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stillebesat · 3 years

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Meeting Virgil (5x1) -Third Time

Sanders Shorts: Remy Sanders Sides: Virgil Blurb: A Special Delivery Prequel. -Five times Remy tried to give Virgil a child and the one time he succeeded. Inspiration: @book-of-charlie asked: What did Virgil mean by “the last 5 times?” Fic Type: STORK!AU, Winged!Remy Chapter Warnings: Implied Neglectful Parents, Implied Miscarriage Taglist in Reblog. To Catch Up: First Time Second Time

Little Lacey was going to change the world. Remy knew it from the moment the baby girl’s eyes had lit up upon seeing him and his wings. From the second she had opened her mouth and let out the most contagious laugh he’d ever heard.

Even now, as he wound his way through the golf course parking lot crowded with stalls and people waiting for the fireworks to start on the hill above them, Lacey drew smiles from everyone standing nearby with that contagious bubbling laughter as she bounced in his arms.

He’d been tempted to put her to sleep when the twin lines of green and purple he’d been following led straight into this noisy place with music blaring, kids screaming, and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy thick in the air. First impressions with new parents hardly went well if the baby was screaming their head off after all, yet Lacey apparently loved the chaos surrounding them. She’d perked right up, her giggles ringing in his ear before he’d even landed.

There was no doubt. Despite her previous parents’ best attempts to treat her like a forgotten dusty doll in a china cabinet, Lacey thrived in having everyone’s attention focused on her. For being in the limelight. Yes. Remy knew she would change the world once she was older if the way everyone cooed -from the lady waiting in line with her son to get their face painted to the burly motorcycle dude that looked like he could tear your head off with his pinky- at her was any indication.

It was attention that Remy wasn’t exactly used to dealing with himself anymore. Usually his S.T.O.R.K. duties took him to places that were...quieter...more…secluded environments. One on Two situations where he could meet the new parents away from watching eyes, give them their new bundle of joy and then take off soon after their bond was established.

“Oh, isn’t she precious!” A grandmother cooed at Lacey, her hands twitching with the obvious old person urge to pinch the baby’s cheeks as she gave Remy a warm smile. “You’re one lucky fella having such a beautiful daughter!”

His stomach did a little uncomfortable flip flop at that. It wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken as a parent, but it always threw him off when people assumed he was capable of such a feat when growing up it had felt like everyone expected him to die before he reached twenty.

According to Larry and Dot, however, despite the years he’d spent ferrying babies around -and getting them to their parents without issue...well, major issues-- he was still quite ‘rough around the edges.’

Ha.

He’d like to see them say that when faced with the burly motorcycle dude two stalls over. He couldn’t be that rough acting anymore.

Probably.

Maybe.

Eh.

Remy shook his head, wings twitching against his back as he grinned at the woman, glad his metallic green eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. “She’s adorable alright, but I’m just watching her for a friend while they grab a bite to eat.” He tilted his head to the twin lines that led towards the other side of the food stalls beyond the lady as Lacey giggled in his ear, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

The words flowed easily enough off his tongue, despite the bitter taste they left. Lying wasn’t really a thing with S.T.O.R.K.s hence his...technical truth. He was watching Lacey, though friend might be a bit strong of a word when he’d never met the parents before. But he was planning to grab some of those delectable chicken strips he could smell afterwards. So yah...basically the truth.

He was good at that.

Larry and Dot would visibly roll their eyes but quietly smile their approval at his ability to find and exploit loopholes.

The grandmother’s eyes grew softer as Lacey wiggled, reaching fingers grabbing onto the feathers her little hands could reach. “How sweet.” She murmured, placing a hand over her heart.

Did she mean Lacey or the fact Remy was ‘watching’ her? He sighed internally, keeping the smile in place with effort. He’d never been the greatest at interacting with old people who would ‘dear me’ and ‘oh my’ him to death if he accidentally slipped and swore in front of them.

“Mhmmm, if you’ll excuse me.” He gave her a nod, wings pressing harder against his back as he edged around her, waving one hand over his head like he was acknowledging someone in the distance and quickly vanished into the crowd, following the green and purple ribbons that would lead him to Lacey’s future family.

Still both glowing with the exact same shade of brightness. Still unknown just which one would end up with little Lacey’s shining personality in their lives.

Well. He paused as the two colored ribbons finally diverged. The Purple leading to the right to where the sun had just set. Green leading to the left to where hundreds of people were sitting, waiting for the show in the sky.

Both options meant still more people. But with the brightness being so close, he’d have to scope out both possibilities first before making a decision.

He exhaled, trying to remain relaxed as the crowd brushed by him, his wings trembling against his back. It wasn’t like anyone could see his wings so he had nothing to fear about being mobbed for his feathers. But still. The constant press of people unknowingly touching them had him on edge.

“Purple first.” He mumbled, adjusting his grip on Lacey as she sat back up, clapping her hands together with a squeal as he moved them closer to a brightly colored bouncy house. It wasn’t like the Edgelord would be here among the Good Old Rocky Mountains when he lived on the opposite side of the country, but it would be best to confirm that first.

With how quickly ‘Virge’ had vanished that night in the woods, it wouldn’t surprise him if the poor guy was still lost in the backwaters of Virginia.

No. Probably not. He seemed resourceful enough...unless he’d gotten himself captured by a Mothman colony--did they have colonies or were they more of a solitary creat--

Remy unexpectedly broke through the crowd, coming out where a line of porta-potties stood like quiet stinky sentinels in the fading light.

And there, right where the purple line ended, stood Mr. Not-a-Good-Dad himself in all his gothic glory. Wearing a black tank top that showed off his arms, artistically torn jeans, and purple dyed hair falling into his storm colored eyes.

Remy’s heart skipped a beat as he stumbled to a stop, rapidly blinking to clear his vision of this impossible mirage. “No. Fu--Freaking. Way.” He breathed, staring at Virge just as the guy reached down and picked up a little girl who couldn’t have been more than four or five years old, easily balancing her on his hip like he’d done this exact action multiple times before, speaking softly to her as he brushed the tears from her wet cheeks with his thumb.

Remy swallowed, bouncing Lacey as she wiggled in his grip. Lost maybe? Had to be. He couldn’t see the bonding lines between the two of them for all that Virge looked like a Father patiently calming his distressed child.

Of course, that didn’t rule out the possibility that she was his cousin, or even a niece or some kid of a friend. He would need to get closer to the girl to know for sure if there was any connection between the two.

Remy shrugged, drawing in a steadying breath. Well. Better make his move now rather than later. “Well, Laceyloo” He said, giving the girl a wink as he moved forward. “Ready to try your luck with our resident Emo?”

Didn’t the saying go that the ‘third time's the charm’ or something? With how adorably cute she was...and with how comfortable Virge seemed with this other little girl, perhaps Lacey’s laughter would be the key to convincing Dark and Brooding to accept his obviously destined role as a Father.

One could hope.

“Hey Stranger.” He called, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as the Edgelord jumped like he’d just been electrocuted, causing the little girl to cry out and cling to him as stormy grey eyes met Remy’s metallic green ones.

Virge glowered at him even as his hands moved to soothe the girl, low words leaving his lips as she buried her head against his chest, his stormy eyes only softening as Lacey sat upright in Remy’s arms and gave him a tiny wave of her hand and a delighted giggle.

“Hey.” He said, still focused on Lacey, a myriad of conflicting expressions crossing his face.

Hook.

Remy moved a deliberately casual step closer, wings fluttering with anticipation. “Fancy meeting you here.” He made a show of looking around. “Does Mothman usually attend this sort of thing?”

Virge rolled his eyes, glancing at the girl in his arms before focusing back on Remy. “Slenderman actually.”

A what? Remy paused, glancing at the sniffling girl with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” She didn’t look like a...whatever a Slenderman was.

Another thing he’d have to go look up if these encounters with V-man were gonna continue and he kept insisting on referencing random fantasy cryptid creatures that Remy had barely heard of.

That way he would be more prepared next time.

If there was a next time.

If Lacey failed to work her magic.

Which she wouldn’t.

Because she was Lacey the Amazing and this was their lucky third encounter. So of course he wouldn’t be seeing his stubborn Emo Nightmare again.

Unfortunately.

Virge snorted. “No. She wouldn’t be considered one if I was. Lily here has lost her parents. I’m helping her find them. Right Lily?”

The child glanced up, face tear-streaked, bright brown eyes shimmering with more tears waiting to fall. “They’re gone.” She whimpered.

“And we’ll find them.” Virge assured, voice going soft. “Remember? You were telling me what your Mommy was wearing. A pretty pearl necklace right? Her favorite that you can’t yet wear?”

She sniffled, nodding. “Yah.”

Remy shook his head. Well that was a helpful description.

Not.

Still. Edgelord had shown more patience with the crying kid than most strangers would in this sort of situation. “A necklace.” He repeated. “Like you’ll be able to see that in the dark.”

Virge rolled his eyes. “It’s more help than you’re currently being, Eagle One. Plus I am listening for anyone calling her name.”

“Mhmm in this crowd? The parents would need to scream quite loud.” He took another step closer, smiling as Lily and Lacey made eye contact, the baby in his arms wiggling as Lily straightened with a “Hi you!” as she waved at Lacey. “No, It sounds like you need help from an Expert.” He said, spreading out his wings, flapping them once.

A bad decision really with how many people were around that he could have hit, though the surprised sound Virge made as he lifted a hand, taking an automatic step closer as his grey eyes darted to the people continuing by made it well worth it.

He froze as Lacey laughed, making grabby hands at his wings and Lily gasped a soft “Angel?” leaving her lips, her brown eyes growing bright with awe.

A S.T.O.R.K. But he wouldn’t begrudge the child for her confusion. Remy nodded to Lily, bouncing Lacey in his arms. “I’m here to help you Lils. We’ll find your parents.”

This close he could see easily her parent line--the same Green one he’d been following earlier ironically enough, because of course it would be the same fu-freaking line he’d followed all the way here, winding its way upwind of the porta-potties to a low hill with a couple shade trees at the top. Well, if it didn’t work out with Mr. Reluctant here, at least it appeared Lily already liked her potential new baby sister if their shared giggles and fascination with his wings was anything to go by.

Virge stared beyond Remy, watching the crowd, growing more tense the longer everyone else continued walking by without reacting. “They can’t--” He whispered.

“See them? No.” Remy folded his wings, unwilling to keep them open and exposed around so many individuals now that he’d made his point. “Betcha that’s why people don’t usually see your Mothman either.” Probably. It had to be a magic related thing. Or belief thing. A blending ability? Were S.T.O.R.K.s like Mothmen? Bigfoot? Vampi--oh, yah no….his wings pressed against his back. If it turned out Vampires and Werewolves and Mothmen were actually real only then would he have a mental breakdown over maybe being in the same category as mythical creatures. Right now. He had to focus. Find Lily’s parents. Give Lacey to the Edgelord and walla. Mission accomplished.

Virge slowly shook his head, shifting Lily against his side before he rubbed the back of his neck. “No, there's been enough credible sightings of Mothmen by people to discount that theory.” He said, shrugging one shoulder. “It may explain why, when people talk about their encounters with Angels, that they rarely mention them with wings though.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Not an Angel, V-man. I already told you. I’m a--”

“Stork. Yes. But are you sure that’s not a type of Angel?” He asked, eyes gleaming in the faint light given by the lamp posts. “You bring babies to parents who want children right? You’re willing to help me find this girl’s parents. Therefore a Stork could be a subset of Guardian Angels.”

Huh.

“...You been thinking on this alot?” Remy asked faintly.

Which One. It shouldn’t thrill him that Gothica incarnate was thinking about him. And Two. Questioning his so-called ‘Angelhood’ was definitely not going to keep him up all night regardless of how this encounter ended. An Angel? HIM?! Ha. Larry and Dot would have a conniption that their troubled ward was considered some sort of goodie two shoes Guardian Angel.

Maybe.

Else Larry would tear up, crush him in a hug, and start blubbering Dadisms of ‘being so proud’ and Dot would pat him firmly on the back and say “about time.” It was hard to tell which they’d go most days.

Remy shook his head, raising a finger and jabbing it in Edgelord’s direction. “You.” He said. “Are distracting me from helping Lily” and Lacey “find her parents. Shame. On. You.” He spread a wing towards the girl in Virge’s arms. She immediately perked up, a shy smile on her lips as she reached out to touch his feathers.

Laughter danced in Virge’s eyes as tilted his head, purple tipped bangs falling in front of them, shadowing their grey color further as he maintained eye contact, not at all distracted by the wing inches from his arm. “Oh? Then tell me, O Mighty Stork, how can you find her parents?”

“Same way I keep finding you.” Remy said with a smirk, heart fluttering in anticipation as Popsicle blanched. So close. “Not that you can see it.” He pointed to the ground where the purple ribbon still shown between Virge and Lacey and then over to the green one that also streaked from her to run parallel to Lily’s line that would lead them to her parents. “But all children have a connection between them and their parents or guardians that we,” he gestured to himself, “can see.”

Virge licked his lips, glancing to Lacey, then to the ground, his arm tightening protectively around Lily. “And Lily’s parents are?”

“Right up that hill.” He said without hesitation, pointing to where the green line led. “I can’t see who it ends at, but they are over there. I can easily reunite Lily with them, if you don’t mind holding little Lacey here for me in the meantime.” He said, his wings rising and mantling around them to block Virge’s view of anyone else as he held out the baby for him to take.

Lacey automatically reached out to her potential new Dad, making grabby hands along with a soft cooing sound demanding to be held.

Line.

Virge reached out, arm already curving to take the baby from him, only to hesitate at the last second, grey eyes flickering with shadows as he met Remy’s green ones. “That first time. When you broke into my place. You said…” He licked his lips, hand trembling as he pulled it back to hold onto Lily. “I would only have to ‘hold her and see.’ What did you mean by that?”

….Smart Fish.

Remy exhaled, shaking his head. Sinker totally sunk. Suspicious Nancy here just had to remember some off hand comment he’d made ages ago and question it.

It was times like this that he wished he could Lie to potential parents. It would make his job so much easier. But at the same time, he knew all too well that starting out a budding connection with lies would mean a crumbling family foundation later on. Best to stick to the truth to give the child the best connection with their new parents from the start.

Remy pulled Lacey back into a more steady position against his chest, soothing her disgruntled sounds as she still tried to reach out to the Emo--or maybe it was Lily she was reaching for? The other little girl was bouncing in Virge’s arms hard enough to be a workout as she stretched towards Remy.

Probably a good idea to not have those two touch just yet. He wanted to try and make the bond with Virge work first before allowing Lacey to complete the bond with Lily’s family. He shifted to keep the two out of reach from each other before speaking to Virge. “A parental bond is only established with a child in the custody of a S.T.O.R.K. when said child is touched or held by the new parent. It’s a love at first contact sort of thing.” He said, not at all surprised when the reluctant Emo took two quick steps back away from him.

