’s racing thoughts were pulled to a stop with a sudden, simple touch. He looked down and saw that Patton had stepped forward and intertwined their fingers. The moral side glanced up at him and nodded, a slight waver in his smile the only sign betraying his own nerves. Virgil stepped up beside them, locking eyes with Logan as he wordlessly took Patton’s other hand. An understanding passed between them, and Logan smiled, giving Patton’s hand an encouraging squeeze. He looked back to the square, and took a deep breath.“Enough, Roman!” he repeated, his voice steady and strong. “This ends now!” 

— — —

AN: So I know that LAST time I updated I said I wanted to update the fic more and then almost 5 years passed, but I can say with confidence that THIS YEAR chapter 10 at least will be released, if not the entire end of the fic (I won't actually know whether the conclusion takes one or two chapters to write until I, you know, write it, but it's outlined, I promise). I've been trying to finish this story for so long, and I know it looks like nothing happened between these updates, but rest assured, I thought about this story and how much I wanted to finish it often during these past few years. Thank you so much for being patient with me, and thank you to anyone who still has stuck around to read this, even after all this time. I love each and every one of y'all <3

(If you were on the Our Own Villain taglist, I will be tagging you in a reblog, tagging has changed so much in four years that my taglist copy-paste doesn't even work anymore)

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Welcome to "Come into the Water" by @annaizscribbling

You won't be coming back out the same person. We were paired together for the @tss-storytime and this story is an absolutely fantastic trip you should go on.

(no reposting/editing/feeding to an AI, etc. be respectful and also go read the fic, thanks! give Anais comments!)

[shayoranwriting]

Calm Among the Stars

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairing: Analogical; can be read as platonic or romantic

Word count: 490

Summary: With Virgil feeling a little pensive, Logan decides to keep him company using stargazing.

-

"You've been out here a while," Logan said as he cautiously approached Virgil, who was currently sitting on the grass in the yard staring up at the night sky.

"Yeah," came the quiet reply.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

"...yeah."

With a sigh, Logan summoned a thick blanket and, sitting himself down beside Virgil, draped it around both of their shoulders.

Virgil looked at him with surprise.

"Would you like to hear about some constellations?" Logan said simply.

Virgil huffed a laugh.

"Sure thing, Teach."

Logan straightened to attention, eyes shining with delight.

"Alright. Do you see that star right there? The one that's brighter than all the others?"

Virgil nodded, humming in acknowledgement.

"Well, that is Sirius, or the dog star, which is the brightest star in the night sky and part of the constellation Canis Major. It is actually what is known as a binary star, where two stars orbit one another and they can appear as a single body at this great distance."

Virgil made an interested sound to show he was still listening. He shifted to lean against Logan slightly, causing him to pause, smiling softly at the other.

"Now, moving up from Sirius, do you see that line of three stars right there?"

"Mm-hmm."

"That's Orion's belt. See the shape of his body? And there's his sword, his shield, and his club. Orion is particularly easy to find because the constellation has a number of especially bright stars. For example, Rigel, there, and Betelgeuse, right there, are among the brightest stars in the night sky and Orion contains six more stars with a magnitude below than 3. Where stellar magnitude is concerned, the smaller the number, the brighter the object."

"That seems a little confusing."

"Not really. It's a reverse logarithmic scale that was adapted from the original system proposed by Hipparchus, who defined the brightest stars as the first magnitude, the next brightest as the second magnitude, and so on."

"That's less confusing," Virgil said genuinely.

"Indeed. And because Orion is so easy to find in the night sky, it can be a useful tool for locating other constellations. For example, you can follow Orion's belt in the opposite direction from Sirius to find the Taurus constellation."

Logan glanced at Virgil from the corner of his eye. "Just like you can use the Big Dipper and Polaris to find the tail end of Draco."

"Draco is my favourite constellation! Dragonheart was a good movie," Virgil said, now seeming more present.

A stretch of silence passed between them, though it was a comfortable silence.

Finally, Virgil looked away from the stars and turned to Logan.

"Thanks, Logan."

Logan's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You're very welcome," he said in a bemused tone.

"I'm ready to head back inside now."

Logan smiled, "Alright."

He stood up, offering Virgil a hand to help him do the same, and, together, they headed for the familiar warmth of the commons living room.

[analoceits]

love bites CH. 1: new blood

A03 LINK

Virgil leaned against the headboard and sighed. The apartment was strangely silent, and not in a pleasant way. It seeped into his bones and rested there, choking his lungs. It was the type of quiet that made him cry as a kid, because he could hear his blood flowing and his heart beating and he could feel how fragile both were..

At least he couldn’t hear either now.

Whatever. That was irrelevant. He was thinking about the quiet, because that meant Logan was gone and it was stressing him out. Logan had warned him, of course - some kind of after school program his professor had offered him that meant he would be staying a little later. Even if he knew why though, it didn’t stop his thoughts from racing.

Virgil had protested when Logan brought it up. Lo, jesus christ, that late? Seriously? C’mon, that is a disaster waiting to happen- what if you get lost? Or, you could get stolen away by some creepy guy, or you could get fucking mugged, or- (Or Bitten.)

But Logan, as comforting as ever, reached a hand up and gently patted his shoulder, stating, the cities crime rate is particularly low. That’s why we both chose to live here, isn’t it? I will be completely alright. To give you extra assurance, I’ll inform you when I leave so you can ‘freak the fuck out’ as you said if I’m not home in thirty or so minutes, ok?

As promised, the text had arrived twenty-seven minutes ago. Logan should be home any minute now. Virgil sighed, laying back against the headboard. Logan’s words were absurdly comforting. It shouldn’t be allowed, really. It’s as if Logan had stolen the voice of an angel somehow, and used it just to speak to Virgil in the softest way.

For the approximately 100th time since the realization had hit Virgil a number of months ago, that thought ran through his head again. Despite every warning and caution against, Virgil had fallen hopelessly, and desperately in love with a mortal.

The thought sent a miserably defeated let delighted sigh through him, before it was cut off by the front door pulling open and promptly slamming shut so hard that it shook the apartment. Virgil shot straight up, fear striking through his ribs, head spinning to the vague direction of the noise, “Logan?” He yelled across the apartment.

There was no answer.

“Logan!” He repeated, the force in his voice stronger this time.

Logan did not answer. Logan always answered.

Virgil was running before he really knew it, his body moving with unnatural stiff perfection, any passing thought of seeming human escaping him as his feet slammed against the floor. He flung around the corner in less than a second and caught his eyes on a figure.

No, not a figure, it was Logan. It was Logan, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes and only then between his terror and relief did Virgil remember there were actually reasons why he had to seem human. A major one being to not terrify his very human roommate

After a brief, embarrassed glance down that resulted in him seeing black, smoking marks in the tile (they were not getting their deposit back now) he looked back up and spoke, still unsure if he was embarrassed or terrified. “Logan, are you ok? Did something happen? You could’ve called me, you know-” Logan raised his hand to cut Virgil off, and Virgil hesitantly obliged.

In what was becoming a pretty concerning pattern - Logan still did not speak.

They both stared at each other in an awkward, tense silence. It’s like they were playing a game of chicken where Virgil was trying to not open his mouth again, and Logan was trying to remember what words were. Virgil barely resisted the urge to reach for him as the silence drew on.

Finally, finally because Virgil might fucking die - die again - if he didn’t hear the nerds voice right then, Logan spoke. “I am alright.” He said, but the words shook as he spoke them, “.. I didn’t know you could run that fast, Virgil.”

Virgil resisted the urge to cringe so hard his fangs would dig into his bottom lip, and instead responded with a very hesitant, “I didn’t know you liked slamming doors all of a sudden, but here we are.” Despite his best efforts, the words held more concern than annoyance.

Logan did actually cringe at that, seemingly having less self control than Virgil which - jesus, when did that happen? - but he managed to force out an answer. “I apologize, it was just stress,” he said and Virgil could see it - he looked strikingly pale. As pale as Virgil had been all those years ago. 

The thought sent a viscous nausea through him.

“So..,” Virgil started, picking over his words carefully, because Logan for the first time was the fragile one of the two of them and Virgil couldn’t stand himself if he broke Logan while he was like this, “you aren’t alright, are you?” He asked in his best soft voice, taking a hesitant step forward.

Despite his attempt at softness, Logan took the words viscerally, entire body tensing as he stepped back. As if Virgil had just torn him open for all to see. “I am fine.” He responded tersely, and Virgil was pretty sure the tension in the room might kill them both.

Virgil hated this, he decided suddenly. Whatever the fuck was happening, he hated it. He hated Logan staring at him like a terrified puppy, and he hated trying to advance on him like he was animal control. “Logan, something is clearly wrong. I’m worried. Please, please just let me help. This once?”

Logan stared at him, thinking over the words seemingly - and then he tried to run. He was running across the floor - and when the fuck did he learn to run that fast - then Virgil was grabbing him by his wrist, cringing with guilt at the way Logan made a pathetic half-shriek in his throat at that.

Virgil held on loosely, knowing it wasn’t a fight in the first place. Humans always felt weak against him now, it took more focus to not hurt them than it did, really. Even if it made him sick to think about, Logan didn’t really have a chance against him. Virgil took a deep breath.

Then Logan tore out of his grasp with a sudden strength Virgil didn’t know he had, pushing Virgil off hard enough to make him stumble before spinning around and starting to scramble with his rooms door. Virgil was frozen for a brief moment. That shouldn’t be possible. How was that possible?

His mind caught up eventually, and suddenly Virgil reached out and pulled Logan away from the door, holding tight to him with a strength that would have usually crushed his ribs. “Logan, Logan, what the utter fuck-” Virgil hissed under his breath, dragging him into the living room.

Logan kicked against him with that scary force again, but he was unfocused - even if he was.. stronger, somehow, he clearly hadn’t learned to use that strength at all. After a few moments, Logan calmed down enough for Virgil to hold him just by his wrists.

The way that Logan pulled against him, trying to use all the force in his body, reminded Virgil viscerally of himself freshly turned.

Fuck, he needed to stop thinking about his turning and being a vampire cause he was pretty sure that was just making things worse, actually. Instead, he needed to focus on the problem in front of him - the shaking fucking mess of his roommate he was trying to subdue.

Virgil choked down his best approximation of a deep breath and tightened his grip around Logan’s wrists as gently as he could until he could feel Logan stopping his attempts at struggle. It felt - mean, really shitty actually, but something was deeply fucking wrong and he was not leaving it. He couldn’t take the risk.

Even if he wasn’t struggling against Virgil, though, Logan was clearly struggling to breath and Virgil knew they weren’t going to have any of the good conversation he wanted while Logan was having a panic attack.

“Hey, bud,” he started tentatively, trying his best to speak to the shaking mass of Logan, “I got you, don’t worry.” He said before adding a few clicks after - he knew humans couldn’t hear them, but it was still instinctual. Even if Logan couldn’t hear them, Virgil would swear he relaxed a little after he did them - maybe Janus was right about his theory that humans could sense them subconsciously.

Slowly, painfully, over a number of minutes Virgil did not bother to count, Logan calmed down. His panicked wheezes turned to shaky but deep breaths and the tenseness slowly leaked out of him. That lost look in his eyes slowly became more aware, gaze focused on the tile. Virgil gave an encouraging smile, “there you go.”

Then, without a singular fucking warning, Logan lunged at him. Virgil didn’t even think to fight back, instead just standing dumbly as he felt what were now obviously baby fangs try to dig into his skin for blood that wasn’t there. Blood that hadn’t been there for years.

Logan choked out a shriek and pulled back sharply, looking at Virgil with overwhelming guilt and terror. “I- Virgil, I’m so sorry, that was unintentional I wouldn’t ever hurt you- I didn’t- Virgil-” his voice broke and he was clearly begging now, as Virgil just stood there, processing the shock.

As soon as he processed it, though, he was moving. He reached out and grabbed Logan, practically dragging him to the couch and throwing him at it. “Stay here,” he hissed, a million thoughts screaming through his head as he ran through the kitchen.

The loudest was in Janus’s voice. You had barely five minutes to live after that bite, if I hadn’t helped.

He was by the fridge and his hands were in the icy cold that he couldn’t even feel anymore and he was grasping around for a feeling of a latch, a secret compartment tucked away in the back of the fridge fucking hell where was it-

His finger caught on something and he pulled on it so hard the compartment door snapped and clattered to the floor with a slam. He did not care, his hands awkwardly grasping for the first thing he could grab. There was a bag of blood in his hands and he was moving, darting  for the living room.

Somewhere between the living room and kitchen he tore the bag. He must’ve, because there was blood pouring onto his fingers and onto the floor and it did not matter for a second, nothing mattered but getting too Logan. 

He dropped to a knee by Logan’s side, and he looked painfully, horrifically pale now. Virgil could see the way he struggled to breath, one hand grasping at his neck, this time not with fear but from the creeping death Virgil knew was approaching him. Virgil reached out, his bloody hands were on his jaw and he was tilting his head back and-

He poured the blood into Logans mouth, practically covering them both in red. Time stumbled back into place as he did, Virgil able to hear the telltale way Logan desperately choked down the blood. Virgil dug his nails into the couch, pulling himself up. It was all he could do to stop himself from physically tackling Logan.

Everything was slower now, every movement drawn out and Virgil took a shaky breath through his dead lungs. He was so indescribably happy he could breath again, that everything was alright, that Logan would be okay. They were okay.

Then his eyes drifted down to the literal blood on his own hands and he was leering again.