Stubborn. Why was he so stubborn about this?! Shouldn’t him showing up Three Fuc--Freaking times be clear enough indication that PopStar here was meant to be a Father?!

“So~. If I were to hold Lacey for you while you helped Lily--’” Virge asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I would have killed two birds with one stone.” He said simply. “Lily would return to her parents and Lacey here would have bonded with you and you’d be her new Dad.”

Virge growled at that, eyes flashing as his shoulders hunched high enough to nearly touch his ears. “I told you before that I’m not a good Dad.” He hissed. “And yet you just tried to trick me into--”

Well most people weren’t this stupidly resistant to becoming a parent.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “Ah Huh. For some reason, LolliPop.” He gestured to Lily still comfortably resting in his arms. “I don’t believe you.”

Virgil bared his teeth, arms tightening protectively around the girl. “This is different. She’s lost! I’m not going to leave her to wander around here all alone!”

“And Lacey is different how?” Remy retorted. “She is lost, looking for a new Dad, and walla you’re here to save the bloody day!”

Virgil shook his head, taking two more steps back, nearly hitting the nearest porta-pottie. “NO.”

And just like that the Purple line fizzled, growing hazy to Remy’s sight as the Green line took on an even brighter glow.

Remy groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jiminy Crickets! And he’d had such high hopes that Lacey would be the breakthrough to Virge’s reluctance in joining the Fatherhood Club. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, you fuc--freaking scaredy cat!” Not that he had any personal experience in it, but he’d seen it. Seen how happy the men were to become fathers once the bond was established. “I don’t make mistakes in this. You’d be an excellent Dad no matter your doubts. I wouldn’t be here talking to you otherwise!”

“You don’t know that!!” Virgil retorted, a tint of panic to his voice. “You can’t! How can I believe some guy showing up with a random baby in his arms--you could have kidnapped her for all I--”

“You’ve seen my wings.” Remy interrupted, spreading them out and flapping them for emphasis. “Obviously I’m not exactly some guy. I don’t kidnap babies. I rescue them from bad situations and take them to better ones. That’s what a S.T.O.R.K. does!”

“I can’t--”

“You’ll have to at some point.” Remy snapped. “I’m going to keep coming to you until you do. You do realize that right? You’re marked for Fatherhood and if it’s not me that can get that through your thick skull it will be a different S.T.O.R.K. who does.”

Virge violently shook his head. “No. I’m not--”

“A good Dad. I know. I’ve heard.” Remy rolled his eyes, snapping his wings shut as he turned away to follow the green line, adjusting as Lacey twisted in his arms trying to look behind them. “I still don’t believe you.” But it was obvious by how the purple line had faded to nearly nothing that Lacey wouldn’t end up as the Edgelord’s kid.

A pity. The dude could use some serious laughter in his life. Bright and bubbly like little Lacey’s. Too bad he was apparently immune to her charm.

“...Where are you going?”

Remy fought back the urge to snarl. “To take Lacey here to her next best option, which funnily enough is Lily’s parents so are you coming with me to reunite them or not?” At least he already knew that Lily would get along with Lacey. One hurdle gone in that regard.

Virge made a noise of surprise. “They lost their child and you’re taking another to them---”

“Mistakes happen.” Remy said shortly, glancing over his shoulder. “No one can be the perfect parent 24/7. It’s impossible. You get distracted at the wrong moment and walla your child has slipped away. Or you think someone else is watching them while they think you’re watching them and no one questions why they haven’t seen the kid recently. it---her parent line is still bright, Virge.” He looked away as Mr. Reluctant caught up and fell in step with him. “They aren’t horrible bad people just because they lost her tonight. They love her. No doubt about it.”

And if Cynical Gothica was so concerned about them and their parenting skills then he should have said YES to being the Dad to Lacey before his purple line had fizzled out!

Virge ducked his head, shoulders hunching as he brushed Lily’s hair out of her eyes. “...Okay.” He mumbled a dozen steps later. “But what if they--they loved--love her, but…but did something---what if something happened to hurt her? Badly? And they couldn’t--what if it’s not fix--fixable? What then? Would you really--”

Remy stopped just short of cresting the hill, wings prickling, goosebumps on his arms sending a chill through him as he turned back to Virge. This. He could sense. Was important.

“Mistakes happen, V.” He repeated in a softer tone. “Whatever mistake you think you’ve made that you think disqualifies you from ever becoming a Father…” He stretched out a wing, brushing the Emo’s cheek, causing him to look up, eyes so soft and vulnerable that it made Remy’s chest ache. “It’s not an unforgivable one. Again. I wouldn’t be here if it were.”

People changed. People could become better than they were. Whatever had happened in the Edgelord’s past wasn’t a deal breaker to the S.T.O.R.K.s. The three times he’d shown up in his presence had to be some sort of proof. He’d never heard of someone refusing parenthood before, but the fact that Remy kept returning, the fact that Virge kept coming up as an option in the first place, had to mean something.

V bit his lip, eyes troubled as he looked to Lacey then back to Remy, the purple ribbon connecting the two flickering like a sputtering candle. “I’m not--” He whispered.

Remy let out a slow breath, well aware that his wing was still touching his cheek, but unwilling to pull away just yet. “It’s something to think on, Virge O’Doom.” He said, voice still soft. “Once is a Chance, Twice a Coincidence, Thrice? It’s a Pattern. It’s just a matter of deciding if you’re ready when I come back a Fourth time.”

As much as he wanted to convince him and make it to work between Lacey and the Emo...the line had already fuzzed once. He didn’t want Virge to have any doubts in this.

“LILY?!” A shrill woman’s voice suddenly rang through the air, breaking the tension between them like a snapped wire. “LILY WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“LILYLOO?” A man called out, his voice breaking on the last syllable. “Lily?! Has anyone seen my daughter?!”

Remy smirked, pulling his wing back and raising an eyebrow to Virge as Lily jerked upright at her name, nearly pulling free from his grip in the process. “See? Not bad parents.”

Virge drew in a visibly shaky breath, his arms tightening around the little girl. “Right.”

“MOMMY!” Lily cried, wiggling to get free. “DADDY!”

“We got her!” Remy called, using his wing to push Mr. Reluctant forward up the hill, pitching his voice so it would carry to the frantic parents. “Over here!” He raised his free hand, waving to draw their attention as he moved his other wing to cover Lacey, hiding her from their view for now.

“Oh, Lily!” Her mother rushed forward wild curly hair streaming behind her like a banner, pulling her free from Virge’s grip with little effort to smother her with kisses. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Lily wrapped her arms around her Mother, burying her head against her chest. “Sorry Momma,” She whimpered.

“Where was she?” Her father asked, hovering anxiously behind his wife. His fingers running through his daughter’s hair.

“By the bathrooms.” Virge said, shuffling awkwardly in place. “She was crying, so we---” He gestured to Remy and himself. “Were helping her find you.”

We? Nope nope. “Pretty sure that was all you.” Remy muttered under his breath, shifting as Lacey wiggled in his grip, trying to peer out from around his wing. He would have never been aware of the girl’s situation if Castlevania hadn’t taken the initiative. His job usually involved helping unloved kids. Not loved ones. Even if they were lost.

“Lily,” Her mother scolded in a soft tone, lifting up her chin. “You know you need one of us to go with you.”

The girl sniffed, eyes welling with tears. “But I’m a big girl! I can go by myself! I’m no baby.”

Grief flashed across the Mom’s face, one hand dropping to her stomach before quickly rising back to cradle the back of Lily’s head.

Ah. Remy straightened, light green dust swirling at his fingertips as recognition flashed through him. He’d seen that particular look hundreds of times before from mothers who’d lost a babe in the womb. He’d bet his sunglasses that the baby would have been the same age as little Lacey here had they survived to full term, hence why the line was so bright. Lacey could easily slip into the family like she’d always been a part of them.

“That may be.” Her husband said, taking the opportunity to pull Lily into his arms, squeezing her tight as he gave his wife a concerned look, his own eyes showing a hint of grief as well. “But you know how your mother worries about you.”

“So much, baby girl. So much. If I lost you too-” Her voice hitched as she abruptly cut off, bowing her head, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“But you didn’t.” Remy said soothingly as he moved closer to the family, fingers of his free hand twisting to scatter green dust around them so that any nosy viewers would stop paying attention now that the little family reunion was complete. “Everyone is safe and sound. No harm done.” He pulled back his wing back to reveal baby Lacey, purposely brushing his feathers along her neck, causing her to break into soft laughter, twisting in his arms from the tickling sensation.

The Mother looked up at the sound, mouth dropping open. “Oh.” She breathed, clasping her hands over her heart, eyes shimmering as she stared at Lacey. “She’s--”

“Cute right?” Remy asked, holding her out in an unspoken invitation to hold her.

Unlike Virge, the Scrooge of Fatherhood, hovering beside him, she didn’t hesitate. She reached out to gently take Lacey into her arms, a hidden weight vanishing from her shoulders as Lacey giggled, nuzzling her face against the Mother’s neck, tiny fingers gripping onto her shirt.

“She’s absolutely precious.” She murmured, pressing a kiss into her thick hair. “What’s her name?”

“Lacey.” Remy said simply, the tip of his wing stretching out to push the Father and Lily closer to them.

“Lacey.” The Father repeated, moving to her side, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched his wife slowly rock the baby back and forth. “An L name.” He reached out, running a hand down Lacey’s back, causing the green line in Remy’s sight to flash twice indicating the parental bond had been accepted. “Just like Lily’s.”

Perfect. Remy exhaled, snapping out his wing to block Virge just as he tried to interrupt the moment.

Idiot.

Remy grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away as his wings fluttered, sending more light green sparks swirling away to settle around the newly expanded family, ensuring that Lacey would be able to bond with them in peace without further interruption.

Virge struggled, twisting in Remy’s grip, unable to break free as the first set of fireworks burst in the sky overhead. “That’s it?! You can’t seriously just--”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Can. Did. Bought the T-Shirt.” Or food. Could he still get his chicken strips if the fireworks had already started? Probably not. That was disappointing.

“Seriously?! You can’t just drop off a baby and leave!”

Funny. Remy pulled them to a stop at the bottom of the hill, mantling his wings so that Virge stood in his shadow. “I’m a S.T.O.R.K., Grimm Reaper. You do remember what that means right? Leaving babies on doorsteps is kinda the whole jig.”

Virge bristled, not at all intimidated. “But you just left her!”

Must be all those Mothman encounters. Remy crossed his arms. “In good hands, Virgeroo. Not all parents need me to stick around once I give them a child.” Thankfully. He hated dealing with the ones who had a million and six impossible questions they wanted answered. But he wasn’t actually going to leave little Lacey there just like that. What sort of S.T.O.R.K. would he be to literally just dump a child in a lady’s arms and leave?

He’d double back around to check in once he was sure Virge wouldn’t go try to find them and ruin everything.

“But!”

“No.”

EmoDramatic threw up his hands. “How will they explain this though? Going to a fireworks show with one child and coming home with two!”

Remy spread his arms, wiggling his fingers. “Maaagiic~.” He smirked, snapping his wings shut. “They can explain it however they want.” The bond would ensure that whatever reason they gave for suddenly having another child, it would be believed by those who heard it. “It’s not your concern.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, brushing past him.

Not until Mr. Not-a-Good-Dad accepted his fate at least. And who knew when that would happen. Would his curiosity help spur him into taking that final step?

Virge whirled with him, fingers brushing his wing before landing on his arm, sending a shiver down Remy’s spine. “I don’t understand.”

“And you won’t, LolliPop.” Remy shrugged free from his grip, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Not until you say yes to Dadhood. That’s another thing you can think on until I see you next.” He gave his Edgelord a two fingered salute as he jumped into the air, shimmering dust whirling around him helping him to vanish from view as a series of green and purple fireworks exploded overhead.

To Be Continued.

#Meeting Virgil #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #STORK AU #Remy #Virgil Sanders #Sleep #Anxiety #implied neglectful parents tw #implied miscarriage tw

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snowdice · 4 years

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Trying to Sleep (Part of the Sometimes Labels Shift Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Patton/Logan

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Patton

Summary: Virgil and Logan are awake in the middle of the night for different reasons. Featuring more power hugs!

Notes: Past Child Abuse, Superhero AU, nightmares, insomnia

It’s not really a sequel, sequel to Saturday Morning Hugs, but it’s about power hugs!

This takes place after my story Sometimes Labels Fail.

Virgil really should try to go to sleep. It was already 2am and it was a school night, but despite that, he was still on his phone. He… didn’t really want to go to sleep. His stupid brain had apparently decided it was nightmare week, and he’d had a particularly vicious one last night that had put him on edge for the whole day. He… didn’t want a repeat performance.

At the same time, he also knew that not sleeping was likely to make his anxiety even worse and make him physically miserable as well. He sighed. He should sleep.

…

He’d get himself a glass of water and then he’d sleep.

…

He wasn’t stalling.

He slipped out of bed. Missy made an unhappy grunt, and he patted her head in apology for disturbing her. She flopped over to take up even more of the bed than she’d already been taking up.

He put his feet into the cat paw slippers Patton had gotten him and shoved his door open the rest of the way. (It had already been open enough for Missy to get in and out at will.)

He was walking down the steps when he felt a poke on his shoulder out of nowhere. He blinked. Logan was awake at this hour? Tilting his head, he sent tendrils of shadows out across the bottom floor of the house. He found something radiating warmth in Logan’s office and let his shadows wrap around it. Virgil smirked when it immediately tried to wiggle away as he turned to head to Logan’s office.

“Virgil, your shadows are cold,” Logan said the second Virgil opened his office door.

“Would you rather I set you on fire?” Virgil asked. Logan rolled his eyes and Virgil allowed the shadows that had wrapped around him to unravel for the most part, though he let the couple of tendrils wrapped around his ankles linger. “So, what are you doing up?” Virgil asked, taking a seat on his desk. Though in truth there was no need for the question. There was only one reason Logan would be up at this hour. In fact,… Virgil laid down across his desk on the piles of papers in front of Logan. His head landed on a textbook.

Logan sighed. “I was working on that.”

“At 2am?” Virgil asked, without moving.

“Patton’s influence on you is routinely inconvenient.”

Virgil just smiled up at him cheekily.

Logan leaned back in his chair, unable to get to his math for the moment. “And what are you doing up?” he asked.

“I was just getting a glass of water,” Virgil said.

Logan considered him for a long moment. His hand came up to touch the top of Virgil’s head. “You didn’t seem to have a good day yesterday.”

Virgil shrugged. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

Logan frowned. “Nightmares?”

“Yeah,” Virgil admitted. “I’ll talk to Emile about them tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

“You should do so, but I will still worry,” Logan said. Virgil rolled his eyes at him. “Did you have another tonight?”

Virgil shook his head. “Haven’t been able to convince myself to go to sleep tonight yet.”