Not quickly like moments ago, no- time slowed around him, the whole force of it pressing against as his back just to indulge in his misery, his shame. Because Virgil had just done the worst thing he could do. He was just as bad as he thought he would become.

Technically, he didn’t. Virgil, for all intents and purposes did not turn Logan. No, that process was started for him by someone else. Someone who Virgil was going to slaughter, going to watch them choke and die starved of blood just like the fate they almost damned his Logan too- 

But Virgil had ended the process.

Without even giving Logan a choice. A horrible false choice; a choice between an instant death and a stretched out, painful eternity neither of which he would fully understand, but some semblance of choice. Instead, without asking he poured the blood in his mouth he damned Logan just like he had been damned and-

Logan hugged him. His arms were around Virgil’s torso and he was shaking like a leaf in the wind, gasping into his chest and getting more blood all over the both of them. Virgil stood, his arms by his side dumbly as he processed it and then he hugged him back, holding him in what was practically a death grip.

After a long, tender moment Logan pulled himself up, wriggling out of Virgil's hold embarrassedly. His cheeks were flushed red and he glanced down at the couch with wide eyes. Virgil could not fucking believe Logan had the emotional capacity to be embarrassed over a hug after everything that had just happened.

Virgil eventually fully let Logan go, sitting down beside him on the couch. He took a deep steadying breath and glanced up at Logan with the best reassuring smile he could muster.

Logan gave him a similar, if shakier smile back and Virgil could swear, for just a second, they might actually end up ok. Even if things were gonna be utterly terrible for a while they might, by some fucking miracle, be ok. Of course they would. They were together.

“So..,” Logan awkwardly pawed for the coffee table in front of them, grabbing a notepad and pen with shaky hands. He clicked the pen, turning back to Virgil. “Would the correct terminology be ‘vampirism’?” He asked, pen hovering over paper. Virgil blinked, and then started cackling so hard he was worried he would damage something.

Logan glared at him with withering embarrassment, but Virgil knew it held no heat behind it. He was pretty sure at the moment neither of them knew how to be mad at each other. After a moment, Virgil managed to nod through his cackles.

As soon as Virgil managed to officially calm down - which took a solid minute and a half, by his guess, he looked to Logan and gave him a reassuring smirk, feeling much more calm than just a few minutes ago. Ok. They were gonna be okay. “Sorry. I’m sorry, really, mean it,” he forced out with only a few giggles, “anything else?”

Logan squinted his eyes at him for a long second, still holding onto his annoyance from Virgil's reaction, but he eventually relented, “well, I.. have a list,” Virgil snorted again and Logan pointedly ignored it, “but firstly.. how long have you been 21?” He queried, looking to Virgil with curiosity.

“First thing,” Virgil started, “utterly fuck you for indirectly quoting Twilight at me.” That managed to startle a laugh at Logan, which made Virgil practically preen with delight. “Second thing, I was turned like five years ago-” Logan gave him a surprised look, and Virgil raised a finger before he continued, clarifying.“- when I was 18.”

Logan hummed acknowledgingly, scribbling something down on the notepad and then responding with a curt, “so, if you had aged normally, you would be around 23 at the moment, correct?” Virgil gave a casual nod. He would say he was 23, honestly, but that was a technicality.

“Yup,” he said and then suddenly he was grinning, realizing he got to do something very funny, “which means I’m now the oldest in the apartment. Bitch.” He added and the satisfaction was so much he was a small bit worried he might manage to actually drown in it.

Logan gave him a look with wide, mortified eyes, and then groaned, head in his hands. “Out of all the things that could come out of this..” He said, seemingly half to himself and half to Virgil. Virgil snickered.

“Nah,” Virgil said playfully, “there are a lot of things worse than that, like not seeing the sun ever again - I promise you that, pocket protector,” he spoke without a single thought and then looked back over, cringing seeing the sudden pained look on Logan’s face. Shit. That was the worst thing he could’ve said, wasn’t it? 

Virgil reached out, trying to think of something to say to make it better, but Logan waved him off, eyes focused on some invisible point in the middle distance. “Yeah, there is a lot worse,” he said under his breath, and Virgil wasn’t sure who exactly he was speaking too. “This is going to be horrible, isn’t it?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” Virgil answered honestly, “it’s going to really suck.” He reached out, starting to gently rub circles into Logans back. This time, he didn’t refuse the touch, instead just slightly leaning in to it. “You’ll survive though,” Virgil said, “I mean, I did and I’m a fucking wreck?”

Logan choked out a laugh at that, rubbing his face off before sitting back up, leaning away from Virgil’s touch again. “I’ll uh, keep that in mind.” He said with a small smile. After a second, he dropped back to a more serious tone, “whats.. next? What do we need to do now?” 

Virgil sighed miserably, because he knew the answer and coincidentally fucking hated it. He hated every part of it with his whole being and how much of a trainwreck it would be. “Very fucking simple,” he said, annoyance already building as he pulled out his phone, and started dialing the number in.

“I have to call fucking Janus.”

[pencilpat]

In Any Form You Take - dukeceit

Scar positivity, mostly made for the purpose of comforting myself, but I wanted to share it as well. I hardly see media involving people with scars as gnarly as mine, so hopefully this can bring others comfort as well. The title is a reference to this song.

Read on Ao3 here

[Content warning for implied past self harm and current body image issues.]

Remus sits splayed out on its bed, trying to act like it isn't waiting for something. Janus has, for the first time in the months they've been dating, agreed to stay the night in its room. He disappeared into the bathroom to change almost 30 minutes ago, and Remus would be lying if it said it wasn't worried. It turns over to look at the ceiling, making bored popping noises with its lips.

It doesn't blame Janus for any nervousness there may be, Janus hasn't been naked around... well, any of the sides for as long as it can remember. Remus can't place when it happened, but as Thomas grew up and Janus became more engrossed in his role, he started to cover up everything. Literally and metaphorically. Long sleeves and even gloves, at one point when they were a teen he even had a half mask on his face before everyone discovered his snake-like features.

Remus knows Janus must be getting into pyjamas, and the sound of shuffling indicates it doesn't have to speculate for very much longer. Janus cracks open the door slightly, just enough to see his face, his long hair down and swaying by his chin. "Remus?"

"Yeah, Janus? Everything okay in there?"

"Yes. I'm okay. I- I just need you to not act weird, okay? Can you promise?"

Remus sits up cross-legged, face scrunched up in confusion. It chuckles slightly, rolling its eyes. "All I ever do is act weird, but I can tone it down for ya."

"Remus, I'm serious."

It takes pause, blinking and tilting its head to the side softly. Janus's tone of voice is heavily somber and almost nervous, and it's not one that Remus hears often. "Uh, okay. I promise, no weirdness."

Janus takes in a deep breath, and the door opens. His hand falls from the knob and holds his own wrist anxiously, eyes refusing to make contact with a nervous attempt at a coy smile filling his features. "I- I know it's a lot, feel free to stare and ogle as long as you'd like." Janus's biting sarcasm feels completely toothless, and he can't quite make himself look at Remus's face. So, when its suddenly right in front of him, he startles and gasps quietly. But as he's pulling away, Remus is reaching towards him.

"Stare and act weird at you about this? What? Why would I be that mean?" Remus lets its hand hover between them as it waits for a sign that it's okay to touch. It tries not to look outwardly fascinated by the scars that cover its boyfriend's arms almost entirely, all thick and bumpy in varying shades of purple and white. Old, but definitely some nasty keloids.

"Remus you've done meaner things in your sleep, don't play with me." Janus laughs and it comes out strained. Cringing at himself, he barely feels present all of a sudden. Like he's floating. Dizzy, lightheaded. "I know you've seen scars before, though you only seem to have them for a short time when you do get them, but they... stayed on me." Janus rubs his own arm, horrifically textured no matter what he does, breathing out shakily. Remus is observing him silently, and Remus is never silent. It makes him terrified. "Sorry, I know they're gross, this was probably overstepping. It was wrong to assume you'd be okay with it, I can go back to my own-"

Remus's hands close the gap, and rests right there, directly touching his scars. "Nah, you assumed right, I don't mind one bit!" It smiles, sharp teeth gleaming at him. "The shit you've seen me touch and you thought I'd find you gross? Jan, that's so unintelligent that I barely recognize you." Janus is frozen in place, his eyes watching Remus's face as it touches his arm, running its hands over even the ones Janus won't let himself touch. A gentle smile fills its face, and it leans in to plant a kiss on Janus's cheek. "Certainly adds a bit of dramatic flair to one's body, huh?"

Janus feels tears in his eyes, glancing to the side as Remus kisses his scales. He can't seem to make words come out of his mouth, because if they did it would just be bashful apologies and humiliated proclamations of how ugly he is.

"Did someone tell you you were gross?" Remus asks, bizarrely quiet and soft compared to its usual self.

"God no, I'd rather die than show any of the others this. No, I did all the name calling myself, thank you very much."

Remus's arms wrap around him in a hug, gripping him tightly. "Well then tell that asshole to shut up for once, why don't you?" It buries its face into Janus's shoulder. "I will hunt down and eat anyone who ever says those things to you, and that includes you yourself!"

"Remus..." Janus can't help a light, comforted chuckle at the expression of violence. "You won't be eating anyone, down boy," he jokes, laughing even as he's sniffling.

Remus pulls back, gazing at him fondly. "You're really pretty, Janus. Scars included." Its eyes darken playfully. "And when I see a pretty boy I want him in my bed!" Remus suddenly swoops Janus up over its shoulder like a sack, making the smaller side yelp and cling to it upside down. Without time to adjust he's chucked haphazardly into a pile of pillows, wheezing out a laugh and covering his face.

"My god, you're so dumb. Fine then, bed me Mr. Duke," Janus dramatically throws a hand against his forehead and lays back as though on a fainting couch.

Remus cackles and throws itself on the pillows right beside him. "No offense, babe, but I'm exhausted and I'd rather just cuddle and feel up your sick ass battle wounds, if you'd let me. I can even scream dramatically and act like I stepped in horse shit if that'll validate your self flagellation!"

"Oh, how caring and noble an offer," Janus quips, rolling his eyes and cuddling against Remus's chest. They both laugh, and then go quiet, staring across at each other.

"Love you," Remus offers up.

"Love you too," Janus accepts, the room darkening as Remus wills it to and settling them into darkness for sleep.

[dotemakesthings]

forgotten but not gone

(please be gentle, y’all, this is the first public fic I’ve posted since basically… ever)

inspired by/remix of the cursed light by datfearlessfangirl

okay, so.

the first Split was relatively harmless, believe it or not. it separated out Remus and Roman, sure, but the sides all still lived together and cared about each other.

as a teen/young adult, the sides were in cutesy little pairs.

Janus and Roman, the theater gays.

Virgil and Logan, the couple that considers sitting silently in a room together with headphones on a romantic activity.

and Remus and Patton, the chaotic powerhouses who love nothing more than making messes in the kitchen and screaming I-love-you’s from across the house.

but then

the second split.

it was a crisis of morality and identity on Thomas’s part

so intense that it ripped the mindscape in two

the “acceptable” sides simply got their memories wiped, starting from scratch

while the dark sides were locked away and hurt.

now, neither side knew about the others and the effect it had on them

so when the light sides saw a closet oozing with Bad Feelings, they felt it best to investigate for the good of Thomas

and they were greeted with monsters.

Remus, screaming out horrific imagery and banging his head raw and bloody against the wall

Virgil, spiraling into such a bad panic attack that the shadows around him were lashing out without him realizing

and Janus, fangs and all six arms out, who uncontrollably lied about how they were useless here, how they weren’t wanted, they needed to get out, ssssstupid little sides

the lights screamed

and ran out

the darks chased them

because, here’s the thing

imagine you have known someone all your life. you know their tics, what makes them happy

and you’re not afraid of what they’re like when they’re in distress, because you know what to expect. and you know you’re safe with them.

now. imagine meeting someone for the first time on your absolute worst day.

that’s what happened to the darks.

the Patton of before would have rushed to Remus, gently guiding him away from the wall and crooning soothing nonsense to drown out his babble about death and gore and being alone alone alone

the Roman of before would have nodded and taken none of what Janus was saying at face value, cradling Janus’s hands in his own and humming a quiet tune 

and the Logan of before would have tapped out a slow, calm rhythm next to Virgil until he could breathe and handle touch again

but they didn’t know any of that anymore.

all they saw were monsters.

and all the dark sides saw were their friends, family, lovers there when they needed help. 

the light sides fled back to the upper mindscape 

and the darks slammed into the barrier

screaming and clawing at the invisible wall

for someone to help

for their family to look at them

for someone to explain what was going on

and the light sides closed and locked the door with a sigh of shaky relief.

now, the light sides develop something of an ingrained bad reaction to the darks due to this colossally bad first impression.

Patton: disgust, fear, thin veneer of trying to be polite while getting them to leave the vicinity as soon as possible

Logan: coldness, indifference. not cruelty but no warmth or allowances

Roman: fear masked by anger and intense protectiveness.

and the dark sides all deal with the upheaval, betrayal, and pain in different ways.

Virgil: depressed, afraid, tends to lash out at the slightest provocation. goes from snarky to mean.

Janus: gives up and pretends everything is fine. sees no point in hurting himself to get something back that can't be replaced or repaired. covers heartbreak with snark. can't quite stop himself from flirting with Roman but pretends it's just manipulation. focuses just on Thomas and what's best for him, ignoring all else.