“I see,” Logan said. “We should probably both actually try.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “I was going to when I got back upstairs.”

Logan nodded and stood. “Let’s get you your glass of water,” he suggested.

Virgil nodded and followed him to the kitchen. He noted with amusement that he was also wearing his pair of cat paw slippers.

They both got a glass of water and stood at the counter. Logan must have noticed the way Virgil was having his shadows curl around his ankles with a gentle pressure, because Virgil felt a soft squeeze around his middle via Logan’s powers. Virgil smiled at him, and the pressure didn’t let up until they’d both finished off their water and put their glasses in the sink. Logan put a hand on his back as the exited the kitchen, and they climbed the stairs together.

Logan paused outside of Virgil’s door and looked him over. “Would you like to sleep with Patton and I tonight?” he asked.

Virgil couldn’t help but be surprised by the offer. “I… would there even be enough room for all of us?” he asked.

“I’m sure we’d manage.” Virgil bit his lip. When he didn’t respond for a few seconds, Logan just smiled at him. “Come on,” he said. He pushed Virgil gently, but firmly down the hallway towards their bedroom.

When they entered the bedroom, Logan passed him to lean over the bed “Patton,” he said, shaking the man gently. Patton made a confused noise. “Move over. We have a guest.”

“Hmm?” he asked blinking open his eyes. He squinted at Virgil. “Hi Virgil.”

“Hey, dad.”

He still looked confused and tired, but he scooted more to one side of the bed and opened his arms in invitation. With just a moment of hesitation, Virgil crawled into their bed. Patton instantly wrapped his arms around him. He pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead with a hum.

The bed depressed as Logan climbed onto the other side. “He won’t even remember this in the morning,” Logan said amused. “He’ll have no idea how you got here.”

“I’m ‘wake,” Patton slurred.

“Of course, dear,” he said. Then he mumbled “dead to the world,” under his breath.

Virgil laughed and Patton reached over him to smack Logan gently. “Go to sleep.”

“Yes, love,” Logan replied. Logan settled the blankets around all three of them with a mix of his hands and his powers, and then he slipped off his glasses. Patton’s grip had already gone slack around Virgil, but just having him close and having Logan’s shoulder pressed into his back helped Virgil feel a lot braver about the concept of going to sleep.

“Goodnight,” Virgil said. There wasn’t a response from Patton, but Logan patted him on the back.

“Sleep well.”

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Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #platonic analogical #logicality #platonic moxiety #not pieces fic #labeled universe #sometimes labels shift #adriana writes #implied/referenced child abuse #nightmares #insomnia

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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

Text

you were my crown

chapter 4

Ao3

~^~ The scrape and swoosh of curtains opening followed by a blast of light to his face woke Jens up. He winced and jerked away, raising a hand in front of his face before he came to his senses enough to shoot up and look around in bewilderment.

Lucas stood watching him by the window with his arms crossed over his chest and head cocked, completely unimpressed.

Jens pulled the covers up over his chest with a sputter. “What are you doing?”

“My job,” Lucas said bluntly, rolling his eyes slightly at Jens’s gesture and pointedly turning away. “I didn’t pick you for the modest type. Does this mean I won’t actually have to be involved in your bathing?”

It was too early. There was too much in that little bit of speech to parse through with his sleep-addled brain. It was too early to be reminded of Lucas’s heavy sarcasm and persistent disrespect. He did not have the energy to step up to the taunting, nor was he awake enough to fret over Lucas connecting him and modesty and bathing all at once and how that made him jittery.

Jens let the covers slip away from him carefully, ignoring the sleep still clinging to his limbs to step out of bed, ambling his way to the table. Faux confidence carried him to where Lucas had laid out his breakfast. Well, ‘laid out’ was generous. He saw Lucas look over his shoulder at him as he lifted the plate and drew it with him to the head of the table. Only when he sat down did he allow himself to look back at Lucas, finding the boy’s gaze quickly glancing off his stomach.

“These are, obviously, private chambers.” Jens raised a brow. “You’re supposed to knock.”

Lucas met his eye and raised a brow back. “I did. Multiple times. And I called your name. I thought someone might have offed you in your sleep, and the door was open, so.”

Jens sunk slightly in his chair and repeated, “You’re supposed to knock. Wait to be invited. You’ll lose this position right away if you don’t obey basic courtesies like that.”

“Pity,” Lucas said dryly.

“It will be, when you’re dead.”

Lucas’s expression went blank at that, and he turned away to neaten the curtains. Jens glanced at his breakfast, then returned to watching Lucas’s back.

“The carriage was waiting for you?” he asked. “You found it okay?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Lucas replied calmly, his tone clipped with mock politeness. As he turned around and slowly came closer to Jens, however, some of the usual passive aggressive emotions slid from his expression. “It was better than walking would have been, I imagine.”

Jens tilted his head and failed to hide a small grin. He knew the chances were high that such a response would simply shut Lucas away again, but he couldn’t help it. “Is that a thank you?”

Lucas scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t retreat, which Jens took as both a positive answer and sign.

“You’re off to an okay start, otherwise,” Jens offered. “I mean, you’re here, and you managed to bring breakfast. Sander’s tour must have been worth something.”

Lucas hummed. “Sander met me at the door,” he admitted.

Jens laughed. Lucas’s lips twitched at the reaction, and Jens thought, pleaded, Maybe. Maybe, hopefully, eventually. It seemed unlikely that they would ever be friends; it seemed impossible that they wouldn’t have to be something.

Jens had earned himself a new companion, someone who would be able to take the edge off the loneliness of his life, and he had doomed himself to one less possible friend. It wouldn’t be a real option even if Lucas didn’t hate him—because Lucas was his servant and had his own friends, and Jens couldn’t really have any.

It cut his laughter down abruptly, and he had to remind himself that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about him. He couldn’t have let anything happen to Lucas, to any innocent, and that was all.

He managed to keep his smile, and gestured at the seat next to him, nudging the second plate towards Lucas. “Come eat.”

Lucas blinked at him. Then he pursed his lips. “I don’t need your scraps.”

“Well, good, because I usually try not to leave any. But you should eat your own breakfast before it goes cold.” Jens pushed the chair out with his foot, making Lucas step back.

“My own breakfast?”

Jens nodded at the plate, smile twitching. “What else was that supposed to be for?”

Lucas hesitated. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I thought…”

“You thought I was going to stuff my face while you’re expected to starve?” Jens guessed. When Lucas pursed his lips again instead of replying, Jens huffed in amusement. “The servants also get meals, Lucas. Usually they eat breakfast earlier, though it depends on the job. You would be expected to eat yours first before coming to me, so you’d be ready to start your duties.” His smile widened. “Here I was thinking you’d simply wanted to eat with me.”

There was a slight flush to Lucas’s cheeks, but he still managed a derisive huff at the statement. However, he finally moved, carefully taking the seat Jens had offered at his right hand. He pulled himself close to the table as Jens pushed the plate in front of him, then hesitated. “I had something to eat before I left home,” Lucas said.

Jens poked at his egg, then took a bite. “What did you have?”

“Just...some fruit,” Lucas mumbled.

“If you don’t want to eat it, that’s alright,” Jens said. “But it’s for you.” Then, “I can’t imagine fruit is all that filling. Have more when it’s available to you, Lucas.”

Lucas appeared as if he was going to argue again, then swallowed the words down and dug in. Jens watched him only long enough to make sure he didn’t actually dislike the food or wouldn’t change his mind, then politely glanced away and focused on his own meal. It was rude to watch someone else eat, is what he’d always thought, but he couldn’t help shooting occasional looks at Lucas, couldn’t help but notice the way he quickly devoured the food once given permission.

When he paused a moment to rub at his chest and clear his throat, Jens wordlessly poured a cup of water and handed it to him.

Lucas took it with a small, surprised ‘thank you’, and gazed at Jens for a moment before finishing off his food. It was, admittedly, less than Jens’s and probably not entirely as appetizing, but it was mainly down to Lucas’s speed that he was finished when Jens still had a quarter of his plate left. Lucas grew a little awkward at the realisation, but simply shrunk back in his chair and sipped at his water before asking, “What should I do, now?”

“Let your food sink,” Jens said. “There’s no rush. I won’t personally need you much today. You might be asked to do the polishing, but don’t let anyone bully you into cleaning anyone’s things but mine. That isn’t your job, and if anyone tries to make it one, tell me. Likewise with the stables and the horses. You can help out in any cases you want to, but we already have people doing those things, so just tend to whatever is mine. Okay?”

Lucas nodded hesitantly. He looked a bit nauseous; Jens wasn’t sure if he was overwhelmed or had just eaten too quickly.

He found himself trying to be reassuring regardless. “Sander will guide you around for the day, anyway.” He furrowed his brow, looking around at the door as the realisation occurred to him. “Isn’t he supposed to be here, anyway? And weren’t there supposed to be guards stationed outside my door?”

Lucas shrugged. “Sander said if it was my job to get you your breakfast now there was no reason for him to traipse after me. I guess the guards idea hasn’t been implemented yet.”

“My mother might not be happy,” Jens said, swallowing thickly. Trying to eat faster so Lucas wouldn’t have to sit and watch him was not working well. “But it’s her own mistake, so I guess we enjoy it while we can.”

This made Lucas quirk a brow at him, but this time he did not seem annoyed at Jens’s smile. In fact, it almost looked like he wanted to return it. Instead, Lucas looked away, taking in the room. It only lasted a moment before he was inevitably drawn back to Jens’s bare torso.

Jens sat back in his seat, and Lucas’s gaze flickered up to him. “Ask,” Jens said.

Lucas shook his head. “I won’t. If you want to tell me, then you will. It’s not any of my business.”

It wasn’t a surprising response, really; not from Lucas. Jens considered him, then prodded at the jagged scar on his stomach, cutting through the muscle like lightning. “I’m not modest,” he said eventually. “I’m just never sure of how people will react.”

“It’s just a scar,” Lucas replied. It wasn’t dismissive, nor was it comforting; it was fact. There was no judgment or pity in Lucas’s voice, none of the usual irritation or sarcasm. He showed a faint curiosity and nothing more. “I have one on the back of my shoulder from falling out of the bed when I was seven. One on my foot from where a calf stood on me. This—“ he brandished the inner side of his left arm at Jens “—from when I fell off a cart with Kes and broke my arm. Should I go on?”

Jens huffed, shaking his head. But he leaned his arms on the table and accepted the truths for one of his own. “I was stabbed when I was ten. They would have sliced me in half if they could’ve. Probably should have died, honestly. My father did.”

Lucas’s eyes darkened and he pressed his lips together.

It was something everyone knew, the trajedy that killed the King. It had been more of a battle than a war, because it had done nothing but silently brew until that single fight. The culprits had all died in the process or been caught in the aftermath, at least, and the kingdom had mourned and rallied together.

But then there was this.

“I didn’t know anyone else had been involved,” Lucas said, quietly. “I mean, with the rest of the family. I thought they were only after the King. No one ever said any different.”

Jens shrugged. It wasn’t as heavy as it once would have been. “I guess they thought I would just be the next King if they didn’t do something about it. And I would’ve been, if I hadn’t almost died. It was the only reason my mother took over.”

“You were ten,” Lucas said, dumbfounded. “You were a child. You couldn’t have been a leader or a threat.”

“I still don’t think I could be,” Jens returned with a slight laugh. “But different people will always expect different things.”

Lucas stared at him as if he had never seen him before, or was seeing something new. He leaned forward as if to settle on the table with Jens, but was interrupted by a knock and the door swinging open.

Jens whipped his gaze around, expecting to see Sander or one of the boys again, and instead catching sight of his sister.

Lies strode over to them with all her usual elegance, the pale green lace of her dress sleeves flowing around her arm as she lifted her hand in a greeting. She made a thorough examination of Lucas and no attempt to hide it, before settling an unimpressed look on Jens.

“You know,” Jens told her, “the purpose of knocking is completely defeated when you don’t wait for an answer.”

“I was worried you were being murdered,” Lies said, too loftily to be serious. She looked from Jens to Lucas. “But he’s harmless, isn’t he? Aside from the killer looks.”

Lucas snorted in surprise, then immediately covered his mouth with his hand. Jens blinked at him before staring sharply at his sister.

Lies rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know he’s not for me. A little...delicate, for my taste. Surely someone’s catch, though,” she quickly added in Lucas’s direction, who dismissed the assurances with a flick of his hand and an amused smile.

“Did you want something?” Jens asked, brow raised.

“I brought gifts,” Lies said, gesturing behind her to where two guards now stood in the doorway. Lucas sat up in his seat at the sight and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, and Jens shot another sharp look at his sister. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just following orders to take care of my little brother.”

“You’re not even ten minutes older than me, Lies.”

She, predictably, ignored him. “I also have orders to give.”

“What, so you aren’t just here to stick your nose in?”

“Well,” she shrugged, looking at Lucas again. “I had to see what you’ve made all the fuss about.”

“I haven’t made a fuss.”

“Are the orders for me?” Lucas asked, interrupting their bickering with an unusually polite tone and patient expression.

Of course, he would even like Jens’s twin better.

Lies indulged him with one of her most winning smiles. “No, no. For you, I simply wished to introduce myself.” She stepped further into the room, rounding behind Jens to Lucas’s side of the table. He rose to meet her, and her smile widened. “I’m Lies.”

Lucas bowed and held out his hand. Lies slipped her own into it easily, and Lucas brought it to his lips in a gentle kiss. His eyes flicked past Lies to Jens, pointed and mocking, and Jens felt himself bristle again. The understanding he had thought passed between them just moments ago slipped through his fumbling fingers as if it had never truly been within reach.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Princess,” Lucas said. Jens really might kill him himself, eventually. “I’m Lucas.”

Lies hummed, amused. “How chivalrous. You’ll have to be careful where you take him, he might be new competition.” She winked over her shoulder at Jens.

“I don’t go anywhere,” Jens said, confused. “Nor do I compete for anything.”

Lucas snorted again, and this time something thrummed in Jens’s chest.

Meanwhile, Lies sighed and ruffled Jens’s hair, finally parting from Lucas’s careful hold. “Pardon, Lucas, it seems like I do have an order for you. Try in some of your time here to make this one less boring, will you? This is joyless.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible, Your Highness, but for you I’ll try.”

Lies beamed at Lucas, clapped her hands once, then pointed sternly at a scowling Jens. “And, for you, mother dearest has ordered a family lunch.”

Jens blinked. It wasn’t entirely unusual that they would have such family get-togethers, but it wasn’t entirely usual either. They were reserved for special dates, birthdays and anniversaries and the like, or for announcements their mother wished to break to them before anyone else. It was certainly no one’s birthday, and as far as Jens knew, it was not an anniversary either. “Moyo and Aaron are still here. I’m supposed to meet them for lunch before they leave again.”

“Don’t argue with me, Jens, I’m just the messenger. Take it up with her if you want.” Lies shrugged, already on her way back out the door.