Remus: wears his rotting heart on his sleeve. tries the hardest to get Patton back and is the least equipped to do so. isn't exactly trying to keep the others' spirits up, but more just doesn't lose hope that they can somehow fix this. 

the dark sides can only come to the main mindscape at all at night at first.

the barrier stops them any other time

it’s Remus who finds out first, mindlessly banging his head against the barrier to pass the time only to fall flat on his face when it fizzles out

and they all slowly start sneaking in at night to see the home that they were thrown out of

and slowly, the lights start having odd little incidents

nothing in person, at first.

Roman: he finds something in progress and abandoned at the border between the imagination halves that he and Remus both worked on. he can't figure out why it looks so recent even though he can’t remember ever getting along with his brother this well.

Patton: he's having a Sad Night. he thinks he's hiding it well, but someone (Virgil) notices and leaves him cookies that are one of his favorites. not a secret recipe, just ones he likes. there's a little note saying that sometimes it's okay to have a second cookie. Patton can't figure out who would know him this well.

Logan: he’s dealing with an absolute menace of a meeting. he gets back to his room, seething all the way, to see a plain porcelain plate with an unsigned note saying “break me all you want, nerd! I’ll put myself back together!”. he experimentally drops it from a few feet up. it shatters with a very satisfying crack and then, a few seconds later, reassembles itself in his hand. he has a grand old time shattering the plate against the wall again and again until his rage has subsided to a manageable level. he can’t figure out who would come up with an idea like this.

and then there start being little middle-of-the-night interactions. because for some reason, the light sides have a much harder time falling asleep nowadays.

Virgil looks over Roman’s shoulder as he watches a Disney movie in the living room at three AM to try and fall asleep. Anxiety offers a teasing insult to the protagonist. Roman jumps out of his skin, at first threatening to stab him, but then lets him tentatively settle in on the counter behind him. they roast the movie together, gradually picking up steam until Roman actually laughs at something Anxiety says. they both freeze and stare at each other for a heartbeat until Roman sinks out without a word.

Patton finds himself tucked into bed after a too-long day sorting through Thomas' emotional responses. when he wakes up, there's a somehow still steaming cup of sweet herbal tea that tastes like a snickerdoodle. he vaguely remembers a soft voice hissing at him that he needs to pay more attention to his own needs.

Logan is reading philosophy textbooks and muttering to himself out loud. Janus offers a quiet critique. they have a heartbeat of wonderful discussion before Logan "remembers" himself and shuts it down.

eventually, through all this, their memories start coming back. it’s triggered slowly through their platonic interactions with their friends, and then all at once by their romantic partners.

(because the love of friends is just as impactful and important as the love of a partner)

Patton: 

Patton is sad and frustrated, muttering to himself and pacing in the kitchen.

someone walks in and he immediately stops and snaps into happy pappy Patton mode. “Oh hey, kiddo-“

it's Remus, who just cocks his head and says "you know you don't have to do that with me, right?"

and after some protesting on Morality’s part

he ends up goading Patton into a very cathartic expression of anger, fear, and frustration, and helps him sort it out. 

at some point, Remus has shifted to holding Patton in a loose embrace as Patton waves his hands and rants and sobs.

Patton doesn’t realize that he burrows deeper into Remus’ arms every time he wiggles.

to the point that he’s turned sideways in Remus’ lap, with one arm curled around him and the other one free to gesture.

and then when it’s all over, they’re talked out, and it’s almost sunrise, Remus reluctantly starts to tear himself away. 

and Patton, who quite suddenly cannot bear the thought of Remus letting him go, holds on

Logan: 

panic attacks? Logan? certainly not. he doesn’t get those.

so when he finds himself gasping for air, feeling like his chest is on fire, and locked into his worst thoughts, he doesn’t know what to do

because he knows how to treat panic attacks

but this isn’t one. definitely

and even if it was, for some reason all his knowledge on how to treat them is slipping from his mind no matter how hard he tries to reach from it

you have to breathe? somehow? but he can’t breathe, can’t think

and somehow through it, he hears a raspy voice

counting steadily and quietly

and he realizes that there’s a stim toy placed in his hands that he’s wringing.

and it looks familiar, but he knows he’s never seen it before

and there’s soft, flowy music playing from a Bluetooth speaker next to him

and that feels familiar too

and without quite knowing why, only having a bone-deep certainty that it’ll help, he slumps over into the person sitting next to him

smells lavender and laundry detergent

feels soft fabric under his cheek

and suddenly everything snaps into place

oh

of course

why does he feel so safe? because he’s with the safest person in the world.

Roman: 

okay so

Roman alternates between being scared of Deceit and feeling extremely attracted to him

this, naturally, freaks Roman out

and he expresses this by getting more and more aggressive towards Janus

at some point, he panics and attacks Deceit

Deceit freezes with Roman’s sword to his throat. they stare at each other

before Janus sinks out

a day or so later, he comes back

all six hands up, ungloved, and open to show that he means no harm

“You win.”

“… What?” says Roman.

“You. Win. I’m tired of fighting you. Grant me one last request and you’ll never have to see me again.”

some buried part of Roman is conflicted. but his conscious self jumps at the opportunity. “What do you want, snake?”

“Dance with me.”

“… What.”

“Grant me the honor of one dance, my prince, and I’ll leave. You’ll never have to deal with my presence again.”

And Roman, wary of some trap but eager to be rid of the beautiful confusing disgusting snake, agrees.

They rise up in an elegantly decorated ballroom

dressed in a fancy suit (Roman) and an elegant ballgown (Deceit)

and they dance

at first, stilted and formal

keeping to the steps and no more

but then Janus seems to come to some internal conclusion

and folds himself in close to Roman

before spinning outwards, skirt swirling, and coming back in

and somehow, without Roman quite knowing why, they’re dancing.

flourishes, leaning into each other, Roman even lifting Deceit into the air at one point

and his heart keeps pinging strangely

aching

(familiar, this is familiar, you’ve done this before)

but eventually, the dance has to end

and they both come to a stop as the song finishes, panting heavily

Janus is smiling through his heavy breaths

and Roman finds he is too

but Janus’ smile cracks and falls and he steps back.

“Well,” he says. “That was the deal.”

and he lifts Roman’s hand, which somehow has his sword in it although it didn’t a second before, so that the blade is at his throat

just like the night before

“One quick cut ought to do it.”

Self Preservation exposes his throat to his beloved. 

because he doesn't want to hurt Roman. 

because this dance was his last selfish act before he gives up

one last moment to remember his prince by

and Roman pauses with his sword at Janus’ throat.

because Roman can't figure out why Janus, the evil self serving snake, wouldn't take an opportunity to hurt him to save himself

why he asked for this dance at all

why his arms around him felt like home

and all of a sudden

the memories he’s been denying all this time hit him like a truck

and he remembers

(after all that, Roman congratulates Janus on his idea to bring his memories back by dancing together)

(Janus smiles at him and changes the subject)

the barrier weakens the more that the lights feel comfortable around the darks.

the more that Thomas feels comfortable around them.

by the time everyone’s memory is back, it’s like it was never there at all.

[roseianxiety]

All wrapped up by the fireplace

Ship: Romantic Roceit

Content Warnings: Mentions of alcohol usage, drunkenness, foul language, slight innuendo

Synopsis: Roman has some alone time with himself after their little Christmas Eve celebration, but a certain drunken snake approaches him and ruins his peace. At least that's what he thinks.

AO3

“Roman, is it really necessary for you to turn the living room into THIS?” 

Logan queries loudly as he gestures to the living room, now completely covered in Christmas decor and where their TV stood was now replaced with a grand brick fireplace. Roman really put a lot of effort into all this grandiosity.

“Yes, Logan, it is necessary.” Roman drawled out as he gave Logan a look while hanging the last ornament on the Christmas tree. He then added, hopping off his little stool. “You'd really expect ME to NOT go all out on Christmas?” he remarked at Logan.

Logan merely sighs and rolls his eyes, making his way towards his recliner chair. “I shouldn't have expected less from you and Patton when it comes to celebrating festivities,” he stated, gently sitting down and opening up one of the newspapers Virgil gave him. 

Roman hums proudly before strutting to the kitchen to check on whatever Patton was working on.

“Hey, Popstar, how's the baked goods doing there?” Roman questions cheerily from across the counter, propping his palm under his chin while he watches Patton do his thing.

Patton turns around, slightly surprised at Roman's sudden appearance but then giggles. “Oh hey ya, kiddo, didn't see you there.”. He continued, pulling out a tray of gingerbread man cookies out of the oven. “I'm almost done with the last batch. Careful, they're very hot.”.

He says before placing the tray down on the countertop to let it cool. Roman immediately reaches for one but hisses in pain and pulls his hand back when he burns himself with the piping-hot cookies. “Ow…”.

Patton tuts and shakes his head at Roman's impulsiveness, “I did tell you they're hot. You saw me take them out of the oven just now.”. He reaches to take Roman's hand but the other declines and pulls away. 

“Nah, it's okay. This burn is far from reaching my intestines anyway, so I'm cool. I was merely excited to taste your fantastic cookies, Padre.” Roman shrugs and moves to try and take one but Patton gently slaps his hand away. The creative prince pouts at that.

“No no, they're still piping hot. And, we still have to wait for the last batch before we can finally eat all of these.” Patton states with a raised chin, trying to seem authoritative but he looks silly and cute. Don't tell him that.

“Bummer,” Roman mutters with a pout before sighing. He straightens (ha!) his posture and stretches his arms over his head, turning on his heels. “Anyways, you better continue that while I go check whatever chaos Remus is doing. Don't want him ruining my party.”.

He says as he makes his way back to the living room. As he does so, he could see Virgil hissing aggressively at Remus while his twin brother was teasing the crap out of the anxious facet.

“Come on, take him! He's Mr. Fuzzy’s boyfriend!” Remus exclaimed, trying to give another handcrafted hairball abomination to Virgil who was desperately trying to get away from him. And Janus was there, laughing his drunk ass off by the sidelines.

Virgil notices Roman walking towards them and immediately calls for him while trying to stop Remus from getting close to him. “Roman! Come get your unhinged brother!” He exclaimed, before hissing at Remus.

“Hi, Roman~” Janus giggles drunkenly as he gives Roman a small. Geez… he really was drunk. Roman chooses to ignore him.

“Sorry Virgil but you're gonna have to deal with him yourself.” Roman hums, raising his hands in defense. Virgil groans at his response, now more annoyed. Remus then pushes the hairball abomination right at Virgil's face, causing the other to yelp.

Roman leaves them be and walks towards the couch, plopping just beside Logan who was engrossed with his puzzle thing or whatever it was. He tried to take a peek at it only for his face to scrunch up in confusion, not understanding one bit of it. Roman didn't what was so interesting about it but eh, at least Logan was having the time of his life.

He leans back on the couch while he watches as the fire crackles in the fireplace, emitting a cozy warmth that he always loved. Roman might now admit it out loud but he loved enjoying his Christmas with everyone. It’s good not to be alone.

“To be honest, I didn't think Remus would be this… tame when he is drunk. How surprising.” Logan comments as looks down at Remus on the floor before sipping on his wine. The chaotic individual was currently splayed out on the living room floor, already deadbeat asleep.

Patton carefully takes the empty mug from Remus’ grasp, trying not to wake him up. “So alcohol is just the way to calm him down?” He says, letting out a soft yelp when Remus grumbles and pulls the mug away from him, hugging it close. Patton frowns and leans back on the couch but not before grabbing two cookies from the snack platter.

“You know, it's already late and I already feel the spirit of Christmas welling up inside me. And by that, I mean vomit. Merry Christmas y'all, I'm gonna go bury myself in the comforts of my blankets.” Virgil suddenly says as he gets up from his usual place on the couch before sinking out, not letting anyone say a word.

Logan proceeds to check the time on his wristwatch. “Virgil is right, it is past twelve and my bedtime schedule. Merry Christmas everyone. Be sure to sleep well.” He says in a monotone, glancing at the rest of them. He then leaves as well, following right after Virgil.

“Aww geez, everyone's going to sleep now. I'm starting to feel eepy too. So sorry your party didn't go the way you wanted it to, Roman.” Patton apologizes with a small frown as he looks at the princely trait but Roman waves it off.

“It's quite alright, Patton, I am not easily upset at something so trivial.” He says casually, getting up from his spot on the couch and beginning to stretch his arms, hearing satisfying pops from his joints. “You go ahead and rest your adorable self, I'll deal with all the mess here.” Roman then added.

“Are you sure? I can help you—”

Roman immediately cuts Patton off before he can even continue his sentence, “Shush, Patton. I can handle this. You've been dozing off a lot, it's best for you to rest.”.

“Plus, I've still got a pump of adrenaline in me so I'm not that tired yet. I'm gonna spend all that leftover energy cleaning all of this.” He chuckles, trying to reassure the fatherly figure.

“Oh…if you say so. But don't forget to rest too. Merry Christmas, kiddo! I love you!” Patton exclaims before throwing himself on Roman, giving the other a tight, warm hug. Roman smiles fondly, hugging the other back. Eventually, Patton sinks out and returns to his room.

When Patton left, Roman immediately started his work. He cleaned all of the junk left in the living room, from the torn gift wrappers to the various cookie crumbs lying around. Roman resorted to carrying Remus onto the couch, Remus might not be the physically built one between them but God, was he heavy. 

He continued to clean the living room and even cleaned the kitchen as well, making sure there wasn't any mess left in the morning. After half an hour or so, he was finally done.

He makes a little nest out of pillows and blankets by the fireplace before situating himself in his creation. Even after all that cleaning, he still wasn't tired. And he couldn't think of anything to do. So why not look at fire instead?

Janus stumbles down from the stairs, drunk as fuck. He was planning to get some water but his eyes landed on something by the fireplace. Or more likely, someone.

“My my, what's our beloved prince doing here all by himself?”

Roman suddenly snaps his head back as soon as he hears that all too familiar sultry voice. His eyes narrow at the very presence of his archenemy. Janus was making his way towards him, while almost tripping on his own feet. He clearly was still not sober.

“What do you want, Janus? I'm not exactly in the mood to deal with you right now.” Roman groaned before turning back to the fireplace, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What? Am I not allowed to be in the living room? I just wanna get warm.” Janus huffs before plopping down beside the prince, causing the other's face to scrunch up more in frustration and annoyance. Roman scoots away from him and avoids meeting his gaze. He crosses his arms further, a big pout already forming on his lips. 

There was a big silence between them, and Roman liked it that way. Heck, he even forgot Janus was there beside him in the first place. Out of annoyance and trying to avoid the other, he got distracted by watching the fire slowly move and crackle in an intricately artistic dance. Not until Janus said the most out-of-pocket thing ever which ruined the vibe.

“You know, you could've done other things to warm me up than buy me socks.”

Those. Those were the very words that ruined his perfectly good vibes. Because what the actual fuck!?

“W-what? No!” Roman remarked quickly in sheer embarrassment, his whole face as red as his sash. Now why did Janus have to say that?!

Janus only tilted his head at him, staring at him innocently for a few minutes before letting out a sadistic cackle, making Roman turn red. “I'm just messing with you, Roman.”.

He then stops momentarily, batting his eyelashes at Roman as he bites his lips suggestively. “Unless you want to…”.

Roman's whole face immediately burned up like the fire in the fireplace. For some random reason, the way Janus was saying that in a low and sultry voice while biting his lip was absolutely sending him. Jesus Christ on a stick, it was not the right time to be a gay mess.

“How many bottles of wine have you drunk today?” Roman queries, gently gripping Janus' face as he tries to look for any sign of sobriety.

“Just a bit. Like, three or four bottles. I don't know, I forgot. Silly me.” Janus giggles, looking up at Roman with a drunken gaze, his whole face dusted in pink. Okay, but truth be told, he was quite cute when he was not up to something devious. Not that Roman would admit it.

“Geez, you're so drunk right now. You need to go back to your room and sleep.” Roman clicked his tongue before letting go of Janus, causing the other to slump forward against him.

The deceitful facet whined, clinging close to him. “I'm not drunk! I am very sober as you can see. Iz jus very very cold… hmm, you're warm.” he grumbled lowly, nuzzling close to Roman. The creative prince was having second thoughts if he should push Janus away or let him cuddle with him, he's still not on good terms with Janus after all and the latter was drunk.

“Even while drunk you still have the gall to lie.” Roman scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

“So warm… you are like a walking furnace. Very warm. I like warmth.” Janus babbled, not wanting to let go of Roman. The other could do nothing but grimace, having no choice but to let Janus cling to him like a koala bear.

“Not gonna lie, you're sorta cute when you're drunk. And pretty annoying too.” Roman commented, glancing at Janus for a moment.

“Awww, you think I'm cute AND pretty, Roman? Do you like meeee?”

The creative trait could feel his cheeks heat up at Janus' bold words. He tries to hide his blush by averting his gaze from Janus while his heart begins to ram against his ribcage.

“No way! I-I meant pretty annoying! Nothing else.” Roman exclaims in defense but Janus merely chuckles at him, clearly not convinced with his answer. And of course, Janus doesn't stop taunting him.

“Then why are you blushing?~” Janus teases as he reaches to grab Roman's face, urging the other to look at him. 

“I'm not!”

“You so are.”

Roman let out a frustrated groan and covered his face. Janus was going to be the death of him if he didn't stop teasing him. He wanted to rip out his hair and scream. Roman took back what he said, Janus was not cute when he was drunk, more like annoying.

“By the way, how did you know I'm cold-blooded? I never truly told anyone that.” Janus wonders, seemingly having calmed down from his amusement. Roman glances at him, slightly caught off guard by his question.

Roman thinks for a moment, he didn't think of the possibility that Janus might ask that question. When he got Janus for Secret Santa, his first plan was to give him something shitty like a passive-aggressive letter but he scrapped that because he might seem like too much of an asshole. So he went for something useful. He may or may not have done some research for Janus' gift.

“I just assumed because you're a snake and all,” Roman muttered, still refusing to look at Janus at the fear that the other would tease the crap out of him or if his heart would fully jump out of his chest. “They're not that special, just some pair of yellow socks.”.

“I like them though, they're yellow and keep my feet warm.” Janus hums happily before raising one of his feet up to show off his cool new socks, then wiggles his toes a bit just to fuck with Roman. The princely facet gave him a disgusted look but it quickly melted away into a hearty laugh.

“Didn't expect you'd wear them immediately. Thought you might throw it away because it does not match your ‘Disney Villain’-esque aesthetic.” Roman chuckles softly. Janus smiles at him, a sincere and genuine one at that.

Roman wanted to admit it, but Janus was growing on him. He had never seen this side of him before when he was sober. He was less villainy and scheme-y, although Janus still got that sass and all. Yet it was his first time seeing him smile so genuinely. It was a fresh sight to see.

Their eyes suddenly met for a moment, the both of them could feel a quick spark of electricity as soon as their gaze landed on each other. Roman could only watch as Janus slowly leaned closer toward him, almost climbing on his lap. 

They stare at each other intently, not knowing what will happen. Roman's gaze moved from Janus' eyes down to his lips, then back up, before gulping softly. There was a pregnant pause between them, but it was broken when Janus leaned forward, closing the gap between them.

Sparks fly as their lips collide in a kiss, likening it to a fireworks display. All the background noises seemed to quiet down behind them, only the loud thumps of their passionate hearts that seemed to jump out of their chests could be heard. Roman only stared at Janus in shock as he sat there, frozen. His brain was still processing what was happening. 

But before he could, Janus suddenly pulled away. 

“I love you…” He mutters against Roman's lips before moving away to rest his head on the prince’s shoulder.

Then it finally clicked to Roman. He snapped out of his trance and immediately reached to touch his lips with his fingers, trying to feel the bits of the presence of Janus' kiss as his whole face warmed up. Janus kissed him and confessed to him… Janus…kissed…him

.

.

.

.

.

.

JANUS KISSED HIM!

The realization dawned upon him like being hit with a ten-wheeler truck. Did this mean Janus liked him all this time?! No… no, that can't be the case, right? He was drunk. That cannot be true… right? But it did seem genuine.

He was about to question Janus when he realized the other had already fallen asleep while lying on his shoulder. Really? He just kissed Roman and gave him a dilemma then went to sleep!

Roman let out a groan, mentally slapping himself on the face. He did not want his Christmas to start with him overthinking about this. After a long while, he lets out a long sigh, choosing to accept his reality. Maybe Janus did like him. But does he like him back?

He glances at Janus once more, observing his features. Huh, his scales were interesting up close. They shine like emeralds. A small smile creeps up on Roman's lips while he watches Janus sleep peacefully, he really is stunning.

Janus suddenly shudders in his sleep, clinging more to Roman. The personification of creativity notices this and decides to pull the other closer, basically letting his archenemy cuddle him. Roman looks around for the blankets until he finds one, draping it around him and Janus, hoping that would shield them from the chilly breeze.

Roman then queries softly, “Still cold?”. 

Janus then unconsciously shakes his head as a response while he nuzzles the other. The creative facet chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around Janus to keep him warm.

He continues to observe the other for a few moments, watching as he softly breathes and snore. It was cute. This could be good blackmail material for Janus, but Roman wasn't exactly in the mood. All he wanted to do right now was admire him. Roman then whispers to him, pressing a gentle kiss on Janus’ forehead. 

“I love you too, Janus.”

-----------------------------------

Writing Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @extraintrovertedalien (please tell me if you want to be added or removed in the tag list)

[firewolf111]

Roman is sitting in his room, working on a project while reading comments. A shadowy figure creeps in the corner, watching and whispering insecurities, unnoticed, as it had been for a while. This time, it reveals itself.

???: Hello, Creativity.

Roman: *jumping up and turning to face the figure, sword summoned in his hand* Who are you?!

???: Oh my dear, who I am is unimportant. What matters is who you are.

Roman: What do you mean?

???: I mean that I've been... keeping an eye on you for a while now.

Roman: You've been stalking me?!

???: I guess that's one way you could refer to it, if you wish. I prefer... gathering information.

Roman: I'm pretty sure that's what stalking is.

???: The specifics are irrelevant. Much like you.

Roman: What?

???: Oh, you sweet little dear. Haven't you noticed. They don't need you, much less want you. You are worthless to them. To everyone, I'm afraid.

Roman: *sputtering* What?! No, I'm not.

???: Are you sure~

Roman: *opening and closing his mouth* I mean... surely...of course they...

???: You don't sound so sure of yourself. I think you know how little you are worth. You know the truth. Stop lying to yourself. You are nothing.

Roman: That's....That's not true!

???: Isn't it?

Roman: ...I...

???: Exactly. You are worthless. You are useless. You have no point of existing. Your existence is meaningless. You are nothing but a burden. Do them a favor, and leave.

???: *outstretches his hand* Let me take away your pain. Let me take it all away. They would be better without you anyway.

And Roman believes him. He's been telling himself the same things for a while. He was all that and more. He was a mistake.

He stretches out his arm, ready to take the mysterious figure's hand. He almost does, until a notification pops up on the screen beside him. It's a new comment that appears up at the top of the feed he was scrolling through. He gives it a brief glance before it immediately draws him in.

"This video was so well timed. I've been having a terrible week. I was really struggling. But then this video came out and I feel so much better. You always talk about serious topics in a lighthearted way that's so easy to understand and relate to. It has seriously helped me through some tough times. Thanks man, keep up the great videos. And props to Roman for the vid idea ;). Have a great day! <3"

It makes him freeze. Even though he knows the commenter meant it as a joke when they thanked him, made obvious by the winking face, it still was kinda true. It was his job to come up with video ideas. The very video ideas that helped the commenter out.

He stands and stares at the comment for a second before he pulls back his arm and tucks it at his side. He looks back at the figure.

Roman: You know, maybe you're right. Maybe I am all those things you've said. And maybe the others would be better without me. *He glances back at the screen.*

Roman: But if I can make a difference, even to one person, I think I can justify my existence.

[bitterpoison]

Chapter 2 of Logan goes on Strike is on ao3!

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

We Might Not Have A Tomorrow (Please Let Us Have a Tomorrow)

There was a prince from another kingdom that Roman’s parents wanted him to marry. He’d meet him at the Royal Ball in a days time, the same night they were to be engaged. Roman didn’t want to date - let alone marry - someone he didn’t even know. Not when he already had someone he loved right here.

----

| Ao3 |

----

Warnings: Fake blood, faked death.

Pairings: Prinxiety, Demus

Word Count: 4327

Notes:

Hi everyone!! This is my first piece for the @xts-reverse-bangx !! My partner for this fic was @its-the-cat-queen !! Go check out their awesome art with that link there! Trust me it's so beautiful <3

----

“Stay?” Roman asked, voice small and desperate as he clutched at Virgil’s hand as the knight went to walk away, “Please?”

An indiscernible look crossed Virgil’s face, something sad and strained as he stopped in his retreat, looking back at his Prince. For a moment Roman thought he really would come back. It was never that easy. 

“You know I can’t, your highness,” Virgil said softly, “We knew this wouldn’t last forever.”

“I know,” Roman said, still holding tightly to Virgil’s hand, “I know, just - one more night? Please?”

Virgil faltered, he could hardly resist the expression on Roman’s face, that sad look, “You are to be engaged, Roman,” Virgil said, “How many ‘one more night’s will you ask for?”

“You know I can’t answer that,” Roman said softly, looking up at him. 

“You’re highness-”

“Don’t call me that,” Roman said, bringing Virgil’s hand up to lay a kiss to his knuckles, “We’ve been through too much together for you to call me that, Virgil.”

“Roman,” Virgil corrected himself, “If this continues - I’m afraid we’ll get in more trouble than we can get out of.”

“I’m not engaged tonight,” Roman said, squeezing Virgil’s hand, “Please?”

In the end, Virgil knew he could never say no to him.

“Okay,” Virgil said softly, “Okay - but, really, this is the last time, okay Roman?”

“Right,” Roman said with a soft sigh, “The last time.”

Roman felt his stomach twist at the idea, but he still let Virgil’s hand go when he said he wanted to get out of his armour. He tried not to cry as he was left alone in his room, he knew Virgil would come back, he always did, Virgil had been there for him ever since he could remember.

“This isn’t fair,” Roman whispered to himself as he changed into softer sleep clothes. There was a prince from another kingdom that Roman’s parents wanted him to marry. He’d meet him at the Royal Ball tomorrow night, the same night they would be engaged. Roman didn’t want to date - let alone marry - someone he didn’t even know. Not when he already had someone he loved right here. 

When Virgil got back, Roman pulled him into a tight hug and Virgil ran his fingers through his hair twirling and ever so gently pulling at the long loose strands in the way that made Roman melt into the strong arms that carried him back to his bed, laying him down gently whilst his beloved knight climbed in after him. Turning, Roman buried his face in Virgil’s shoulder and wished he could stay here forever.