Jens looked back to Lucas, who had already returned to facing him with his arms crossed. Jens tucked his own arms around his stomach, his thumb absently rubbing over the scar there. He was not modest, and likewise, he was not self-conscious, but then again, he never had anyone looking at him that wasn’t his family or Robbe, with Senne and Sander being the odd exception. None of the maids have ever really seen him in such undress, even, despite readying baths and bedsheets and the more complicated clothing he was so often forced to wear; this was outer garments or just the buttons, laces and ties he could not manage himself.

He felt barer when it was Lucas. This wasn’t exactly embarrassing or scary or uncomfortable. He wouldn’t have sat with Lucas so long if it had been, and he wouldn’t have mentioned the marring of his skin himself. But it was unfamiliar; it was new. He felt twitchy and hot in the face of it. Unsure.

Thankfully, Lucas was as unaffected as ever and spoke up first. “I can see the similarity.”

Jens raised a brow. “We’re not identical.” Lies’s hair and eyes were lighter, and she wasn’t quite as tall, and her face seemed both softer and more delicate than Jens’s at once. There were similarities amongst all of them, but they bore no closer resemblance to each other than they did to their mother or Lotte.

“No, far from it,” Lucas agreed. “She is much more likable.”

Jens resisted the urge to throw food at him.

Lucas’s lips twitched as if he could tell. “Does this mean I won’t have to bring you lunch?”

“No,” Jens sighed. “It also means I won’t be able to guide you through anything until after that. But I’m sure that doesn’t disappoint you.”

Lucas simply shrugged.

“I’ll tell Sander. You could have lunch with the boys, if you want,” Jens suggested.

“Could I?”

It wasn’t hopeful. It was not a request, not curiosity, not to seek permission. It was dubious, deadpan disbelief. Jens supposed Lucas was right not to expect the offer to be casual or genuine; servants were there to serve.

“You would have been there with me, anyway. You are expected to stick with Sander for the most part. And you have to eat, regardless. Join them with Sander, if you want to.”

Lucas considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. What until then?”

“First,” Jens rose to his feet, “you’ll help me find one of these ridiculous shirts my mother likes and then help me get it on.” He moved towards his wardrobe, and looked over his shoulder when Lucas did not follow.

Lucas blinked at him. “Seriously?”

Jens huffed a laugh. “Welcome to the life of a Prince.”

|*~^~*|

The only saving grace about having lunch with his family was Lotte. She had beamed at Jens when he came in, then immediately scowled as he ruffled her hair. Now she was perched next to him at the table, one foot hooked up onto the chair out of sight of their mother who, of course, sat at the head. Lies sat across from him, managing to look both bored and completely composed at once.

It was becoming concerning. They had gotten through the first half of their food on idle chit-chat, and Ellis hadn’t told them why they were here.

Lies, like Jens, kept flicking looks at her. Like she was waiting, but not like she was curious. Like she knew.

“Care to fill us in?” Jens eventually prompted.

His mother looked up at him as Lies faltered with her food. “Pardon?” Ellis asked.

Jens flicked a hand between them. “Whatever it is we’re all gathered about. Whatever you’ve already obviously talked to Lies about.”

Ellis sighed, considering her plate before passing a hand over her mouth. She folded her arms over each other and looked at him steadily. “You are going to need to start preparing to take over the throne.”

Jens blinked.

“Isn’t Jens already doing that?” Lotte asked, with the easy, childish curiosity Jens didn’t feel he was allowed to have.

It made their mother gentle, which shouldn’t have been a relief. Jens knew how much she adored her youngest daughter; even if she didn’t have much time to show it. “Of course,” she began to explain. “It has always been the path he’s been on. But I mean, really start preparing. Deciding what kind of leader you will be...and who you will have by your side.”

“But…” Jens hated how small he sounded, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Why? You aren’t going anywhere. What’s the sudden change?”

“You can never be too prepared,” Ellis said lightly. “Besides, you can assume the throne any time. It is not always a passage that only follows death.”

“But there’s no need. And I don’t want to.”

Lies huffed. It sounded considerably less amused than when she’d been trading teases with Lucas in his chambers this morning. “You know this isn’t about what anyone wants, Jens.”

Jens frowned at her, feeling shame and irritation bubble in his chest at once. It didn’t dissipate when his mother covered his hand with her own.

“She’s right. You’ve always known your duty.” She took a breath that turned into a sigh. “And the kingdom has always been restless under the rule of a single queen. You know it was never supposed to be my throne.”

It threw him back in his chair. Of course he knew—he’d admitted the same fact to Lucas just this morning. The realisation made him dizzy now.

The kingdom was restless about their Queen?

It seemed impossible. Since his father’s death, there had never been an attempt on the throne. The kingdom had never been more cohesive, more peaceful. It had never run smoother than it has while guided by the flick and flow of Ellis’s hand. They loved her. Jens heard the nasty comments about their family in general, about any kind of royalty, but even those people always held a grudging respect for the woman after meeting her.

But Jens didn’t go anywhere. He didn’t see anyone, not really. No one that wasn’t already close to their family.

If there were rumbles of disloyalty, how would he know?

If those people existed and discovered Ellis had somewhat stolen the throne, what would happen?

How stupid and reckless could Jens be, and why did Lucas specifically seem to bring it out in him?

He realised immediately and with abrupt clarity that he absolutely could not admit this to his mother, and pressed his lips tightly shut.

Lucas didn’t even care. He didn’t say anything about that. You chose to trust him only a day ago. Don’t change your mind now. He hasn’t given you a reason to yet.

He didn’t bother acknowledging that by the time ‘yet’ arrived, it might be too late. It wouldn’t help.

“I...I wouldn’t rule any differently,” he said, swallowing. “And Senne would just move into his father’s position, right? He and Sander would be there, and Robbe.”

Ellis smiled, but it looked more like a pursing of lips. “Of course, I assumed as much. But that’s not what I mean, darling. A single king may be an improvement, but the ideal kingdom is run by a king and his queen.”

Jens stared at her. “Hang on. You’ve arranged this to tell me I need to get a wife?”

Lotte sunk away at the snap in his voice, and he glanced at her in apology. Lies seemed entirely unaffected, sitting with her chin propped on bridged hands.

“You’re the Prince, Jens,” Ellis said, stroking his hand gently. “And you’re beautiful, and charming, and the people love you. Everyone has already been waiting years for you to find your Princess.”

“Hoping they’ll be the lucky one,” Lies added, with only half the sarcasm Jens was sure she wanted to use.

Jens shook his head. “It’s not my fault I just haven’t met anyone like that.”

“Well.” His mother drew her hand away. “That’s why I’ve invited King Ackermans and his daughter.”

Oh. Oh, no. No way.

Lotte understood just as quickly. “Wait, Jens doesn’t even get to choose?” She seemed appalled at the idea, leaving Jens feeling very justified in his own anger.

“It’s not set in stone,” Ellis said. “But I think it is a good match.”

Jens’s fury must have been showing on his face. She hastened to add, “You and Jana used to be such lovely friends when you were children, Jens, surely you remember.”

Yes, Jens thought, when we were children. The last time he had seen Jana was before his father died—a good ten years ago. The last time she had come from the bordering kingdom was for his father’s funeral, when Jens hadn’t even gotten to see her, still on his own deathbed.

“You’re lucky that it can be this simple,” Lies said.

Jens gritted his teeth. “Easy for you to say when nothing rests on you,” he snapped.

Lies glared at him, clearly prepared to retort, before Lotte leaned towards her and quietly pleaded, “Don’t fight.”

Her mouth snapped shut, and she glanced at her little sister before carefully relaxing in her chair.

Jens didn’t want to fight, either, but he was too annoyed to settle. He pushed away from the table, the scrape of the chair loud and grating on his nerves further. He pointedly avoided Lies’s apologetic eyes and Lotte’s crestfallen expression, but Ellis never knew how to go ignored.

“Jens,” she called after him. “You haven’t even finished your lunch, for pity’s sake, sit down!”

He let the door slam shut behind him.

|*~^~*|

Robbe met Lucas’s eyes as he crept through the open doors to the stables and quickly raised a finger to his lips. He was impressed when Lucas gave absolutely no reaction—no questioning gaze, no raised brow, no quirk of the lips. Lucas simply glanced over him as if he wasn’t there, exactly how he wanted.

It made it all too easy for him to creep up on Sander.

He made it to the knight entirely unnoticed and quickly curled his fingers around Sander’s sides, digging in with enough pressure to feel like a jab and enough lightness that it wouldn’t hurt. The result was exactly as intended; Sander jolted and whirled on Robbe with his hand moving to grasp a sword that wasn’t there. Just as quickly, the hand was around Robbe’s throat. Then it dropped even quicker.

“I could have killed you,” Sander said, with his usual brand of over-expression that could have just as easily been under. The tone was indignant, the words irritated, the pout of the lips a whine, the light in the eyes fond. All were out in force, and all conflicted and made each other lesser.

Robbe snorted in response. “Uh-huh.”

“Seriously, Robbe,” Sander frowned. He was fixing Robbe’s collar with one hand; the other was slipping around Robbe’s wrist. “You need to stop with that.”

“Because it annoys you that I can still do it so easily?”

Sander sniffed. “I knew somebody was there.”

“No, you didn’t,” Lucas said.

Robbe had forgotten he was there, but when he shifted his eyes from Sander he saw the boy was grooming Jens’s horse and not even looking at them. He seemed caught up in the brushing motion, petting his other hand along the horse’s side absentmindedly. He looked more content than Robbe had seen him so far.

“How would you know?” Sander demanded.

Lucas looked over to raise a brow at him. “I was here.”

Sander opened his mouth to argue, then simply huffed and waved Lucas off, returning to where he’d been fixing a strap on his own saddle. He didn’t quite let go of Robbe right away, so Robbe was drawn to his side in the process. He couldn’t say he minded.

He poked Sander’s side. “Don’t be mad,” he requested.

Sander huffed again. It faded midway as Robbe leaned his chin on Sander’s shoulder and knocked their heads together lightly. Sander’s hands paused for a second, and he was smiling by the time they resumed their task.

“That’s better,” Robbe grinned, pushing himself away to wander towards Lucas. “Are you two joining us for lunch? I’d rather not listen to Moyo and Aaron alone.”

“You can’t survive a day without me, that’s all,” Sander called over his shoulder. Robbe glanced back just in time to catch Sander’s wink and rolled his eyes, despite the warmth in his stomach and his growing smile. Sander hung up his saddle and returned to Robbe’s side, knocking their shoulders together, as tactile as Robbe himself.

Robbe loved him.

He loved Jens, and he loved his mother, and he loved his other friends, but none of them were like Sander. Losing his mother would break his heart, and losing Jens would be something like losing a limb; he’d never function the same.

But Sander…Robbe couldn’t bring himself to imagine what it would be like to lose Sander.

He wasn’t sure what that meant.

He just knew he felt content when Sander easily pulled him to his side, softer today without the usual chainmail or cloak. It was just a washed-out black tunic for Robbe to rest his cheek against. Soft and worn; comfortable and familiar.

He was startled when Lucas spoke. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Jens told you it was, didn’t he?” Sander said. “He’s not testing you or anything. He’s not that smart.”

Robbe made a small sound to rebuke him, which Sander predictably ignored.

Lucas only huffed, then hesitantly shook his head. “I know Jens said so, but that doesn’t mean…it isn’t really your duty to babysit me. We don’t have to be friends.”

Sander’s hand tightened for half a second on Robbe’s shoulder, and a pained look crossed his face. Robbe understood. Sander had been just as unsure of their kindness in the beginning.

“No one has to be,” Robbe agreed, quickly. “But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re asking you if you want to join us for lunch because we’d like you to.”

“And because you’ve already been brushing that horse for seventeen minutes. You are going to get tired of it eventually,” Sander added.

Lucas’s hands dropped quickly to his sides, and he looked at Sander in bewilderment. “How would you even know that?”

Sander snorted. “I was here,” he lightly mocked.

Lucas narrowed his eyes at him, but his lips were twitching. Robbe got it—Sander was irresistible. It made his heart swell with pride and clench at once. Something in him tripped and faltered as Sander left him to take the brush from Lucas and put it away before clasping Lucas’s shoulder.

The fears he’d developed yesterday seemed real, all of a sudden. He’d half-talked to Jens about it while lying on his bed, while Sander had still been missing—busy with Lucas. He’d been overthinking it while Sander was away with Lucas and Jens. He could picture it with sudden clarity, now. It wasn’t just new duties that would be taking up Sander and Jens’s time; it was a whole person. A person with whom feelings and care could be involved. A person that would be involved with all of them, even if he had only been altering one dynamic.

Robbe curled his arms around his stomach and wrapped the feeling away. Neither Sander or Jens would leave him behind. The notion on its own was ridiculous.

Lucas could be Sander’s friend, because he could be Robbe’s too. It was way simpler than his brain was trying to make him think.

“Robin,” Sander said, in that way that suggested it wasn’t the first time. He was smiling at Robbe, holding out a hand, and Robbe reached for it without a thought. Sander gave him a gentle tug. “Coming?”

Robbe fell into step alongside Sander and allowed himself to enjoy the light sweep of Sander’s thumb over his knuckles before pulling his hand away. Lucas hesitantly followed along by his other side, pulling too-short sleeves down over his wrists and watching his feet. He flickered a glance at Robbe, and his shoulders loosened when Robbe smiled instead of looking away.

“You’re his best friend, right?” Lucas asked after a second. “Prince Jens, I mean. You’ve lived here a long time but you just genuinely like him, don’t you?”

Robbe blinked, surprised by the question. He probably shouldn’t have been. Everyone knew him; he realised that. Everyone certainly knew Jens, and they knew who Robbe was to him. Robbe occasionally forgot that this didn’t mean they were known, and it definitely did not mean they were automatically liked.

Lucas had every right and reason to be skeptical. Robbe should have expected it and been prepared for it, but even Sander had never questioned them much.

But this question was easy.

“I love Jens,” he agreed. “He might as well be my brother. But it isn’t just that we grew up together or I feel I owe him anything. Jens is one of the best people I know. He always has been. There’s plenty to like about him.”

“Well, now, let’s not get carried away,” Sander interrupted. “Others here are just as likable, if not more so.”

Lucas raised his brows as Robbe rolled his eyes. Neither could hold back a smile. “You, for example?” Robbe said, already dripping sarcasm.

Sander placed a hand to his chest while tugging the library door open. “Why thank you, Robbe, that’s so sweet of you to say. But I was talking about you.”

Robbe’s prepared retort died on his tongue, and he felt hot as Sander grinned down at him. He resisted the urge to raise his hands to cover his cheeks.

Lucas simply hummed his agreement. “You are the nicest. Even without knowing you—the kingdom adores you. I can understand it.”

“Understand what?” Moyo questioned from inside. He wiggled his fingers in a wave when they all turned startled gazes on him. “Have we just swapped one pretty boy for another?”