—

“Five more minutes,” Roman said softly, keeping his nose buried in Virigl’s shoulder as light from the sunrise streamed in from the open curtain at his bedside. Virgil’s hand rested at the small of his back, lightly gripping his clothes. His knight sighed, heavy breath ruffling Roman’s hair just a little. 

“You have to get up, Roman, we have responsibilities,” Virgil said sadly.

“What if we didn’t?” Roman asked, squeezing Virgil a little around the waist in hopes of getting him to stay a little longer, “What if we ran away together? We’d be able to stay like this forever, we wouldn’t have to be apart.”

“Oh, Princey,” Virgil said sadly, “You know it isn’t that easy.”

“But what if we could?” Roman said, “Would you want to?”

“...Of course I would,” Virgil said with another deep sigh, “I… I love you.”

“I love you too,” Roman said, voice soft and quiet.

“I’m sorry we can’t be together.” Virgil brushed his fingers through his long hair, untangling knots that had formed overnight, “I’m sorry things can’t be the way we want them.”

With a deep sigh, Roman sat up, pulling Virgil with him, “Will you help me get ready?” He asked. 

“Of course,” Virgil nodded, “So long as you help me too.”

“Always,” Roman said with a smile, cupping Virgil’s cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss. He would take every moment he could get before tonight. 

—-

The suit Roman wore felt tight in all the wrong places. The shimmery white material pulled at his thighs, forced his shoulders back, the collar choked his neck and the gloves he wore pinched the webbing between his fingers. It was a perfect fit, naturally, but still it felt suffocating. The gold glimmered, the jewellery set with rubies and rose quartz shone in the light, the crown atop his head sparkled. He looked beautiful, there was no doubt about it. 

“There you go,” Virgil said softly, patting down the suit jacket he was wearing, “You look amazing.”

“So do you,” Roman hummed, “Did you polish your armour?”

“Of course,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes, “Are you ready?”

“No,” Roman said, “What if he’s awful, Vee? What if I can’t stand him?”

Virgil sighed, “Well, hey,” he said, “I’ll still be here - you know we can’t… but I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m still your guard.”

“I wish we could keep being more than that.”

“Wishing for things we can’t have will only cause us more heartache, my love,” Virgil sighed, cupping Roman’s face. Roman gave a soft, sad smile before pulling him in for one last kiss. 

—

The only thing keeping Roman from flying apart into a million pieces right now was Virgil's strong and sturdy presence behind him. 

Filled with people, the ballroom buzzed with an energy that settled on Roman’s skin and made him feel nervous. He could see handfuls of royals and nobles dotted about the room, he had no clue who or which one he was going to be getting engaged to tonight.

His presence was announced as he descended the stairs and heads turned. Everyone knew what they were here for tonight. Even his younger twin brother was already there despite being renowned for his lack of punctuality, it was like Roman was the last to arrive despite him being right on time. 

As it turned out, though, he wasn’t the last, because shortly after him, another prince was announced. The Prince came from a kingdom not far, but not exactly close either. It was a kingdom Roman hardly knew anything about. Their royalty was elusive and secretive and their Princes the most of all. Roman had never even seen this man before, in his fancy cloak and big feathered hat that covered most of his face. Roman shivered - he had such an… oppressive presence, almost scary. Roman really hoped it wasn’t him.

It was him. 

Not even twenty minutes later his mother approached him with the mysterious prince in tow and Roman’s heart dropped. 

“Good evening,” Roman greeted with a polite bow. The other Prince gave a nod and returned the bow. 

“Prince Janus, this is my son,” His mother said, gesturing to Roman, “Roman, this is Prince Janus, from the kingdom of Nathair.”

“It’s good meeting you,” Roman said stiffly, holding out a hand for a polite handshake that was returned swiftly. 

“You as well,” Janus spoke for the first time, dropping Roman’s hand quickly, “It is a pleasure.”

Roman noticed at that moment that Janus seemed a little distracted by something behind him, but Roman didn’t have the time to dwell on that right now.

The conversation moved on to how they were to be married, the announcement of their betrothal would happen later this evening. The royalty from both of their kingdoms had agreed to give them this time to get to know each other before they were swamped with the other guests attempting to talk to them. 

That was how Roman found himself standing with Janus on the balcony that overlooked the ballroom. It wasn’t so crowded up here and Janus had brought him up here so that they could talk in peace. Aside from their guards of course, they were completely alone up here. 

For a while neither spoke. Roman leaned on the railing and placed his chin in his hand. He was sure he looked awfully glum, but he couldn’t bring himself to force a smile. Janus must have noticed, because eventually he hummed. 

"Dearest betrothed,” Janus started. Roman winced - normally he would’ve been able to control such a reaction, but right now he was struggling, “I’ve come to assume your feelings on the situation we're in happen to be similar to mine." 

"That depends darling,” Roman said, the nickname tasted rotten on his tongue, “Do you happen to loathe the way we were set up with no way out?"

Janus laughed, “I wouldn’t have worded it so colourfully, but this situation is certainly unfavourable, I’m glad you agree.”

“I don’t know how they can expect us to marry someone we hardly even know,” Roman sighed, shaking his head, “I understand the political gain - our kingdom and yours would make a wonderful alliance but… I don’t even know you.”

Janus nodded, “I quite agree, though you do not upset me as much as I expected you might… I do have my eye on another.”

The last part was a whisper, Roman’s eyes widened.

“Oh really?” He said, raising an eyebrow with a small grin, he glanced back at Virgil - who’s expression almost made Roman laugh, he clearly was just waiting for Roman to do something stupid, “Well - if we’re stuck together for now, the least we could do is engage in a little gossip - will you tell me who it is?”

Janus hummed, swirling his finger in the ballroom, “I’ll let you guess,” he hummed.

“May I ask questions?” Roman asked, tilting his head.

“Hm… you may have three.”

Roman smiled, “Hm, okay, are they here tonight?”

“Indeed,” Janus nodded.

“Do I know them?”

“Very well,” Janus nodded again.

Roman glanced around the room, eyes lingering on everyone he knew especially well, he assumed that meant they were from his kingdom…

“Are they royalty?”

“A yes once again,” Janus grinned, though his eyes were fixed on one spot. Roman followed his eyes to where his own brother was standing near the buffet table, no doubt stealing a heap of food. Roman almost burst out laughing.

“You like my brother?” Roman asked, before being shushed. Roman did feel a little bad about being so loud, “...Really?”

“Well,” Janus said, “Of course I couldn’t know for certain - but I’ve seen him around the ballroom and he seems quite endearing, I’d like to get to know him at least.”

“Well..” Roman says, frowning, “If you’re supposed to be marrying me you’ll have plenty of time to do so, we are brothers after all.”

“And what about you?” Janus asked.

“What about me?” Roman asked.

“I’m not attracted to you - I’m sure I’ve made that quite clear - but I still would feel bad leaving you for your brother when I’m supposed to be your fiance.”

Roman rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry about it - I…” he glanced back over at Virgil, who frowned but shrugged, “I already have someone, anyway.”

“Oh?” Janus hummed, turning to him with a small smirk, “What a scandal, Prince Roman! Who might that be? I told you mine.”

Roman smiled, before glancing over at Virgil again, more obviously this time. Virgil gave a small, awkward little wave when Janus followed his gaze. Janus’ eyes widened.

“Your guard?” He asked in a whisper, Roman nodded, “A secret relationship! Well I am one for a good drama.”

Roman smiles a little, “Well - I suppose you will get some, if you wish to pursue my brother.”

“Will he not be upset?” Janus asked, a little astounded.

“Upset by what? You being my fiance?” Roman asked, “If we’re not interested in each other I don’t think he’ll care less.”

Janus frowned - it was a thinking type frown, not an upset type frown, which Roman was grateful for - and they fell into a somewhat comfortable silence.

Eventually, Roman’s mother stood from her throne to make the announcement and Roman and Janus had to return to the ball hand in hand. Roman somehow felt that he could breathe just a little easier after their talk, he couldn’t help but sneak glances at Virgil, a newly hopeful feeling in his heart. 

If Janus wanted to pursue Remus, then maybe he wouldn’t be upset if Roman wanted to stay with Virgil. 

They would have to talk about it, Roman knew that, but he was hopeful that this may not end as painfully as he thought it would.

—- 

Once the ball was done, Roman pulled Virgil into a tight hug. Neither of them let go for a whole five minutes, but eventually Virgil gently detached himself. 

“That was really dangerous, Ro,” Virgil said softly. Janus was staying in the palace - their wedding would take place in a week and they had that time to really get to know each other.

“He told me he liked my brother first,” Roman huffed, “And it ended well, so what’s the harm? Especially if it means I can still have you.”

“But what if he was tricking you!” Virgil said, gripping Roman’s arms, “This is Janus - he has a reputation for deceit! I wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get to you!”

“Virgil,” Roman said softly, “I saw the way he looked at Remus - he was so distracted the whole time, that sort of thing can’t be faked - I just - this could be our chance, love, if he’s willing to let me have you -”

“Roman,” Virgil said softly, cupping Roman’s face, “Look - I’m hopeful too, okay? I know you want this to work but just - please don’t get your hopes up too high, okay? You’ll just - I don’t want to see you even more heartbroken.”

Sighing softly, Roman nodded, “I won't,” he said, “But - but I’ll do my best to make this work.”

—-

They got Remus involved. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to do so immediately. Roman knew better than anyone how volatile Remus could be, but Janus had apparently sought him out the day after the ball, and now the three royals were sitting around a low table with tea and afternoon cakes to talk.

“So…” Remus said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over them the longer they had sat there, “Lemme try and understand what the fuck the situation here is.”

He stood up, holding his teacup - which Roman was not sure actually contained tea - and began to pace. Roman raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with Janus, who only looked fond.

“You two are engaged,” Remus said, “But Janny likes me and Roro likes Virgil, and you two are coming to me because….?”

Roman shrugged, he had no idea.

“Well - of course, you found out about my feelings this morning,” Janus said, rolling his eyes, Remus nodded, “So I thought that perhaps you would be able to help with this… situation.”

“Well,” Remus said, taking a sip of not-tea before putting a hand on his hip, clearly he had an idea, “If RoRo went missing, then they’d probably try marry you to me instead to keep the political alliance, right?”

Roman frowns, “But then you’ll end up being King, Ree, you’ve always hated the idea, and we wouldn’t be able to see each other.”

“You think I can’t sneak out of the castle to come visit you and your boytoy guard?” Remus huffed, “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to run off and live in the woods with him.”

Roman couldn’t exactly argue with that, it was true after all. Running away with Virgil was something they had talked about time and time again.

“And the first point?” Roman asked instead of trying to argue.

“Well being king would stink but I’d have Janny.”

“I would be happy to rule your kingdom if it meant everyone would get their happy ending,” Janus said with a small smile. Roman looked at the two of them.

“So… you two really do like each other?” Roman asked, tilting his head.

“Who knows!” Remus said, walking over to sling his arm around Janus’ shoulders, almost spilling his tea, “Guess we’ll find out!”

Roman made a face, “You’d risk ending up not liking him for me?”

“Well,” Remus said, “Look at it this way: you get what you’ve wanted for like years, I get to try out dating this cutie and even if it doesn’t work we can just be besties and it’ll still be great, everyone’s happy either way.”

“Indeed,” Janus nods, “Even if it turns out we do not enjoy each other romantically, I still think I would value Remus as a good friend - And I would enjoy running a kingdom with him - I would not have gotten to do so in my own kingdom after all.”

Roman nodded slowly, “Okay - um - if we’re going to discuss this plan further, could we bring Virgil in?”

“Course,” Remus shrugged, “Go get your boy-toy RoRo.”

—-

The plan was strangely simple. 

Roman was supposed to fake his death. The night before the wedding, with Remus’ help, they were going to stage a murder scene. Roman would escape with Virgil and the palace and kingdom would think he had died. They’d make it look like an outside attempt - an assassination. 

On top of that, Remus planned to set Janus up too, have him be present for Roman’s ‘murder’ so that he could verify the story and help to convince them that it was true whilst also proving his innocence - if Janus barely made it out then he couldn’t possibly be at fault for the murder after all.

It was the perfect plan. Roman wasn’t exactly enjoying it as he packed up a bag - only the essentials, and stuff that would reasonably be stolen. Having fake blood smeared across his bedsheets and floor made him feel queasy and disgusting. Honestly he was just glad he wasn’t Janus, who was having the stuff smeared across his clothes and face. 

“It’s weirdly artistic,” Virgil said as he appeared at Roman’s side, scrunching up his face all the while, “In a really gross way.”

Roman made a face back, “You can say that again.”

“Hey RoRo!” Remus said, bounding over, “How's it going?”

“We’ve got our stuff,” Roman said, shrugging his bag onto his back. Virgil had already done the same, “And this looks like a murder scene.”

“Great! That’s what we’re going for! You think it’s believable or do we need more blood?”

“As long as Prince Snakeface over there can do his job then I think we’re good,” Virgil said. Janus glared at him though it was light hearted.

“Of course I can do my job,” he rolled his eyes, “Playing a damsel in distress has never been awfully hard, I act as though I’m grieving for a lost lover and find solace in his grieving brother, from there we grow a connection and the Queen will marry us instead, it’s practically foolproof as long as you two can get out without being spotted.”

“Speaking of,” Remus said, “Here, put these on, you’ll need ‘em.”