Aaron slumped back next to him with a groan. “Don’t tell me Jens is actually bailing again.”

“It didn’t seem like he had a choice,” Lucas said, in Jens’s defense. He pulled a face once he realised this.

Robbe considered him. He hadn’t known how to respond to Lucas’s compliment, and he was glad they had been interrupted so that he didn’t have to. But there was something about the way Lucas had said it and how he had asked about Jens in the first place that made Robbe turn back. “Why can’t you understand why people like Jens?”

Lucas blinked over at him in surprise. Robbe just smiled sheepishly at him, and Lucas shrugged, uncomfortable.

“Do people like Jens should be the first question,” Sander said. Robbe punched his shoulder.

“They do, I suppose,” Lucas admitted. “My friends didn’t have the highest opinion, or I guess just didn’t really care, but then…I guess they like him alright.”

“You don’t,” Robbe said.

“I didn’t say that.”

Moyo nodded as if Lucas had said something very smart. “Good. Probably shouldn’t give them any more reasons to accuse you of treason.”

Lucas pulled another face.

Sander tugged them both to sit down. “Okay, continue while eating, please. I need to move afterwards.”

“Move?” Moyo and Robbe asked.

Sander looked to Robbe. “Jens and I told you, didn’t we? I’m moving rooms closer to his because of this whole business?” He gestured at Lucas.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no big deal,” Sander shrugged.

Robbe watched him, not feeling quite as sure.

Sander denied Lucas’s offer of help, urging him to take time to finish his lunch (unnecessarily—Lucas had devoured his food) and then to enjoy the short time he would have free of both Jens and Sander. Robbe stood up to follow, however, and Sander didn’t argue with him.

Now they had half of Sander’s things moved in a single trip between rooms, and Robbe was pondering the best way to ask Sander if he also thought this was a terrible idea.

He settled on asking, “Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”

Sander dumped some of his clothes in the wardrobe and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? This room’s better than mine. I think they’ve even got a comfier mattress. Why is that kind of special treatment wasted on guests?”

Robbe smiled slightly, but tried not to fall off track. “I’m not just talking about the room.”

Sander turned to face him slowly, moving shirts from one hand to the other. “What then?”

“All this is a bit…I don’t know. It was kind of a rash decision, right? It’s a lot of…responsibility.”

Sander snorted. “Are you saying I’m not responsible enough, Robin?”

He couldn’t believe Sander was making him spell it out when he knew exactly what Robbe was talking about. “You’re not healthy enough, and you know it,” he breathed.

Sander’s face went blank as his hands froze. He stared at Robbe, who refused to look away. Sander broke the gaze first, turning back to his wardrobe and fiddling with a hanger. He said nothing.

“Sander,” Robbe whispered, imploring. “You can’t take this on. Never mind the pressure, but you can’t be expected to be available all the time. And now switching rooms? It’s too much.”

“It’s very little for them to ask of me, Robbe,” Sander argued, abandoning his task to turn and face him. “I’m a knight. This is nothing.”

Robbe shook his head. He had known Sander would fight him on this, but it still always hurt when the older man refused to listen. “You know it’s not. Sander, you—“

“It’s been months,” Sander cut him off.

His voice was quiet and strong at once. He looked so small just then, even though he was obviously determined. He’d straightened his shoulders and was holding Robbe’s eye, and still, something lurked underneath. There was a silent desperation, a wildness that Sander had always seemed to contain, confined tightly in his chest but always threatening to explode. It was there in his eyes, a plead mingled with the insecurity he truly felt.

It wasn’t just that he wanted Robbe to believe him. He wanted Robbe to convince him. To reassure him that he was, in fact, right, and more than capable of holding the weight he’d placed on himself.

But Robbe cared about him too much to do that.

“I know,” he said softly. “But it has been months before.”

Sander instantly shook his head, insisting, “Never this long. It’s different.”

Robbe closed his eyes. It wasn’t, and it wouldn’t be, regardless of how much Sander tried to will it into existence. Robbe knew it; he’d already seen it. He couldn’t let Sander believe it and be reckless with himself as a result.

But what more could he say?

I’ve seen it firsthand. What happens when you can’t get out of bed for a day, then two, then a week? There’s no way of hiding it, now—what would be your excuse?

What made you think you could do it, in the first place?

“Mama…” Robbe started, trying not to be hurt by how Sander rolled his eyes and turned away. “She’s been well this long before and it didn’t last either, Sander. It’s not—we don’t even know what—“

“I know,” Sander cut him off, moving towards him abruptly. His hands fluttered by his sides as he stopped in front of Robbe. “I wasn’t thinking of that, I didn’t realise…I didn’t think of how it would be necessary to be around all the time. But I can’t take it back now, Robbe.”

Robbe shook his head. “Of course you can. Now is the perfect time to take it back, before it gets too far.”

“No one else will treat Lucas right.”

“You can’t know that.”

“They’ve already shown it! He’s unhappy enough here, and Jens is a disaster, and I committed to them both.”

Robbe swallowed, shaking his head more. Trying to think. “What about Senne?”

“He has enough duties. Besides, it’s his brother involved in all of this.”

“They don’t even get along. I’m not even sure they speak.”

Sander sighed. “They do, but that’s not the point. Just—“ he curled his hand around Robbe’s wrist. He was no longer looking him in the eye. “—don’t doubt me. I won’t be able to do it if you don’t think I can.”

Robbe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Then he dropped his head against Sander’s shoulder and sighed back. He slipped his hands around to Sander’s back and curled them in his tunic. “Sorry. You know I think you can do anything. I just…”

“I know.” Sander hugged him back, tipping his cheek against Robbe’s head. “You’re probably right, though.”

“No, Sander—“

“I hate it, but I know you’re right. I know I’m not—that it won’t just—“ Sander broke off on a sound of frustration. Robbe squeezed his waist. Sander squeezed back. “But maybe it won’t happen. That I’m needed and I can’t…I don’t think it will be this important for that long. They’re not even making me keep an eye on Lucas every second now, and it’ll ease up from here.”

“But if it does happen?”

“I’d hoped I’ll have you,” Sander admitted quietly. “And I—I could probably talk to Jens, if I have to.”

Robbe tried not to sound too eager. “He would understand. They could help.”

Sander pressed his face harder against Robbe’s head. “There isn’t any helping this, Robbe.”

“You don’t know that. My mother, she used to be worse. I mean, she still gets bad, but it used to be constant, Sander. And more extreme. But she has help now.”

Sander didn’t say anything, but his head still lay heavy. Robbe hugged him tighter. Sander clenched his hands around Robbe’s shoulders. “Just promise me I’ll have you,” he eventually whispered.

Robbe ignored the swoop of his stomach, and the burn of his nerves where Sander’s thumb brushed bare skin, and whispered back, “Always.”

#van der stoffels #vds #sobbe #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au

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kiapet2 · 4 years

Text

The Heaviness We’ve Known

Patton had a lot of ideas for what he might do for his weekend by himself, but having his ex-husband’s son show up on his doorstep sure wasn’t one of them.

Pairings: Parental Moxiety, Divorced Moceit, Parental Anxceit

Word Count: 2016

Warnings: None

Crossposting this to Tumblr since there seems to be a good Sanders Sides fanfic community here.

AO3 Link

Patton had a lot of ideas for what he might do for his weekend by himself, but having his ex-husband’s son show up on his doorstep sure wasn’t one of them.

It was supposed to be a quiet night, just Patton and his empty house. It’s the twins’ week with Janus, which wouldn’t be so bad except that Logan is off at another one of his conferences. Patton knows they’re a great opportunity and all- especially considering the university usually pays for them- but do there really need to be so many?

But Patton should support his little brother’s career, so he told Logan it was fine, he’d just watch rom-coms and catch up on sleep. He’s settled in to do just that when he is interrupted by the hammering at his door.

“Hey,” Virgil says when the door opens, giving a lopsided smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Can I come in?”

Patton blinks. “Oh, um, of course,” he says, and Virgil barely waits for the response before he’s stalking past Patton and into the house.

It seems like every time Patton sees Virgil the boy has shot up another few inches. His hair, purple this time, is half-hidden under a hoodie pulled up against the spring night’s chill, and as Patton watches he heaves a bulging backpack off one shoulder and onto the foyer floor.

“Virgil,” Patton says, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? Janus never told me he was going to-”

“He didn’t bring me,” Virgil snaps, kicking his shoes off with more force than seems necessary. His socks are mismatched, as if put on in a hurry. “I came here myself.”

“You walked all the way here?” Patton says. “Virgil, that’s not safe.”

“I took a bus.” Virgil flops down onto the stairs. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

Patton opens his mouth to argue, but a closer look at Virgil makes him hesitate. The boy is slumped against the wall, his hand rubbing up and down his arm as if trying to soothe himself. Virgil isn’t one to risk something like this for no reason- whatever happened, it must have seriously freaked him out.

Patton sinks down to the stairs next to him.

“Talk to me,” he says softly.

Virgil turns his face to the wall. “I just- I can’t stay there anymore, alright? I can’t. ”

“At home?”

Virgil nods.

Patton shifts so he’s kneeling in front of Virgil and places a hand on his knee.

“Virgil, could you look at me for a moment?”

Virgil nervously turns to face him, and Patton meets his eyes.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me, alright?”

Virgil nods again, his eyes widening.

“Did your dad hurt you in any way?”

Virgil reels back in shock. “What? No!”

Patton feels his shoulders sag in relief, and he sits heavily back down on the stairs.

“Okay. That’s- that’s good.”

Virgil runs a hand through his hair.

“Look, it wasn’t anything like that. I just... we were arguing again and I couldn’t stand it anymore so I just packed up my things and- and left. And I’m not going back. I want to stay with you.”

His voice cracks at the last part, and for a moment Patton has a flash of the Virgil he first met all those years ago- a timid, gap-toothed little thing who had glared at Patton fiercely from behind his father’s leg. It had taken all of two seconds for the kiddo to lodge himself securely into Patton’s heart; the whole step-dad thing hadn’t seemed to matter, back then.

Then his marriage fell apart, and suddenly it mattered a whole heck of a lot.

“Kiddo...” Patton says, pained.

Virgil jumps to his feet. “Look, I won’t be, like, obnoxious or anything, all I really do is listen to music in my room anyways, and I know taking care of a kid is fu- is freaking expensive but I can get a job and I babysit the little terrors all the time so I can do that here and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Patton says, knees creaking as he also stands, “None of that. I’d love to have you live here. But I’m not sure Janus would approve.”

Virgil scowls. “He can go choke for all I care. I’ll never know what the hell someone like you saw in that bastard. ” He spits the last word out, eyes flashing.

“Now kiddo,” Patton admonishes, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but there’s no need to use that kind of language. He is still your father.”

Patton knows it’s the wrong thing to say when Virgil’s face shutters closed, shoulders hunching as he draws back into his hoodie.

“Whatever Dad, if I wanted a lecture I would’ve stayed home.”

Patton holds back a flinch at the mocking title. Virgil doesn’t mean it, he reminds himself. The kiddo’s just having a hard time right now, and Patton’s the nearest target.

He forces a smile onto his face. “Well, this is a cookie situation if ever I saw one. Gimme a sec.”

Patton goes into the kitchen and grabs his cookie tin, the one Virgil used to teasingly call his “old person box”. He brings the tin into the living room along with a jug of milk and some glasses, laying everything out on the coffee table.

A slight smile pulls at the corner of Virgil’s mouth as he runs a hand over the tin. “I didn’t know you still had this”.

“Of course!” Patton says seriously. “Cookies are a vital part of any household.”

He nudges the tin closer to Virgil, giving him a wink. “Go ahead, take as many as you want. I won’t tell on you.”

Patton keeps up a steady stream of idle chatter as he and Virgil drink milk and eat more cookies than is probably healthy. Finally Virgil lays the cookie he’s nibbling down and glares at it like it’s the source of all his problems.

“You’re going to tell my dad, aren’t you.” It isn’t a question.

Patton sighs. “I’ve got to, kiddo.”

He holds up a hand to forestall Virgil’s protest. “I know you’re not on good terms with him right now, but he’s still your legal guardian. Keeping you here without his okay is kidnapping, and I’d rather not lose our visits.”

Patton can see Virgil’s shoulders rising nearly to his ears, the boy retreating into himself despite all of Patton’s efforts to draw him out.

Patton smiles again in what he hopes is a comforting expression.

“I’ll just call and talk to him, alright? We’ll try to work something out.” And maybe Janus will be able to tell him what the heck is actually going on.

He reaches forward to pat Virgil’s shoulder, freezing and withdrawing when Virgil pulls away from the touch.

“Why don’t you finish your milk and cookies, alright? I’ll be quick.”

Patton carries his own glass back into the kitchen and then reluctantly pulls out his cell phone. The number isn’t in his contacts, but he still knows it by heart.

“Hello?” a familiar voice says after the first ring.

“I have something of yours,” Patton says.

Janus hums, nonchalant. “I take it Virgil arrived safely then?”

It’s been a while, but Patton still recognizes Janus emotionally deflecting when he hears it. He puts on his Dad Voice, perfected over years of dealing with the twins.

“What’s going on here, Janus?”

A sigh. “There’s been a... slight disagreement.”

Patton runs a hand down his face. “I take it he ran away? I can take him back, but first let me-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Janus says flatly.

“Please tell me you didn’t throw him out.”

“Of course not!” Janus hisses. “You of all people should know I would never.”

“Of course I do,” Patton says, “But what am I supposed to think here, Jan? Nothing about this situation looks good.”

Janus sighs again, heavier this time. “I’m aware.”

Patton waits as the line goes silent, Janus clearly thinking over his next words. Finally he says, smooth and matter-of-fact,

“Virgil has made it quite clear that I am a terrible excuse for a parent and living with you would be preferable to our current arrangement in every way.”

His voice takes on a bitter edge. “It must be comfortingly easy to idolize someone when you only see them at their best.”

Patton’s stomach drops. “Janus, I’m so sorry, I never meant to-”

“Oh, do be quiet.” Patton can almost hear Janus’ dismissive hand wave. “It’s hardly your fault he’s behaving like a naïve child.”

Patton winces at that.

“Nevertheless, while I absolutely adore Virgil’s current actions, he’s old enough to make the choice of guardians for himself. Of course, if you are unable or unwilling to provide for him I will pick him up immediately, but-”

A note of vulnerability creeps into his voice. “I think this might be what he needs, right now.”

Patton’s heart clenches.

“Of course,” he says softly. “He can stay as long as he wants.”

Janus lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

“Janus,” Patton says hesitantly, “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, and I know it’s not really my place, but, if you need someone to talk to...”

“That won’t be necessary,” Janus says, and it’s the sound of a wall slamming back into place. “Virgil should have an overnight bag with a change of clothes and his anxiety medication. I’ll bring over the rest of his things tomorrow.”

Patton closes his eyes against a familiar pain. “Alright. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“I guess you will.”