Two cloaks were tossed to Roman and Virgil respectively. Roman nodded and put his on quickly, though Virgil took a second longer.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked quietly to Roman, who took his hands.

“We’ve talked through this plan a thousand times,” he said, “We can do it.”

“But if they don’t believe us - and we don’t know how to run a homestead by ourselves-”

“Vee,” Roman said softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his beloved’s cheek, “We have more than enough gold and jewels to get ourselves a house and plenty of supplies, we can buy books and seeds and food and we can figure it out, okay?”

“And if it doesn’t work you’ll still have us to help!” Remus said brightly, Roman smiled.

“We’ll be sure to send word once we’re out safely,” Roman said, before going over to give his brother a final hug. Remus wrapped him up so tightly he could barely breathe, but both of them pulled away with a smile on their faces. 

“Go live the life you want, dumbass,” Remus said, slapping Roman on the shoulder. 

“Thank you for everything,” Roman said to Janus, who gave a small nod and a smile in response, “No really - you had no obligation to do any of this for any of us - I still barely know you - but I’d consider you a great friend for this.”

Janus smiled a much more real smile at that, “I would consider you a good friend as well, I’m grateful to have you as a brother in law rather than a fiance.”

Roman laughed and nodded, “You as well, I think this will be much better for all of us.”

“Indeed,” Janus nodded, “Now, cut the sap, we need to get this done before someone comes in here and sees this mess.”

“Right,” Roman said with a laugh. Remus nodded quickly.

“Yes, yes, you two gotta go,” Remus said, “Make sure you don’t get seen, I’m gonna go as well - a different way, I’ll head back to my chambers from the library. Janny, you wait at least half an hour until you make a fuss, ‘kay?”

After murmurs of agreement all around, the plan was set into motion.

Once Janus raised the alarm, the palace and surrounding kingdom would be swarming with guards looking for the non-existent assassin, so Roman and Virgil had to hurry. Hand in hand the two of them rushed through servants' passages and down staircases. The palace was quieter at night, thank goodness. Less people hurrying about meant less chance at being spotted. 

Before long they had made it out, the two of them were almost giddy as they bounded through the surrounding city. The plan was to get out of the city by morning and head for one of the surrounding towns where hopefully they could buy a pair of horses. They would have to travel further out from the capital whilst the hunt for the assassin took place, the further out they got the safer they would be, but eventually they planned to settle in the forests a day's ride from the palace. 

Half a night’s walk got them to a nearby town where they were able to rent out a room once the sun had risen, not wanting to draw attention to themselves by appearing in the early hours. 

By the time they had gotten settled and bought some basic supplies, word had begun to travel of the Prince’s death by raven. It wouldn’t be safe to send a message to Remus yet. For now they would have to lie low.

Virgil had suggested that they cut Roman’s long hair in order to conceal his identity. Roman’s face was recognisable and his hair even moreso. At first the idea had upset him, but Virgil promised he could grow it back and Roman knew it would be for the better. No-one would be looking for a dead prince, but someone who looked exactly like him would surely catch attention. 

—

A week passed and slowly the buzz began to die down. A funeral was held, a big ceremony involving all the capital city. Many people went, Virgil and Roman were not among them. Janus and Remus were at the front of the procession, right behind the current King and Queen. 

The kingdom mourned for weeks, but still things moved on. Roman sent a letter to Remus telling him of their safety and journey so far. They travelled back up towards the capital and found a carpenter and stonemason willing to assist in building them a new home out in the forest. 

A month later a new wedding announcement was made. Janus and Remus were to be wed the next week and the whole kingdom would turn out for it. Of course Roman and Virgil would be there. Roman wouldn’t miss his brother’s wedding for the world.

—-

Life was good, for Roman. 

He never imagined he could live a life like this as he drew water up from the well behind their new house, using half of the water bucket to feed the garden he and Virgil had been cultivating together over the last three months. Some of the things they were growing had started to get big, some of the plants even showing signs of fruit and vegetables getting ready to harvest. Roman was proud of how far they had come.

“Oh Virgil!” Roman sang as he walked into the house, wiping off his boots and setting the now half full bucket down on the table, “I’ve brought the water for the soup!”

Virgil appeared through the archway that led into their kitchen with a smile, “Thanks Ro,” he said, kissing Roman’s cheek and making him blush. The easy shows of attention were something he thought he would never truly get used to. No-one was here to catch them out or punish them for behaving improperly. 

“You’re welcome of course,” Roman chuckled, “What are you making?”

“Just a simple vegetable soup with stuff from the market this morning,” Virgil said, smiling, “Hopefully it’ll be good, I got a good deal.”

“Yeah?” I’m sure it’ll be great, your cooking always is,” Roman laughed - they had learned quite quickly that Roman couldn’t cook if his life depended on it, his first attempt had resulted in the near destruction of their new house, Virgil had done all of the cooking from now on.

“Well good, because Remus and Janus are coming tonight, remember?”

“How could I forget? I’ve been excited all week,” Roman said, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s waist. Virgil leant into him, smiling.

“Hopefully the soup will be done in time,” Virgil said with a small chuckle.

“Im sure it will be,” Roman said, resting his chin on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Well it’ll be done a lot faster if you let me go and work on it, love,” Virgil laughed, “I have to boil this water hon, come on.”

Roman laughed and let him go. Yeah, he was happy with this. 

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[fandombead]

The Dancer

Hello!! This is my submission for Prinxiety Shipweek's prompt: Music.

Summary: Virgil is the small (like– 5'' tall) 16-year-old son of a woodcarver who crafts him a little dancer friend out of special wood he got from one of their regular clients. Imagine Virgil’s shock when the figure, his size, comes to life in the nighttime. (note: Fairy Tale-ish AU!)

WC: ~4.8k || It's on AO3!

@prinxietyweek !

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Music

Virgil stepped down and wandered out of his space in the walls onto his dad’s desk, trying to get a peek at the man’s latest project. 

Patton was extremely skilled at his craft, to the point he was renowned in all the land for his detailed, “impossible” works. He had learned from a great teacher and put in the work to always remember the lessons. It wasn't a miraculous talent he was born with, but a skill he cultivated. He liked to say he gave a piece of something he loved to all his precious creations. 

Virgil didn’t think much of it, but he was lucky. His dad often made everything he needed from scratch or tinkered out of something he thought would be useful, and it always surprised him how crafty and resourceful his dad was even when he wasn’t carving oak and cedar. 

Right now, Patton was bent in a way that surely would hurt when he finally got up, intently focused on his latest secret project that had captured Virgil’s nosey attentions entirely. It wasn’t near his birthday; that had passed a few months ago and he had gotten a new Violin (and it was incredible how good it managed to sound. Even better than the first model Virgil had learned to play with).

But Patton had been hiding this from him for weeks, and it was driving Virgil crazy. As it was, Patton knew where all his perches for looking out at the shop and people watching were, and had been very good at keeping the new…whatever it was out of sight.

Virgil had caught glimpses: Patton had chosen a rather expensive-looking hardwood that Virgil didn’t even recognize as any used before, which meant it either was for a top-paying commissioner or one of Patton’s major passion projects that would require a lot of detailing. He’d also ordered an odd mechanical base from Logan: the clockmaker several shops over who he often collaborated with. Having a custom part or apparatus from him wasn’t unusual, but the secrecy had Virgil more invested than he’d otherwise be. 

He tried to interrogate Logan from the counter when he’d dropped the boxed mystery device off a few days ago, but the man had simply smiled and told him to be patient and he’d surely get to see it soon. Virgil did not like that answer. It only kept him awake at night and more curious.

Virgil peeked out from Patton’s old design books on the desk, trying to see what his dad’s arm was blocking. There were interesting scraps of sparkly and sheer fabric littering the table and he could at least see that Patton was holding a paintbrush in his left hand, tongue out in concentration.

As Virgil tried to see, however, Patton cracked a knowing smile. “Heya, kiddo. Can’t help but want to peek, hmm?” Virgil ducked back behind the books guiltily before shuffling out at being caught. Patton set the brush down. “Well, it’s alright. I was actually just finishing the detail on this, he’s nearly done. I was going to introduce you at breakfast, but I think now is much more interesting.”

Virgil gave his dad a confused look. “‘He’?” 

Patton just grinned and told him to turn around for a moment which Virgil complied and did. Whatever just to get to finally see this…whatever it was Patton had created.

Virgil heard Patton shuffling and setting things down, then the light tap tap tap of his small mallet.

Something was set down again, closer behind Virgil and Patton finally let him turn to see.

Patton held an ornate little red box in the moonlight coming in from the window behind them. On top, poised gracefully on one pointed foot  was a figure of a beautiful dancer, with chestnut brown hair in waves that looked more soft than carved and a just as soft smile on a kind face. He looked similar to the dancer in the ballet Patton had taken him to last winter, in a shimmering long-sleeved shirt and embroidered gold vest. 

The figure in his hand was posed in a dance, as if captured right as he reached out his hand to a partner, waiting. His other leg was carefully positioned behind him, pointed rigidly. If not for his base, he’d probably be close to Virgil’s height. Virgil looked at the creation as he circled it in awe. Patton sat back and wiped the polish and paint from his hands, chuckling proudly. “So, whatcha think, Virgie? He’s pretty nice, yeah?” Virgil’s eyes were wide as he looked back at Patton, near sparkling. “How did you even make this?? It’s so– I’ve never seen you make anything this elaborate before.”

“Well, I was gifted a very rare and simply elegant block of wood from one of our regular clients, Sir Fraus. He says he got it during his travels but didn’t say what kind it was. Only that it was in thanks and that he thought I’d know what to make with something this rare. So, I figured that I should make something just as special. I'm excited to show him the next time he stops by. He’s got joints to be posable and everything– and just wait until you see this.” Patton reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a small gold key. Virgil watched, walking around to see as Patton stuck the small key into the back of the box and it clicked in. He turned it a few times, winding it up and then let go. The dancer began to slowly spin on his toe, the metal base he was attached to rotating.  

Virgil watched as the shimmery sleeves of his outfit caught the moonlight, unable to look away. Patton smiled, also admiring the dancer spun, dancing to an unheard tune as his arm that wasn’t poised moved up and down as he spun. 

“I’m only a bit disappointed I couldn’t add music to the box, but Logan didn’t have a comb the right size or the cylinder for the song I was hoping for anyway. Perhaps one day I can get one custom-made.” Virgil tilted his head as he watched, sitting next to Patton to watch as the figure slowed to a stop, arm down in rest again. 

“Did you…name him?” Virgil asked as Patton reached around his son to wind it up again.

“You know, it’s funny you mention that. I went to the nice woman who sells fabrics from her home in The Den– you know, that little shop district across town? She made the costumes for the play we saw. Anyway, I was explaining to her what I needed and asked for any outfit suggestions and somehow we got onto the topic of names being important for creations like this. She gave me a few, but I ended up liking one the most: ‘Roman’. What do you think?”

Virgil had to admit that was very fitting for the regal dancer. He liked it. “Roman,” he repeated, nodding in approval with a tiny smile he hid in his arm as they watched him spin again. “Suits him.” “I’d say his clothing suits him too.” Patton grinned and Virgil groaned, laying his head in his arms. “Baaad, that one was awful.”

Patton laughed, ruffling Virgil’s hair with a fingertip and a wide smile. 

“Hahaha, I bet Roman likes my puns!”

Virgil made a noise of doubt as Patton turned and looked at his colorful clock on the wall. “Ah, I stayed up far later than I meant to. You’re welcome to stay out here if you want, but I gotta get to bed. Early day tomorrow, as usual.” he hummed, standing. Virgil watched him and gave Patton’s hand a brief hug when it swept up to ‘hug’ him goodnight. “Don’t stay up too late, Virge.”

Virgil gave Patton a vague wave of his hand in acknowledgment, not taking his eyes off the dancer.

Patton made sure the shop was locked up and then left to his room in their home above the shop.

Virgil sat alone, going back to wind the box when it stopped. He really did think it’d be nice to see Roman dance to music. And then he realized that it was something he could provide.

Virgil got up and ran off to his room in the walls. There was his little workshop space Patton had carved out and covered for his privacy, with a little balcony, but he ended up having to go all the way back up to his bedroom adjacent to Patton’s. He could see Patton brushing his teeth out of his balcony but didn’t stop to chat as he grabbed his black violin case from the corner by his shelf bed. Then he was immediately headed back down. He jogged out onto the worktable again, his instrument case already open as he set it down.

Virgil spun the key as far as he could, which was admittedly difficult after 5 turns, but he used all his strength to get the coil as tight as he could. Then he picked up the violet violin and started to play the first song that his hands picked: one that he’d learned by ear from the record Patton liked to play in the shop the most. 

They’d heard this one at the ballet and it felt fitting for the dancer still diligently posed on one foot. 

The pretty tune filled the air around him and Virgil smiled as it looked like the dancer was moving to it with the one arm that shifted as he spun. He could almost imagine he really was playing musician for this dancer, Roman. His vest twinkled in the gentle moonlight, and it was mesmerizing as it created a shimmer around him. Virgil was so lost in the music and gazing at the stunning figure that he did not notice the soft click of the key stopping.

He finished the song out, the lilting drawn-out end fading gradually, and the dancer stopped turning with his arm down in rest. Virgil was smiling, proud, and a bit sheepish that he’d even done it. But it was nice.

And then the carve dancer blinked, and Virgil gasped, nearly dropping his violin. He froze, staring as the dancer’s pretty dark eyes seemed to focus on him. Then it moved again, head tilted curiously. Virgil dove behind the toolkit holding Patton’s chisels, the nearest thing. 

Virgil stared in awe as the figure twisted around curiously, gazing around the shop and tentatively looking over to where Virgil hid. He tried to get down, stumbling as he pulled his foot free and nearly fell off the box entirely, much to Virgil’s anxiety spike as he gasped. Thankfully he caught himself on the edge with his hands and was able to carefully sit and hop down.

The figure was alive…alive?! Enchanted?? He didn’t think Patton knew that, surely! He would have shown him– or at least mentioned it so that his anxious son wouldn’t freak out. Was he even awake right now? The wooden man danced a little about the table, wobbly for a few steps before getting used to moving rather quickly and happy about it. 

That was a wooden person smiling over at him. Virgil scrambled back, startled. “How—how are you moving right now?! My dad carved you out of a hunk of wood!!”

The possibly possessed wooden figure blinked at him— despite Patton having never created eyelids with which to do so— hands clasping in front of himself as he stood and appeared to be listening, and even just standing there he looked like he was posed perfectly to begin dancing.

Virgil was a little unnerved that he just kept staring but his eyes were curious rather than judging or belittling like a lot of people’s tended to be when meeting him. Though their being nearly the same tiny height probably made that observation moot.

And he was the first person Roman(?) had properly met. 

Virgil didn’t know what he was waiting for but the other suddenly spared him from needing to figure it out by hurrying off to some unknown goal.

Virgil jolted at the sudden movement, scrambling up to see where the man—figure— Roman was going.

Roman popped out from behind the bookend, nearly giving Virgil a heart attack. Though before Virgil could properly decide if he was running for the wall door, Roman held up what he’d retrieved, out to Virgil with an eager look.

He had Virgil’s violin and bow, carefully held out in offering. Virgil blinked dumbly as he slowly took it.

Roman bounced on the balls of his feet a little before splaying his arms out, standing on the tips of his toes again. He was looking expectantly at Virgil and the nervous teen clutched the instrument as he realized. 

Virgil lifted the violin to tuck under his chin, mind reeling for what to play. He watched Roman stand straighter still and send a dashing smile his way, and suddenly Virgil found it easier just to let the melody that felt right flow. They both anticipated the start of the music as Virgil played the first clear note. His hands did the rest on their own, skillfully guiding the bow along the strings.

And Roman…Virgil had no idea how he knew to dance in such a way. He danced like a man finally free of rigid demands, and it was more enchanting than the beautifully poised expectation of the dancer frozen in place on a spinning point. Despite the freedom to move, Roman seemed to enjoy the little fast turns and twirls, and he spotted Virgil to keep from growing dizzy. It was impressive and alluring, the thin ruffly tule at the bottom of his shirt waving around his waist even as he stopped, catching himself gracefully with a flourish.

This was a man unrestricted, flowing in sync to the timeless music like he’d practiced it a hundred times and now had his opening night performance. His vest glittered stunningly as he moved with more grace and freedom than a person made of wood should have been able to. But it was natural for him. Roman moved across the table elegantly, the resonating sounds working with him as he reached toward the streaming moonlight like it was where their unseen audience might be. Then he was stretching into a near bow as he stepped back, going into tight spins as he twirled away, arms tucked in.

Virgil was in awe, turning to keep the dancer in sight as he played his violin for him. Roman beamed in his exuberance for just a moment before tamping the pure joy to focus again. The smile never fully left.

The dance and song sped up in tandem, and Roman swept around Virgil close enough to reach out and take his hand. Virgil was captivated and almost stuttered to a stop as Roman used his shoulder as a support, hand barely applying weight as Roman leaned in with dazzling bright eyes. It was a long gaze and yet just as quickly as he’d appeared at Virgil’s side, Roman was flitting away as if carried off by the drifting tune as the song peaked. 

As the song finished, both Roman and Virgil stepped into their final poses, Roman’s not dissimilar to the one he took on the stand, with pointed feet and one arm curved high above his head. Both seemed breathless in their own way, watching one another as they stood still, just taking it in. Virgil moved first, lowering his arms and letting a little grin spread on his face despite himself. “That was amazing!! How do you know how to dance??? It’s like you just knew??” Roman let himself down from the pose, the bright smile back as he padded over to Virgil. He laid his hands over Virgil’s bow hand and bounced happily, trying to convey his own excitement. Up close, Virgil could definitely still see the wooden body that made up the dancer, and the little joints that allowed him to pose freely were visible through his sheer long sleeves. Virgil held his violin to his chest, looking at him in wonder. “Incredible…so..you’re Roman, right? Is that actually your name?” Roman tilted his head and then nodded happily. 

“Really? Because I doubt my dad’s just guessed that out of the thousands of names, right?”

Roman pointed to the stairs that led up to the living area of their home then back at himself. Virgil looked a little confused. “I’m guessing you can’t talk, since…no voice box?” 

Roman stilled a bit but nodded once more, unbothered by this but acknowledging it. 

“Oh…well, it’s nice to meet you, Roman. You’re an incredible dancer,” he stated, looking away sheepishly and couldn’t believe he was embarrassed right now to be talking to a magical doll person. 

Roman perked up at that though and insistently tapped Virgil’s hand, nodding hard as he pointed at Virgil. He clapped happily and Virgil’s face flushed. “I-I’m still learning, but thank–thank you– do you– uh, need to rest? Sit down?”

Roman shrugged but tugged Virgil’s hand as he walked to sit down by the red box he belonged to. Virgil went willingly, sitting beside Roman who tucked his legs to the side, probably limited in how he could move this way.

They were able to see the moon and stars through the window across the room. 

“Are you cursed?” Virgil suddenly asked without thinking and winced as soon as it left his mouth. 

He glanced at Roman, who very much seemed to be chuckling at him, even as no sound came out. Ro shook his head. Virgil relaxed a little. 

“Oh, good– so just a magical creation? Are you…aware…of things? Like when you were frozen earlier?”

Roman looked thoughtful, then reached around Virgil to point at the key in the box.

Virgil tried very hard not to blush at the closeness as Roman peered at him and then the key insistently. 

“T-The key? Okay, you–you know about the key??”

Roman frowned, then mimed turning it and dramatically opening his eyes. He pointed to his ears and the violin. Virgil’s tired mind raced.

“...you– you’re aware when your key is turned? The music does it? O-Or, like– you can see and hear and things…?” he tried.

Roman smiled and pulled away, nodding. Virgil wasn’t sure exactly what he got right, but he was pretty sure Roman could see and hear whenever the key was turned. He started to worry. “And when the key isn’t turned?? You aren’t–aware of that too, right?” Roman put out his hands and shook his head gently. He seemed to search for the right thing to attempt to communicate before he mimicked sleeping.

Virgil relaxed as he seemed to finally understand. “Oh. Okay, it’s like you’re not awake, then? …How do you even know what sleeping is.”

Roman just smiled and shrugged, but the look he was giving him led Virgil to think that was not all.

Virgil talked for what became hours with Roman. He ended up showing him around the shop using his bridges and walkways along the walls, holding his hand as they went. Roman seemed perfectly happy to listen, and he’d point and get Virgil’s attention when he wanted to know what something was. 

Virgil played him another song when Roman silently requested such. He had no idea how the night was over so soon. They were back on Patton’s worktable and Roman was standing by his box, trying to convey to Virgil that he had to go back. 

Virgil was disheartened as he watched. “Can I see you again soon? I’m sure Dad would love to meet you, and maybe then you won’t have to go back on that thing.”

Roman turned back to Virgil, interest peaked. He gave Virgil a soft look and hugged him, gentle and earnest as he tried to convey what he felt. Virgil was very still as he cautiously settled his arms around Roman’s back. 

Roman pulled away too soon, and Virgil let him go. Virgil watched as he settled his foot back on the support, and posed as he had been, confident and with a professional ease. Virgil didn’t know for certain when, but between one blink and the next, Roman was once again just a figure on the musicless box.

He would figure out what he had to do to see him again.

—-

The next morning, Virgil tried to show Patton when he woke up. He played part of a song from Swan Lake and watched, but Roman did not shift from his spot, much to Virgil’s confusion. Patton enjoyed his son playing, though seemed a little confused about what he was supposed to see. “That was lovely, kiddo! It really is lovely to watch him spin to music.”

But Virgil just sighed, shaking his head. “No, he– last night– he was dancing! To my music, and smiling, and…and…” his face grew hotter as Patton was smiling at him, hands clasped and Virgil quickly looked away. 

“I’m really happy you like him, Virgie! Maybe it’s a good thing we never found the music for his box. You playing whatever you want is a wonderful idea.” 

Virgil was dejected. Did it only happen once? Had he truly dreamed it? No, he had seen it, felt Roman’s cool hand in his. Was he shy to come out in front of his dad? But Roman had seemed genuinely eager to say hello when Virgil mentioned them meeting. Maybe it was just conditional? Roman wouldn’t likely know– he’d just been just as surprised as Virgil when it had happened the first time.

He brainstormed about this in his room most of the day, coming out occasionally to help Patton around the shop– he was very good at moving small things about and getting them for his dad, as well as ringing up customers– and to eat.

That night, Virgil went down to the shop after dinner. Violin in hand, he turned the key fewer times than before and started to play a pretty, upbeat tune. The wooden dancer spun stiffly, but as the song neared its end, the arm became less rigid as it lifted with more grace. The smile etched in place became wider still and Roman shifted, lifting his foot higher then back down as he bowed. 

Virgil grinned, stopping as Roman found him on the table nearby and waved. Virgil quickly pulls himself up onto the base. “Roman! You’re still here,” he breathed, and Roman gave him a bright look and eager nod.

Virgil offered his hands. “Here, let me help this time.” Roman gratefully took the help, holding Virgil’s shoulders as he carefully lifted his foot free of the metal stand. Virgil helped and was shocked at how easy it was to lift him for support. He wasn’t as dense as a flesh and blood being, and Virgil didn’t know what to do with the fact that he could easily hold Roman over his head if he wanted to. He let go of his waist before he got any more silly thoughts and hopped down from the box. He offered Roman his hands and Roman took them to get down easily as well, hopping with a grace he apparently always possessed.

It was another night of strolling around the shop and performing for one another as music filled the air. They ended up on the railed windowsill beside the door. Roman somehow made him feel like he was a part of the dance despite Virgil being his musician, dancing captivatingly around him. Even as the song ended, Roman danced in the silence, and the music was in his head as he enticed Virgil to join him. Virgil nervously set his violin down and couldn’t refuse that beautiful smile as Roman took his hands and danced with him. 

Virgil honestly felt like it was only Roman’s skill that kept them from tripping over each other. He certainly didn’t know how he’d become the lead in this soundless song that they both knew the steps for. But he twirled Roman easily and guided him into dips that he’d seen dance partners do on the stage. It was relaxed and free of any real form, but they were miraculously in sync together.

He got bolder and confident with the trust Roman put in him, and how had he ever earned that?? He settled his hands at Roman’s waist as the other guided them there and he lifted Roman with little trouble. Roman settled a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as he posed and Virgil turned with him, then let go to raise his arms high, trusting the person supporting him. 

When Virgil set Roman back down, Roman was giddy, hands waving at his sides as he jumped and did a little happy dance in place. He threw his arms around Virgil, and that time he really almost did knock him over from the force of the hug. Virgil laughed, letting himself go to the ground as one arm wrapped around Roman. “Yeah–yes, it was fun–”

Roman’s smile couldn’t get much bigger as he tucked against Virgil, happily nudging him and content.

Virgil had never danced with someone in his life; not like this, where their hand wasn’t his platform or partner. Not in a way where he was on equal footing, able to hold them close. They sat there together, catching their breath and gazing out at both the sleeping town and the stars above. Virgil must have nodded off because suddenly the sky was lighter and Roman was shifting next to him.

Virgil sat up straighter as Roman stood, looking back across the shop to the table. To his stand. He looked down at Virgil and offered him a hand, gesturing. Virgil’s at-ease expression changed to one of concern. “You want to go back?”

Roman looked off to the side with a small, sad shrug. 

“If you don’t want to, just stay, you don’t have to go back.” Virgil insisted, taking one of Roman’s hands in both of his own.

Roman gave him a gentle smile, free hand held to Virgil’s cheek. He stood on his toes and pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, hoping it said all he needed for him. Virgil held his hand there for as long as he could before Roman began to pull away. Virgil squeezed his hand imploringly.

“W-Wait! What if you just don’t go back onto the box? Then you won’t turn back again, you could stay! I-I’d love if–if you could stay?” he practically pleaded.

Roman turned back slowly to him, holding his hand reassuringly but his expression was apologetic. He looked down at his foot: a simple cloth slipper that covered the wood and the hole to anchor him to his place.   

Virgil shook his head. “You don’t have to get back up there! Dad will absolutely understand once he meets you— please. Let’s just try it?”

Roman looked hesitant as he looked over at the growing dawn light filtering through the window. But he nodded obligingly and settled beside Virgil, resting his head lightly against Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil tiredly held his hand and they sat there against the window frame to wait together, though really it was just an excuse to not say goodbye again. 

Virgil was not truly surprised when Roman went still and rigid against his side, his hand losing its grip even as Virgil continued to hold it, gently stroking with his thumb. He felt disappointed tears brim for a moment, but he didn’t let them fall. Roman wasn’t gone. Virgil could bring him back in the evening. But it wasn’t fair that he would not get to see a sunrise.