The silence stretches between them, raw and gaping.

Then, so quiet Patton almost thinks he imagined it: “Take care of him?”

Patton smiles sadly. “With everything I have.”

“Thank you, Patton.”

The line goes dead.

Patton leans his head against the wall for a moment and lets himself breathe. He turns when he hears Virgil’s footsteps, hastily scrubbing at his eyes and putting on a bright smile.

“Looks like you’ll be living here for a bit, kiddo! You can stay in Logan’s room for now.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy about that,” Virgil quips, smiling slightly as he tries and fails to feign cool nonchalance. He looks so much like his father that Patton nearly bursts into tears again.

He winks instead. “That’s what he gets for going off sailing!”

Virgil raises one eyebrow. “Sailing?”

Patton grins. “You know, since he has that scholar-ship!”

Virgil’s smile comes out completely and he quickly covers it with one hand, only managing to make himself look more adorable in the process.

“Guess I’ll move my stuff up, then,” he says, grabbing his bag and dashing up the stairs.

“Don’t touch the chemistry sets!” Patton calls after him.

This could be good for both of them, Patton thinks, smiling as he hears Virgil rummaging above. The house has seemed so much emptier since his baby brother went and grew up on him- not that Logan hasn’t always acted like someone ten years Patton’s senior, he thinks fondly. And of course, any time he gets to spend with Virgil is a blessing.

Virgil’s footsteps are slower coming down the stairs, and they come to a halt as he reaches the bottom and nervously meets Patton’s gaze.

“So... what happens now?”

“What happens now is that I’m ordering pizza and then we’re watching a movie,” Patton says, holding up his phone. “What toppings do you want?”

Virgil’s nervous expression resolves into a smirk. “Hawaiian.”

“Heresy, from my own stepson!” Patton gasps, letting a hand fly to his breast.

Virgil snickers, and this time he doesn’t pull away when Patton closes the distance between them and draws him into a hug. He’s so much taller than Patton remembers, but despite everything he's still Patton’s little boy.

“It’s gonna be alright, kiddo,” Patton whispers. “I’m here for you.”

Virgil’s arms tighten around him.

“I know, Dad. I know.”

#sanders sides #patton sanders #ts patton #virgil sanders #ts virgil #janus sanders #ts janus #parental moxiety #moceit #parental anxceit #sanders sides fic #fanfiction #my writing

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killing-all-joy · 4 years

Text

Dancing at 2 a.m. in our Pajamas...

I was inspired by this prompt by @sanderssides-prompts that I saw two weeks ago. I write really slow, so here it is now. I strayed a bit from the prompt, but I hope y'all like it! It’s really just fluffy Roceit. [Edit: here’s part two!]

(cw: janus is a swear-snake so swearing tw)

Janus rubbed lazily at his eyes. He was beyond irritated—for some reason, his mess of a brain decided it would be a good idea to wake up after only three hours of sleep. It was two in the morning, it was raining outside, and he had a lot to do the following day. His brain was running on very little sleep, but despite the small number of things he was able to consider clearly in his mind, he knew that he would be unable to return to his slumber without a substantial period of leaving his room. He was very well aware that he had to reach a higher state of awakeness than he was at now to be able to go back to sleep. It would never make any sense to him, but he complied because he hated sleep deprivation.

He trudged over to his closet and threw on a yellow sweatshirt over his sleep shirt. Then, clothed in that sweatshirt, a pair of black sweatpants, and fluffy black socks, he sunk out of his room, deciding not to bother with his hat. No one would be in the kitchen anyway, and he had decided with a look in a mirror that his hair, while fluffy as ever, wasn't too horribly messed up from sleep.

He planned on getting a glass of ice water, watching an episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender at a very low volume, pacing the living room a couple of times, and then returning to his room to fall back asleep.

His mind seemed to only get fuzzier; Janus hardly registered his present actions in any shape or form. He walked into the blurred haze that was the mindscape living room, grabbing a cylindrical glass from a cabinet and clumsily sliding on the tiled floor over to the freezer. He opened the door, flinching at how cold the damn thing was for his serpentine physiology. He grabbed three pieces of ice and dropped them into his glass. One fell on the floor at his carelessness so he kicked it under the refrigerator and grabbed another to replace it. He walked over to the sink, and after three incidents of fingers slipping on the metal handle, turned on the water and filled his glass. He hissed and immediately turned off the water when it started to overflow.

He sipped the cold water so it wouldn't spill onto the floor and walked away from the sink, deciding to drink in the living room. He stopped short at the door-less doorway, finally realizing that against his predictions, there was someone awake at this hour and occupying the living room.

Of all people it could be, it was Roman.

Just his luck.

His brain could hardly register just how unlucky that was. Nor could it realize that sinking out would probably be the best thing to do in that situation. Roman, his old enemy, his friend (ish), his crush: hateful, annoying, funny, talented, lovely, handso-

"Hey."

Janus' sleepy thoughts halted. He tried to meet Roman's eyes, but likely failed because he could only make out the vague outline of a face. He tried his best to show acknowledgement, but was too tired to put much effort into it.

"Why are you awake?" Roman asked from where he was sitting on an armchair.

Janus thought about that for a second, his brain refusing to remember at this time. Eyebrows furrowed, he tried his best to retrace his steps. His eyes then fell on the glass in his hand, thoughts calming as they recalled. Janus held up his water glass to indicate that it was dehydration that woke him and then made a noise, trying to ask Roman the same question.

"Ah yes, dehydration: the more vicious demon in the early hours of the morning," Roman said with a strained smile. He then bit his lip, knowing Janus wanted to know his reason for being awake as well. "I, uh, couldn't sleep. Too many exciting thoughts, too little time...the price of being Creativity, y'know?"

Janus did know. Or, at least, he was pretty sure Fully Awake Janus knew. (Fully Awake Janus could not count the number of times he'd got up for a glass of water and ended up finding Remus setting something on fire at some ungodly hour. To Fully Awake Janus, it would follow that Roman would be similar in regards to insomnia.)

Janus made a noise of understanding, shuffling over to the sofa. He clumsily set his glass on the coffee table (the contents almost spilling as he fumbled with its placement) and collapsed onto the cushions.

“Are you sure that you shouldn’t go back to sleep, Boa Conflictor? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were sleepwalking.”

When he figured out what the nickname was saying and why it fitted him, Janus snorted. He shook his head to indicate a negative to Roman’s question. “Need water,” he mumbled, taking a sip from the glass.

“Makes sense,” said Roman, moving from the armchair where he was sitting to the sofa next to Janus. “But you should go back to sleep immediately after.”

Janus shook his head again. “Won’t be able. Tried, first need to stuff.”

Roman chuckled. “’Need to stuff’? We better get you stuffing soon, or else you’ll be speaking a whole new language.”

Janus huffed and rolled his eyes. He never appreciated being teased. He was too tired (and perhaps too in love) to be angry, however.

He continued sipping the glass of water, finishing it quickly with no more commentary from Roman. He set it back down on the coffee table, deciding that he would put it in the sink in the morning when he could walk and think like a normal human being (or, well, side). He pulled his knees to his chest; he always got cold in these early hours.

His plan was thwarted, however, when Roman stood from where he was sitting on Janus’ left, picked up the glass, and headed to the kitchen. Janus made a confused noise before he saw Roman place the glass carefully in the sink. When Roman returned, Janus looked up at him in confusion.

“Didn’t havffe, I could’vve mor’hing.”

“Surprisingly, I understood you there.”

“Thanmkh.”

“You’re welcome.”

Janus buried his head in his knees, wondering what he could do that wouldn’t disturb Roman. He figured the prince would be bothered by him watching TV (and also make a lot of comments on whatever he watched, potentially waking the others), so he pondered over other activities.

He heard music start to play quietly through the room. His head lifted slightly to see Roman set his phone down gently on the coffee table. His bare feet then took two smalls steps to stand in front of Janus, where he offered him a hand.

“You said you ‘need to stuff’ before you go back to sleep,” said Roman, sounding like he was trying to mock him but not fully getting that tone across. If Fully Awake Janus were here, he’d say Roman sounded nervous. “I figured, leading you in a dance could perhaps convince your brain to allow you to sleep. Besides, I could use some physical stimulation.”

Janus looked at Roman’s trembling hand for half a second. He then removed his left arm from where it was clasped around his legs and took Roman’s right hand. As soon as Janus’ hand was in his, Roman brought Janus’ hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. Janus blushed furiously at this and was too tired to figure that he should hide such an obvious display of weakness. He let go of his legs and stood up from the sofa. He lost his balance from the position change, but Roman's reflexes were quick and he didn't let him fall more than a few inches. He pulled Janus to his feet and held him securely in his arms. Janus' face flushed an even darker red than it already was and he turned his head away from Roman, casting his gaze to the floor.

"Look at me," Roman murmured lowly.

Janus complied, despite not wanting Roman to see his blushing. He smiled warily at him, anxiety caused by the possibility of Roman seeing the real reason for his flushed cheeks.

"There we go," said Roman, at the same low volume. Janus noted how he wasn't as hyper or dramatic during these early hours, yet still just as passionate (if not more). "Since you need to do stuff in order to properly go back to sleep, I figured I could lead you in a couple of dances. Unless you think that you would collapse of fatigue like Sleeping Beauty...?"

Janus nodded. "Okay."

Roman grinned, tightening one hand's hold on Janus' waist and moving the other hand to hold Janus'. Janus was allowed a couple of seconds to sort himself into a proper dancing stance before Roman started to lead.

"I sh'ld lead."

"You'd walk into every piece of furniture in this room."

Janus made a wounded noise.

"Only because you've shown just how clumsy you are at this time of morning."

Janus huffed. "I'll st'p on foot."

"I can take it," Roman replied with a teasing smile.

Janus rolled his eyes, tightening his grip on Roman's hand and shoulder so he wouldn’t fall.

"Okay, JJ. One, two, three, four," Roman started counting under his breath to help Janus' walnut brain, "...one, two, spin, four, you're wonderful at this, Snakerella..."

---

Janus could feel his brain start to adjust to being awake and a bit of Fully Awake Janus start to have influence in his thoughts. Well, it wasn't exactly "adjust", because it wasn't gradual.

It was just a bit slower than a snap of the fingers.

Nothing was new in his actions, Roman didn't startle them, hell, it was during the middle of a slow song. But without any obvious triggering factor, his brain abruptly shifted into a more awake state of mind. And he realized his situation.

He was dancing...

...in the living room...

...with the love of his life...

...at half-past two in the goddamn morning.

Janus, still a far cry from Fully Awake Janus but with a lot of his mental capacities, couldn't quite remember the exact turn of events that got him here. Things were a bit blurry, events were splotchy, and he could only remember bits and pieces. So, ultimately, how he—while sleepy and filter-less—managed to get Roman "Princey" Fucking Sanders to dance with him was almost a mystery. He did know, however, that the only way Roman could have agreed was if he was extra sleep-deprived too.

"You like this song, Janus?"

He considered saying the truth, that he wasn't listening; or a well-thought-out lie, that he hadn't heard it before but thought it would fit with a playlist he had; or saying that he'd heard it before and liked it very much. But suddenly, Roman pulled him close and to his chest—and he smelled so good and his white sleep shirt was so snuggly and his hair was just inches away and oh so very soft and Janus was in love, so in love and he couldn't help but make a noise of happiness about their current situation instead of answering the question.

"I'm glad you like it."

Janus almost laughed; Roman mistook his noise for one of confirmation, also implying that he thought Janus was still in his state of Properly Out Of It. Janus had an act to keep up if he wanted Roman to continue being so intimate with him, so he decided he would play along—not more than he needed to, of course, but whenever Roman would prompt him to talk, he’d respond how he would if he had just woken up.

More songs went by, their almost-clumsy dancing that they exerted very little energy in doing continuing with it. Roman rarely spoke, but it was comfortable that way, with Roman just holding him as their feet glided across the floor with only the crescent moon as their witness. Janus knew very well that his emotions were senseless and cheesy, especially at this time of the morning in his current situation, but he almost scoffed when he realized that he felt loved—loved by Roman, and loved in a way he had never felt before. It made him feel warm and hopeful, and if he was fully awake, he would probably vomit. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant feeling no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, so he relished in it, soaking up the unfamiliar emotion he figured he would never get again and savoring it as one does with hot chocolate during the coldest winter nights. It was warm and calming, with an underlying hint of melancholy and bittersweetness. Just like how Janus perceived Roman.

Roman and Janus had differences that they were slowly putting behind them in an attempt to advance into a tentative friendship, so it made sense for Janus to think he would never get this again. He was tired, Roman was tired, and he remembered the dashing prince saying something about 'rousing thoughts' so this was probably serving as a release of all the stress that built up in the later hours. Tomorrow, things would be back to normal, but he would never forget.

The song started to slow to a speed that seemed inadvisable to Janus because the song was already quite a slow song in itself, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that the speed was romantic too. Roman's feet stopped taking larger steps and started swaying.

"Sway with me, mi cielo," said Roman in a voice that was practically silent. "This is the last song."

Janus' face burned from the Spanish nickname Roman gave him. Janus didn't know Spanish, but he was able to piece that it might have been a term of endearment. It was late, so it made sense that Roman would slip up like that, especially since he's the romantic side and their current situation was rather intimate. Of course, that assumption could also be Janus' wishful thinking.

"Thank you for dancing with me," muttered Roman, thumb starting to trace circles on Janus' waist. "I needed this outlet too."

From the way Roman phrased it, it seemed that Janus was mistaken in his assumption that he had convinced Roman to dance with him, that it seemed that things happened the other way around. This made Janus' heart flutter.

He hummed, closing his eyes. "M' ple'srre."

Janus peeked one eye open to see Roman's head turn down and smile at him warmly—lovingly, Janus would say, if he didn't know better.

The song started to come to an end. When the last beat played, Roman guided Janus into a small dip. Roman's happy smile as he stared down at Janus was hypnotizing, and Janus knew that he would fight a thousand wars just to see that smile again.

"Let's go to bed, hm? Neither of us wants to be tired in the morning."

Janus nodded. Roman pulled him to his feet and put an arm around his waist. They walked up the staircase together, Janus leaning his head on Roman's shoulder as they walked.

Janus' room was closest, so they paused there as Roman opened the door and led them inside. He kissed Janus hair and slowly removed his arm from Janus' waist.

“Goodnight, Janus,” whispered Roman, pushing a strand of Janus’ hair behind his ear.

Janus kissed Roman’s cheek. “G’nigh.”

He slowly closed the door, smiling to himself. He knew he would come to remember and regret his sleepy clumsiness in the morning, but he would be thankful for it until then.