As Patton found him and fretted about whether Virgil had been out here all night (and he didn’t ask why was Roman off the box), Virgil was devising a way to change that. As his dad gently scooped him up and took him upstairs to deposit him into his little bed in the wall, Virgil lay there vowing that he’d find a way to break the spell keeping Roman trapped to the night. He deserved to bask and dance freely in the sheer unreflected light of day. 

Virgil would show him all of life he could, beyond the shop and all the music he could dance to to his heart’s content. Virgil wanted to play all his favorite songs for him and to dance with him again. Roman would get to really live, and Virgil was determined to be by his side through it all. 

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

The Weight of Being a "Good Friend"

@tss-anxceit-week Day 3: Trust & Betrayal Canonverse 2,535 Words

Logan appeared in Virgil’s room with his arms folded behind his back, looking at Virgil pointedly. Virgil tensed and paused chewing on his nails to look at him, jumping off the top of his couch to greet him. After a shared quizzical expression, Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah? What is it?” Virgil demanded, not bothering with politeness or disguising the fatigue in his voice.

 Logan nodded to the couch and Virgil stepped back to let Logan in, who went to go sit on the couch. Virgil shut the door quietly and went to go lean on the wall near him, swallowing heavily and looking down to the ground.

“Virgil, you know I do not handle emotional aspects, but I have been... concerned about your behaviour lately. You seem to always be tired, and you haven’t been talking to Thomas, either. It’s obvious that something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is.” Logan said quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand.

"I’m fine, Logan.” Virgil glanced up at Logan through his bangs, who’s face remained apprehensive. “Yeah, you don’t believe that. Well, whatever. I’m not talking about it. Everybody will think I’m blowing things out of proportion.” Virgil shook his head, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“I promise I will not. Virgil, I need to know what’s going on. This does not seem sustainable,” Logan pleaded emphatically, gripping at his knees.

Virgil hesitated, examining Logan’s face for a moment. His brow was furrowed, and he worried his lip with his teeth for a second before noticing and stopping. “I’ll think about it,” Virgil offered instead. Logan watched Virgil a little longer before nodding in agreement. “Get back to your busy schedule. I’m going to bed.” He stood up straight from off the wall, and Logan looked at him in surprise for a second before getting off the couch. It wasn’t that late, but the expanded dark patches under his eyes and unusually pale color of his skin said that he needed the rest. Virgil watched him closely as he moved, his eyes tracking Logan with a weak wave as he lowered out of the room.

Logan hummed curiously and walked down the stairs and to the kitchen table, depositing himself on a chair. Roman and Patton were situated on the couch, watching TV along with Thomas quietly. It seemed like an average evening. Logan summoned his planner and reviewed the schedule, like he often did in the evenings, but he struggled with focusing. He glanced up at the stairs once more and sighed. Anxiety was still clearly very present in Thomas’s life, but Virgil not communicating about his issue was a problem.

The way Patton also worried his lip when he thought no one was looking made the inefficacy more apparent. Logan was frustrated by missing information and left feeling restless when there were unresolved problems. He took a deep breath and put his head down on the table, pushing the schedule aside. 

“What’s got ya down, kiddo?” Patton asked, leaning in near Logan. Logan jumped slightly in surprise, not realizing Patton had gotten so close.

“I am simply tired, Patton. I think it would be wise to turn in early tonight,” Logan stated, sitting up at the table and adjusting his tie. “I’d like to set an alarm so that Thomas doesn’t stay up late on his phone again,” he added, projecting slightly louder for Roman to hear.

“What if the next post is the right inspiration he needs for something new?” Roman pipped up, looking more interested in the television than the conversation.

“He can find it tomorrow. He will not have the time or the energy to do anything with the inspiration tonight. He could perhaps even miss the post that might be inspiring in his exhaustion,” Logan pointed out the obvious flaw in his logic.

“Last time we tried that, Thomas just turned off the alarm and kept scrolling.” Patton pulled out a dining chair and joined Logan at the table.

“If we come to an accord and agree to not do that tonight, it should not be an issue again,” Logan asserted, pulling the schedule back up to him to return to examining.

“That sounds fair,” Patton said, nodding sagely and holding his chin. “Roman?” He called out to confirm.

“Fine. I guess.” Roman agreed as well, though clearly very reluctantly. Logan let out a small breath of relief and let Thomas know to set a ‘doom-scroll’ alarm for later. Logan glanced over to Virgil’s door again, wondering if Virgil was already asleep.

“Are you wondering if Virge is gonna join us tonight?” Patton asked, folding one arm on the table and propping up his head with the other.

“No, Virgil stated that he was going to bed earlier.” Logan shook his head and flipped the page on his planner, making sure the things that were missed today were recorded to do tomorrow.  

“Oh! Now, that’s surprising from my spooky son. Last month, I caught him sitting under the kitchen table watching conspiracy theories on his phone at two in the morning while I was trying to figure out why Thomas couldn’t fall asleep,” Patton explained with a slight fond chuckle.

“Indeed,” Logan hummed. “I doubt that will be a problem tonight. He appeared to be incredibly exhausted when he told me he was going to bed.” He summoned a pencil to adjust the time on something scheduled for tomorrow that did not seem like it had enough of a time cushion.

“He really hasn’t been around much,” Patton mused, throwing a glance at the stairs and sounding melancholy.

“It has been quite quiet,” Roman stated, shifting on the living room floor as he kept watching television.

“Those are both accurate summations,” Logan validated both their points distractedly.

“Are you worried about Virgil?” Patton asked kindly, looking at Logan with a soft expression.

“I am always concerned with productivity. Thomas is very hard to work with when he keeps falling prey to distractions.” Logan rubbed his face, knocking at his glasses briefly before adjusting them back into position.

“I think he’s easier to work with,” Roman muttered under his breath.

“We have very different jobs, Roman, and I know you are also frustrated by the current state of Thomas’s hair,” Logan reminded him passively.

“Ugh, we better not get any visitors or video calls,” Roman groaned.

“We’re just home alone watching TV, you two, there’s no harm in messy hair,” Patton chided, tapping the table.

“I am aware, Patton, but it is better to be presentable as a form of preparedness rather than letting healthy self-care habits slide. Thomas’s appearance is important to him, and that changing suddenly is an indicator of an issue,” Logan reminded them, adjusting his glasses. Logan looked up from planner and over to Thomas, who wasn’t even watching TV and on his phone again, already doom-scrolling. Logan groaned, closing up the planner and sending it off, standing up from the couch.

“What’s up, teach?” Roman asked, distracted by looking over Thomas’ shoulder to see the phone.

“I don’t believe anything productive is happening tonight,” Logan replied shortly. “Thomas, set an alarm to get ready for bed on your phone,” he told Thomas loudly enough to not be ignored, and Thomas blinked a few times, looking at Logan before switching to the alarm app and setting one for nine PM. “You’ll ignore that one, it is too early. Set an alarm for 11:30 PM and take it seriously when it goes off,” Logan insisted firmly. Roman rolled his eyes, letting out a little huff and Thomas just looked at Logan oddly. “Thomas.”

“Fine, okay, got it,” Thomas replied, setting the alarm where requested. He didn’t seem concerned about not getting enough sleep in the slightest, despite even Virgil valuing that by going to bed early. If Virgil did go to bed, at all. Logan technically couldn’t confirm. The alarm was set, so other than checking in at 11:30, Logan wasn’t needed here for doom-scrolling, so he left to his room to review the memories for the day to make sure the important ones were stored correctly.

———

Virgil paced the room helplessly, long since having given up on trying to sleep. He felt so damn exhausted all the time, but the sleep just wouldn’t come. He was completely on edge, racing thoughts of things that could happen and how terribly things were going plagued every corner of his mind. Checking in on Thomas revealed he was still doom-scrolling, with Patton making quiet awkward stammering noises and looking at the clock. Virgil Let out a heavy sigh and tugged at the zipper on his hoodie sleeve, pulling it up and down while he walked.

“Not that your little failure of a lie earlier wasn’t amusing, Virgil, but if you’re going to go out of your way to fib, shouldn’t you do something more fun than pacing about like a caged animal?” Janus asked in a silky smooth voice, and Virgil jumped, turning to see Janus sitting on the couch with his legs crossed and leaning his chin on an arm resting on his knee.

“Get out of here!” Virgil shot, motioning away.

“Really, you should work on your subterfuge. Dreadful stuff,” Janus teased, grinning at Virgil like a shark would at his dinner.

“I didn’t mean to lie about going to bed, I just couldn’t get to sleep!” Virgil protested, hunching over and glaring at Janus. “Seriously, what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded shortly.

“I was talking about that little squeaky ‘I’m fine’ you tried, but that one was also truly heinous,” Janus replied with the bite of snark.

“Hey, I didn’t squeak!” Virgil clenched his fists as he glowered at Janus.

“Po-tay-to, Po-tot-to,” Janus hummed, drumming his fingers on his chin. “Now, what are you doing trying to lie when it is my thing and clearly not your forté?” He asked with a smug purr in his voice.

Virgil stared at Janus incredulously for a moment, but the expression never faltered, keeping his cool confidence despite the confused stare. “It’s—It’s you, Janus!”

“Yes, lord of the lies, at your service,” Janus said.

“No, I mean, you’re causing this!” Virgil hissed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and returning to pacing.

“If it was me, I would have lied impeccably, thank you very much,” Janus refuted, sitting up and folding his hands on his lap.

“I hate not bringing it up, and I hate trying to be a ‘good friend’,” Virgil muttered, kicking his sneaker as he turned around during his endless march.

“Of course you do. Terrible thing, really. Now, for the spider’s benefit, seeing as I fully understand, can you explain exactly about what?” Janus asked airily, twisting his gloved hand a little in the air.

Virgil rolled his eyes and huffed. “Elliot’s new boyfriend, Mitchell. He’s awful. And I know Elliot asked us to let them figure it out themselves. And I know we agreed. But it’s killing me to think about what’s going on behind closed doors if that’s how he acts in public,” he explained bitterly.

Janus froze and blinked, then facetiously coughed a few times to hide his surprise. “Virgil, you know that has nothing to do with us, along with the rest of these things you’re so positive about? He could be just the same, or better. Why are you assuming it’s terrible? And why are you acting like it’s our job to fix it when Elliot is their own person?”

“They’re our friend, and we don’t want them hurt, doy!” Virgil smacked himself in the temple with his fist and made a face.

“You can’t save people from being hurt. It’s just an unfortunate part of life,” Janus replied flatly, his face setting seriously.

“Well, maybe it freaking sucks! Maybe it’s normal to be worried about your friends. Why don’t you look past yourself for one freaking second and see how bad this situation is,” Virgil said angrily, his speed picking up as he walked back and forth.

 “Not like this, you’re blowing things out of proportion,” Janus replied, his voice faltering.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone! You’re always telling me I’m overreacting, but eventually I’m not going to be, and Elliot could be the one suffering for it!” Virgil threw his arms in the air and scuffed his shoe on the carpet.

“Virgil. Stop,” Janus said, and Virgil paused to look at him. Janus patted the spot on the couch next to him, and Virgil stomped over to drop onto the couch, just to make it clear he wasn’t fighting for the sake of fighting. “Sometimes, in life, we have to watch our friends and loved ones suffer. Even though we knew there was a better way. Or a compromise. Because they want to be the ones to make their own mistakes. Elliot asked us to drop it, so we did. We can bring it up again if—”

“When,” Virgil insisted.

“If we see it again. And suggest healthier boundaries, because we don’t want to see them hurt. But I’m afraid it’s Elliot’s life and ultimately Elliot’s choice. And no amount of panic or anger will change that. We simply can’t spend all of our time and energy on trying to change something we have no say in. Thomas is sitting out there doom-scrolling because he’s burnt out, even though he already knows that no amount of Twitter will quiet the duke’s suggestions. You know what to do in these situations already. Now look at me and tell me what we’re going to do,” Janus insisted firmly.

“It’s called ‘X’ now,” Virgil said in annoyance, but Janus only glared at him with thinly pressed lips. “Take a deep breath. Tell myself that this is something I can’t change. Try to adapt. Focus on moving forward,” Virgil recited in defeat.

“Right. And we don’t have to keep silent. Nor do we have to stay friends with Elliot, either, if this keeps hurting us. But we should still respect Elliot’s wishes and assume they can handle themselves. They have done so for all the years before we met them. But it’s still their job to speak up in their relationship if they’re unhappy. If we butt in and try to fix things for them, the odds are good it’ll do nothing but breed resentment. We have to live our life and Elliot has to live theirs,” Janus said reassuringly, melting the bitterness from Virgil’s face. Virgil took a deep breath and nodded, letting out the air as a tired sigh. “Is there anything else I need to intelligently and humbly point out before you kick me out of your room?” Janus teased.

Virgil looked up at him, reaching for the capelet with a small tug. “Stay?” Janus wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder, and he leaned in, still holding on to the fabric. They sat there in comfortable silence as Virgil’s breathing evened out and the light in the living room went out when Thomas switched it off. “Tell anyone this happened, and I’ll kill you,” Virgil whispered silently.

“I’ll alert the presses,” Janus scoffed, rubbing Virgil’s shoulder. 

[nolongerphantom]

Chapter 4 of Orange is Wrath is out on AO3!!!!!!!!

Finally finished writing it and instantly uploaded it after a quick read, y'all waited for so long and you deserve it!!

Read it here