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @neo-neo-neo @fander-fic-recs

Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope you liked it! [Edit: here’s part two again so you don’t have to scroll all the way back up lol]

#roceit #ts fanfic #janus sanders #roman sanders #romantic roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #prompt #ts janus #ts virgil #swearing tw #kill writes #fic

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ayellowcurtain · 4 years

Text

Maybe you could do another part where they watch Sander's favorite movie and he gets so passionate about the details. Robbe is in awe and ends up kissing Sander to shut him up. Not because he doesn't want him to continue, but because he can't hold back any longer

Part 1

Robbe shouldn’t be here, even bringing popcorn for them to make and some soda to share like he doesn’t feel this is wrong in some capacity. Sander’s break-up is still very fresh, still the gossip of the month around the school.

“Wow!” Sander says, and Robbe wishes he could hide the big bag he’s carrying with all the snacks, “I didn’t think you would actually bring things.”

It’s probably too much, Sander wasn’t that serious about their movie dates.

“We don’t have to eat...” Robbe tries to excuse, and Sander snorts, stepping aside to let him in.

“I’m kidding, Robbe.” He says so close Robbe feels like it was intentional, to tease him, so close he can feel Sander’s warm breathe tingling his hair against the back of his ear. His hand gently touches Robbe’s when he steals the grocery bag, opening to check what he’s bringing.

Robbe follows him quietly to the tv room and looks around, trying to save every memory very well in his brain, even the white walls, and how big and comfy the couch looks once you’re looking at it.

“Can you close the blinds for me?” Sander asks, putting everything Robbe brought on the coffee table. Robbe nods his head, putting his bag on the floor against the wall close to the door, walking around the room to close the two blinds that cover the long and wide windows on the right side of the room. It doesn’t get completely dark because the sun is still bright outside, no clouds to give them some extra shadows. It’s a perfectly summery day and Robbe is happy to stay inside for once.

“What are we gonna watch today?” Robbe sits on the edge of the couch, tapping his fingers against his knees.

Sander stops opening a bag of chips and looks over his shoulder with an annoying smile, “You really think I’ll ruin the surprise?”

“Sander...” He complains and Sander shakes his head, finally done setting everything up for the middle-of-the-movie-snack, grabbing the remote, sitting on the middle seat, pushing himself back until he hits the soft cushion of the couch.

“Come, sit here.” He gives a pat to the seat next to him and Robbe pushes himself back too, looking from the corner of his eyes the small space between them, a lot different than last week, with them sitting opposite sides at the start.

Robbe has no idea of what they’re watching today but he knows it’s all Sander’s picks this time. After Romeo and Juliet they spent a whole afternoon just following Robbe’s list of favorite movies, fighting for whoever would hold the remote, finding every chance to hold each other’s hands.

Sander started showing him all the details that made the movies shitty in his eyes and Robbe argued that he was too cold to understand the romantic meaning of all the gestures the characters did out of love. Sander looked at him every time with the corner of his eyes wrinkling, pressing his lips together, trying hard not to smile and failing every time.

Robbe was already lying in his arm - accidentally - but in those moments he also wanted to kiss him so badly. Sander would lift his eyebrows like he was daring Robbe to do it. But he didn’t, he just looked at the television again and they continued watching the movies, one after the other.

He knew how the afternoon would go the second the first movie started, the names of the companies that produced the movie were still fading out of the screen and Sander already started telling Robbe how much he liked the photography of this movie, how quiet it was and how it still didn’t feel eery.

The movie was a little too quiet, but Robbe got used to it pretty quickly. With the silence he could hear Sander’s calm breathing close to his ear, the small huff he did every time he smiled before making a comment - about the actor’s perfect job, at how slow and steady the person behind the camera moved, any and everything -, he could hear when Sander moved quietly, his black jeans making a noise and Robbe could feel him even closer, his arm accidentally resting behind Robbe’s shoulders like the last time.

He could even hear the feeling that his fuzzy socks gave him every time he tried to stretch his legs long enough to rest on the coffee table. Robbe crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed, finding comfort in silence for once, just lying next to Sander, enjoying knowing a little more about him, about movies that he’s clearly passionate about.

“How many times have you watched all these movies?”

Sander snorts, Robbe can feel him adjusting his arm, messing up his hair and then resting behind Robbe’s neck again, ignoring how he’s slipping down, so tempted to just put his head on Sander’s chest, wrap his arms around his middle, feel how tight or not his muscles are.

“Too many, my mom would say.” Sander answers, and makes another comment about how even in the dark scenes, you can still see shadows and get what the director was trying to show.

By the third movie, Robbe is so comfortable he’s afraid he’ll blink and end up falling asleep. The silence feels so nice, Sander’s company is the best and maybe Robbe is gently letting his head fit right in the curve between Sander’s shoulder and his chest.

But Sander can’t hold himself back. He’s still making comments. Robbe can see when he tries to move carefully to check if Robbe is still awake but he’s sure that even if he found a sleeping Robbe, Sander would still make another comment.

It doesn’t bother Robbe because he’s soothed by Sander’s voice, his excitement and spending time with him, he just think it’s funny and cute how he can’t keep his mouth shut, even when it feels like he wants to, to leave Robbe alone to fall asleep if he feels like it.

Robbe sits up before he can change his mind, he sees Sander staring at him, surprised with the sudden movement, and he looks at Sander’s shiny lips and just. Press their lips together carefully.

His passion makes Robbe want to kiss him until their lips get sore and puffy. Robbe wants to be like Sander, to feel this passionate about something other than Sander himself.

He moves back quietly, looking at Sander to see if he made that big of a mistake. He shouldn’t feel this insecure and scared after an innocent kiss that lasted less than five seconds, but Sander makes him that nervous at times, especially after their first movie date. For some reason Robbe wants Sander to like him, to think he’s interesting enough.

“You’re so handsome.” Sander whispers, putting his head on the back of the couch, sighing and smiling at Robbe.

“You think?”

Sander nods his head, the back of his fingers gently rubbing Robbe’s cheek, staring at his lips.

“Does what I think of you matter?”

Robbe tries to think of the right answer but he just lets it slip the truth, not caring if it sounds too desperate or not.

“Yes?”

Sander smiles and sits up again, pushing himself closer to Robbe. He touches Robbe’s nose with his, close enough that their lips brush lightly against each other when Sander smiles wider and Robbe is happy he gets another kiss for his answer.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #sobbe

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years

Text

one chance to change your fate - chapter 4

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas, Nico Flores, Dragon Witch (villain) Rating: Teen & up (see Warnings) Relationships: Loceit, Dukexiety, Royality, background Karrot Kings Warnings: Language, some sexual humor/vaguely implied sexual content, a lot of self negativity from Roman Word count: 9278 Notes: a big BIG thank you to my awesome beta @yougoodfahm!

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Chapter 4

Two days later, Logan was awoken by a soft yet insistent ringing in his ears—the alarm spell he’d set up to go off every morning, about half an hour before he and Janus needed to get up. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers to turn the noise off.

He turned his attention to Janus, who was still fast asleep, lying facing him on their side; their arms were loosely wrapped around his waist and their face was nuzzled against his bare chest, the warm down coverlet tucked snugly up around their neck. Some of their hair had worked its way free of the braid they wore it to sleep in and instead trailed in wisps along their cheek. Logan reached down and gently smoothed the loose hair back, gathering it together and tucking it behind Janus’s ear; their cheek was warm and soft, their face relaxed.

Logan tipped his head to press a kiss to Janus’s forehead, gently nudging at their shoulder. “Good morning, dear,” he said softly.

Janus made a sleepy noise of complaint, shifting closer to him. Not quite awake, but stirring. Logan smiled and shook them again. “Janus.”

“Mmnh,” Janus grumbled, worming still closer. “G’way.”

“It’s time to wake up, my love.” Logan kissed their forehead again.

“Nooooo,” Janus whined, squeezing their eyes tighter shut.

Logan rubbed his hand up and down their back. “It really is, my dear.”

Janus wrinkled their nose, still not opening their eyes. “Sleep,” they mumbled.

“Well, I need to get up, then,” Logan tried.

As he’d expected, Janus’s eyes flew open and they tightened their grip around him. “No.”

Logan chuckled. “Good morning.”

“Mmh,” Janus mumbled, burying their face in his chest.

Logan stroked their hair and waited patiently for a minute; when Janus showed no further signs of stirring, he let his hand come to a rest on the back of their head. “You never answered my question the other day,” he said.

There was a pause.

“What?” Janus tipped their head back to blink up at him in bleary confusion.

Logan resumed stroking their hair. “Day before yesterday, at dinner. When Roman and Remus were asking about your terribly mysterious partner. I asked you what you thought my favorite thing about you is.”

“Oh.” Janus blinked some more, seeming marginally more awake. “Obviously my ass.”

Logan flicked their ear gently. “Dear.”

“My mouth?” Janus tried with a smirk that was too sleepy to be as suggestive as they clearly intended it to be.

“Janus. I’m serious.”

Janus wrinkled their nose and closed their eyes again. “That’s no fun.”

Logan waited, running his finger up and down along their cheek.

“I dunno,” Janus mumbled. “Probably something sappy. You’re nice like that.”

Logan smiled and cupped the side of their face in his hand. “You’re my favorite everything,” he murmured. “How clever you are. How beautiful. The way you notice every little detail. Your fierceness. Your humor. Your gorgeous scales. How stubborn you are. Your smile. Your—”

Janus rolled to lie on top of Logan and kissed him, deep and hard and still a little sleep-clumsy, warm lips sliding against his as they cradled the back of his head in their hand. Logan let his hands rest on their back, one on the small of it and one higher up tracing gentle patterns with his fingers, as he lazily reciprocated the kiss; it tasted of morning breath, but Janus was so soft and clingy and warm in the mornings that they never failed to melt him anyway.

Janus pulled back, green eyes inches from Logan’s own brown ones. “You taste bad,” they told him with a petty little pout.

“Somehow, between you stopping me from getting up to brush my teeth and you being the one who kissed me, I fail to see how that is even marginally my fault,” Logan responded, trying not to sound as amused as he felt.

Janus pouted harder. Logan reached to catch one of their hands in his own, and, with a little awkward maneuvering of elbows, brought it to his lips to kiss. “If we get up, we can both brush our teeth,” he suggested.

Janus laced their fingers through his. “It’s so cold, though,” they whined.

“It is not that cold. Living quarters in the palace never drop below sixty-five degrees, and it’s nearly summer.”

“Shut up with your facts. I’m cold,” Janus grumbled, pointedly grabbing the edge of the comforter and dragging it up to their chin once again.

Logan conceded this point. Janus did run very cold, to the point where Logan wondered if it was another spillover effect of the curse, like their scales; they were only so warm like this in the early mornings, after a full night cuddled against him under the covers. At any other time, their fingers would be almost icy, and their lips would be cool when they pressed against his.

“If you let me get up, I can restart the fire,” Logan offered.

Janus grumbled some more, but rolled off of him, pulling the comforter with them and retreating into it until they were hardly visible beneath it.

Logan sat up and tucked his feet into his slippers. He rose, bent back down to press a kiss to Janus’s forehead—earning a soft sigh of content—and crossed to the fireplace, still warm and full of banked embers. It was the work of only a few moments to add some fuel and use a simple spell to properly restart the fire. He pulled a pair of breeches and a pale green shirt out of his closet, then moved to the door of the washroom and traced the glyph on the door, activating the water-warming charm he’d set up on it when he’d first moved in. He brushed his teeth and splashed water—not yet more than lukewarm, but he didn’t mind that nearly as much as Janus would—on his face, then changed quickly into the clothes. Buttoning the collar of his shirt, Logan reemerged from the washroom into the bedroom. He picked up Janus’s fluffy yellow dressing gown off the chair they’d discarded it on last night, and returned to the bed.

“We do need to get up,” he reminded Janus. “And it’s getting warm now.” He offered the dressing gown.

Janus made a wordless noise of complaint, but sat up and let him wrap them in the garment, pouting up at him all the while. “I hate waking up so early.”

“It’s nearly nine,” Logan commented with a raised eyebrow, going back to the fireplace to check that the spell had lasted long enough for the wood to properly catch, then to his closet for a waistcoat in the same shade of emerald green as his breeches.

“Yes, and?” Janus stretched languidly, sliding their toes into their fur-lined slippers as they did so. “I see absolutely no reason to not lounge about in bed all day.”

Logan gave them an unimpressed look, buttoning his waistcoat. “Darling, we start work in an hour.”

Janus closed their eyes, pouted, and shook their head. “That’s so boring. There are so many more fun things we could be doing instead.” They held out their hands palms-up imperiously, waiting until Logan crossed the room and placed his hands in theirs.

“I’ll make you tea if you get up,” he coaxed, as he did nearly every morning, smiling a little at the familiar routine.

“Hmm, bribery.” Janus gazed up at him through their lashes, raising one of his hands to their lips. “You do know just the way to my heart.”

Logan moved his hand to cup their cheek, and they leaned into the touch, tilting their head to the side; their braid slipped off their shoulder, exposing the side of their neck.

He blinked. “Ah, Janus?”

“Yes, my everything?”

He moved his other hand to the side of their neck. “You might want to wear something over this.” He passed his thumb lightly over a hickey that was both darker and higher up on their neck than he’d thought it would be last night.

Janus’s breath hitched at the touch and their eyelashes fluttered. “Ah,” they said with a composure that was nearly uncracked. “That’s probably a good idea, yes.”

Logan held back a smirk and ran his thumb over the hickey again; Janus let out a half-stifled, breathy sigh, tipping their head back. “Logan.”

“Yes, dear?” he inquired innocently.

“That is unfairly hot and you know it.”

“Oh, really?” He dropped his hands to his sides and took a half-step back. “So, tea?”

Janus squawked in indignation at the loss of his touch. Logan gave them his blandest smile just to needle them further, offering his hand to help them to their feet.

Janus sniffed haughtily, but accepted the hand and made their way over to an armchair by the fire to curl their knees up to their chest and pout some more over the general concept of being awake.

Logan left the bedroom to the living area and put the kettle on, pulling out Janus’s favorite cups and the breakfast tea they both liked. The kettle hadn’t yet begun to whistle by the time Janus, their hair now loosened from its braid, shuffled out from the bedroom, came up behind him, and slid their arms around him, bending down and nestling their face in the crook of his neck.

“Did you get lonesome?” he inquired, reaching up to pat their cheek once in acknowledgement as he continued measuring tea leaves.

Janus nodded into his neck, not relinquishing him until the kettle demanded his attention; then they hopped up to sit on the counter and kicked their heels.

“Do you want to get dressed before breakfast arrives?” Logan inquired as he poured the water into the two cups. Breakfast came from the kitchens, delivered fresh and warm at nine-thirty or thereabouts; it would arrive before long.

Janus sighed, adjusting their dressing gown. “Probably.”

Logan set the now-empty kettle down beside the teacups and offered Janus a hand to help them back down to the ground.

“I brushed my teeth,” they announced, landing lightly on their feet and not releasing his hand.

Logan laughed and drew them close. “Did you, now?”

“Mmhm.” Janus grinned and leaned down to press their forehead against his, wrapping their arms around his neck. “You can check. If you want.”

Logan threaded his fingers through their hair, leaning still closer and brushing their noses together. “But I trust your word, love,” he breathed, and Janus shivered in his arms, their eyes widening noticeably on the word trust . “Why would I need to—”

Janus seized his face in their hands and cut him off with an enthusiastic kiss, pressing close against him and all but drinking him in. Logan smiled against their lips and relaxed into the kiss; their mouth did indeed taste fresh, and their early-morning warmth hadn’t quite worn off yet. They sighed into his mouth and pulled away, a delightfully besotted look in their eyes.

“I love you,” he told them, for good measure, and relished the pink that sprung to their cheeks.

“You’re a sap,” Janus mumbled, looking away and putting their hand in his.

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, following them as they tugged him back into the bedroom. As they rummaged around in their own closet, Logan located the rest of his own outfit—mint green coat, pale yellow cravat, plain white socks, and gleaming black shoes with just a bit of extra height built into the soles. He sat on the end of the bed to put on the socks and shoes, leaving the coat and cravat lying beside him.

Janus emerged, wearing a yellow turtleneck that would safely hide the hickey on their neck from the princes; the shirt was paired with high-waisted black pants and black suspenders. They wordlessly crossed the room, sat on the bed beside him, picked up his cravat, and held it up. Logan turned up the collar of his shirt obligingly and bent his head.

They wrapped the cravat around his neck and began tying it with gentle fingers. “I love you too,” they announced after a moment. “What’s the general plan for the day?”

“Well, it’s going to—thank you, dear,” he broke off to say, as Janus tucked the end of the cravat into his waistcoat and turned his collar back down. He continued, “It’s going to be a rough day for Remus now that the deadline is past and things are really cemented into place. So I’ll be trying to keep the preparations out of his hair as much as I can.”

Janus nodded and kissed his cheek, helping him into the jacket.

Logan hesitated, turning his phrasing over in his head before he went on. “We may want to try to encourage him and Roman to give each other some space.” Janus had given Logan to understand that Roman had promised to work things out with Patton and his fathers last night; with Roman thus exempt from the competition, Remus was bound to be jealous and upset—not without reason, either.

Janus nodded. “That shouldn’t be too hard; I’m sure I can just send him out to the gardens and he’ll be gone all day.” They looked themself up and down in the mirror, eyeing their outfit critically, then went back to the closet and reemerged with a pair of black fingerless gloves made of shiny leather. “There,” they said, satisfied, just as there was a knock at the door in the next room. That would be breakfast.

“Come in,” Logan called.

As the kitchen staff laid out the breakfast on the table in the next room, Logan fixed his hair in the washroom; Janus, meanwhile, brushed their hair and drew it back in a loose ponytail, then hovered in the doorway of the washroom impatiently until Logan gave them a turn with the counterspace to pull out their makeup and draw on thin, sharp wings of black eyeliner.

Logan headed out into the kitchen to sweeten the tea he’d brewed earlier; he was just in time to call a “thank you” after the people who’d brought up the breakfast as they were on their way out. He added sugar to Janus’s tea and honey to his, then brought the cups—just reaching the perfect temperature—to the table. He went back to rummage in the cupboard above the sink.

“Need help?” Janus inquired over his shoulder. He hadn’t consciously heard them come in, but he didn’t startle.

“I’ve got it, thank you—would you mind serving?” Logan nodded towards the table.

“Of course.” Janus busied themself filling two plates as Logan pulled down the two jars stored on the top shelf: the hormone replacement potions he brewed in bulk every month. He measured out the potions carefully into two little cups with an easy precision born of some seven years’ practice. He’d become a wizard specifically to study gender-related magic; it was listed as his specialty on his certification degree, which he was rather proud of. He had been brewing his own hormone potion since he’d learned how, partly because it was just a little cheaper than buying prescription potions and partly as a point of pride. Once he’d gotten his official certification four years ago, he’d started making Janus’s potion for them, too.

Theirs was very easy, based on a standard prescription formula; the finished potion was a shimmering pearly concoction containing a small dose of estrogen and a bit of jasmine flavoring to cover up the bitter flavor that potion bases tended to have. For his own potion, however, Logan had altered the prescribed formula just slightly—a fairly standard testosterone dosage in a potion flavored with loganberry extract that gave it a nice purple color. The flavor was pleasant, but, although he’d never admit it, he’d chosen it more for the name than the taste. (He had gotten into several arguments with Patton, when he visited Janus’s family with them on some of his days off, over whether it counted as a pun. Which, of course, was a ridiculous idea and not true in the slightest. Wordplay was quite different from puns, thank you very much.) He’d only implemented a few small tweaks to his original prescription, based on what Logan liked to call “research” and Janus liked to call “illegal magic experimentation done on your own body, what the actual hell, Logan, do you have no sense of self-preservation at all, you idiot?”

This was, in Logan’s opinion, entirely unfair; he’d known exactly what the risks of the spells he’d done were, had been confident he could successfully navigate them, and, most importantly, he had been right. He hadn’t harmed himself, and he’d gotten what he insisted was a more accurate measurement of his own physiology and natural hormonal cycles. Based on that, he’d been able to customize the potion even better to his physical needs. The tweaks hadn’t been much, but in Logan’s opinion, they made all the difference. It was simply another advantage that home-brewed potions carried; you couldn’t get this kind of specificity in a drugstore-variety hormone potion.

It hardly ought to count as illegal when he only ran the research spells on himself, anyway. He understood the ethical concerns of running those kinds of tests on someone else, of course, and would never do that, but he’d known what he was doing! Janus was simply being overprotective. Besides, between himself and Janus, he was the expert with an actual certification. The fact that he’d adamantly refused when Janus, annoyed, had challenged him to run the same tests on themself “to prove they’re so safe” meant nothing. It was simply an overabundance of caution. Nothing more.

Now, finished with measuring out their potions’ daily doses, Logan sealed the jars and returned them to their shelf, then passed Janus their potion and took a seat at the table. Janus set a plate down in front of him; fruit, toast with his favorite jam, and scrambled eggs topped with salsa, all just how he liked them.

“Thank you, dear,” he said, accepting the fork they passed him. He tossed back his own potion, washed it down with a sip of his tea, and tucked in. He had a long day ahead of him; best to fuel up.

***

For one single moment when he woke up, Roman was content, staring up at his painted ceiling and snuggling under the covers. The delicate, brightly colored designs on the ceiling were abstract, the sort of art that made the eye jump to seek out patterns that didn’t exist: the perfect spark for creativity and imagination. He usually daydreamed in the mornings, slipping in and out of sleep, until Janus arrived to nag him to get up and start the day. And what better to daydream of than—

Patton.

Roman was suddenly fully awake, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted more to throw up or to cry.

The deadline had been yesterday. And Patton had said nothing. Because he didn’t know. Because Roman hadn’t told him, and had smiled and lied to Janus’s face yesterday when he promised he’d tell Patton how he felt and go to his fathers and get excused from the competition.

And now Roman would have to marry a stranger from some far-off land.

He suddenly understood exactly why Remus had been so antsy and distraught all month, so irritable and set off by the smallest thing. The competition had all seemed so surreal to Roman; it had been so easy to refocus instead on his near-daily meetings with Patton that he swore were getting more and more openly flirtatious by the hour, and to shove the competition to the back of his mind and believe it wouldn’t affect him. Patton’s face had pinched up with worry whenever it came up, anyway; Roman hardly wanted to upset him discussing it.

Guilt rolled in his stomach. Patton was going to be crushed. Precious, sweet Patton, who deserved nothing but joy and light in his life—he was going to try and hide it for Roman’s sake, but Roman knew better, and—oh, Janus had been right all along.

He had been so stupid.

Roman rolled over, pulled the nearest pillow over his head, and let the tears flow.

He wasn’t sure how long he cried, tiny little sniffles interspersed with choked sobs, curling tighter and tighter in on himself in a vain, desperate search for comfort, but eventually the tears dried up into a sort of numb horror, his mind circling around and around through worse and worse thoughts.

Patton was going to cry. Patton was going to hate him. Patton was going to pretend it was okay, because Patton was sweet and kind and thoughtful and so, so good, but it wouldn’t be okay, not even a little bit, and they’d both know it. Patton was never going to talk to him again. Patton was never going to give him flowers again. Never going to laugh at Roman’s stories, never going to light up when he thought of the perfect pun, never going to stumble over his words in an eager, laughing babble as he told Roman about his day, never going to look at Roman like he could be happy forever.

Roman was going to marry a stranger, and Patton was going to move on and never think about him again, and Roman wasn’t sure which of those things was worse. He could feel the tears and snot starting to dry on his face, but he didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

There was a knock on the door. “Roman?” Janus called, voice light and far too chipper. They waited a beat, then came in when he didn’t respond. “Time to get up, lover boy,” they announced, dragging the wide drapes open and flooding the room with sunlight. “I was thinking we could—Roman?”

Roman made a wordless noise of misery, burrowing a little deeper under his covers.

“Roman?” Janus said again, a distinct note of concern working its way into their voice. They moved over to his bed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Roman mumbled.

They sat on the bed beside him and lifted the pillow he’d hidden his head beneath. He flinched away from the too-bright morning light. “What happened?” They searched his face, their eyes wide and bewildered, pulling out a handkerchief and offering it as he sat up.

Roman wiped his nose and looked away, gut twisting with the sudden realization that he really, really didn’t want to know what Janus’s reaction to finding out would be.

“He—Patton didn’t say no, did he?” Janus said disbelievingly. “Roman?” They gripped his shoulder again, fingers clinging tight with worry. “He didn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Not to you. Would he?” They hesitated, mind clearly racing. “Did your fathers—?” they began.

Roman shook his head.

“What happened?” Janus pressed once more.

Roman winced and curled in on himself.

“Roman?”

And there it was. A note of horror. The truth had occurred to them.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing it wasn’t enough.

Janus took him by both shoulders and turned him to face them. “Roman, what did you do?”

Roman hung his head. His voice came out in a mumble that promptly cracked and fell to a whisper that shrank smaller and smaller as he went on. “I—I didn’t—Ididn’ttellhimaboutit.”

Janus hesitated. “Say that again,” they said, rising anger warring with a pleading tone. Pleading with him to say anything else or tell them they’d misheard him.

Roman bit his lip. “I—” A lump rose in his throat, and he stopped, twisting the handkerchief back and forth in his hands.

“Roman,” Janus begged, their grip tightening on his shoulders once again, a vice-like pinch through Roman’s silk pajamas.

Roman looked up at them. They were staring desperately at him.

He hadn’t even thought about how this would hurt them, too. How could he have been so selfish?

“I didn’t talk to him about it,” Roman forced through his suddenly wobbling lips.

The stricken look on Janus’s face would have been enough to make Roman cry at the best of times, and now was certainly not the best of times. As their hands slipped off his shoulders to rest slack in their lap, Roman shrank back, hiding his face in his hands, tears overwhelming him once more.

“I’m sorry, Janus,” he choked out.

Janus got to their feet, not meeting his eyes. “Get dressed,” they said tonelessly. They turned and walked out. The door shut without so much as a slam, but Roman didn’t find that reassuring in the slightest.

He could just hear Logan and Remus’s voices through the door, raised in concerned, questioning tones. Janus didn’t answer them, or if they did, not loud enough for Roman to make out their voice over his own sobs.

He wanted nothing more than to pull the covers back over his head and cry the day away; but Janus had told him to get up. The least he could do was oblige them.

Roman took several deep, gasping breaths and pulled himself together shakily, swallowing the tears back until he could wipe his face and blow his nose and force himself up out of bed and across the room to his closet.

He dressed in the first clothes that came to hand, splashed cold water on his face, tried not to cry again at the sight of his tear-splotched face in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, failed, changed to a new shirt that didn’t have tears and toothpaste dribbled down the front, washed his face again, and after three tries managed to clip back his hair in a half-up style that was still too messy because normally Janus would do it for him.

And then he sat on the bed, wringing the handkerchief Janus had given him back and forth in his hands, staring at the door.

He ought to go out there and face the music, as it were. He knew that.

But he’d just lost Patton. He didn’t want to lose Janus, too. And if he just stayed here, stayed in his room and pretended he wasn’t hiding from the consequences of his actions, then maybe this moment of time would freeze and he could just stay here forever and things wouldn’t get better but at least they wouldn’t get worse, either.

Roman probably didn’t deserve for things not to get worse.

He straightened his shoulders as much as he could, took a deep, shuddering breath, and walked to the door, holding the handkerchief tight. Maybe it was about to become a memento of the last time Janus was nice to him. He hoped they’d let him keep it.

He took another moment with his hand on the doorknob to steady himself, taking one deep breath, then another, then a third. When he still didn’t feel any more steadied, he grimaced and pushed the door open before he could change his mind, emerging into the sitting room.

Janus was pacing in circles around the room, long legs eating up the distance at a rapid pace, hands gesturing wildly as they muttered to themself, and all their hesitancy and horror from before was gone. Now they only looked furious. Remus was at the breakfast table, munching on a stack of pancakes, worried eyes tracking Janus. Logan was seated on the sofa, back ramrod-straight, shoulders taut, expression serious, not speaking a word. The whole room felt oddly still and silent, Janus’s angry movement the only energy in the space.

Janus froze at the noise of the door opening for just a beat, then turned on their heel to glare at Roman, crossing their arms.

He shrank back under their gaze, half of a mind to step back into his room, lock the door, and never come out. Logan was looking back and forth between Roman and Janus, his expression hard to read beyond definitely not good; Remus’s eyes were fixed on his twin. Roman spared him the briefest glance before meeting Janus’s eyes once again. At least Remus didn’t seem mad—although he certainly wasn’t anywhere near happy.

“So,” Janus said coldly. “You decided to grace us with your presence. How kind.”

Roman winced. “Janus—” He faltered, having no idea what on earth he could say. I’m sorry didn’t really cover it, but every other option was worse.

The slight flare of Janus’s nostrils was enough to stop Roman in his tracks, anyway. “What?” they snapped.

Roman looked at his feet.

“No, really, what? I’m quite curious. What earthly thought process could possibly have gone through your head leading up to this? Do share your enlightened decision-making prowess with the rest of us,” Janus went on, stalking closer to Roman in a way that made him feel very much like he was about to be eaten alive.

Roman wound the handkerchief around and around his fingers. “I—I don’t—I’m sorry.”

“Clearly. But I’m afraid I kind of don’t care about that just now,” Janus informed him, grabbing his chin and making him face them. “Explain.”

Roman’s tensed shoulders had climbed until they were practically around his ears. But he wouldn’t refuse Janus. Not after that moment of shocked hurt earlier. “I—I didn’t tell him,” he began.

“Mmhm.” Janus’s tone was as chilly as snow down Roman’s back. They let go of his chin and crossed their arms again, staring him down. “You made that pretty clear.”

“No, I—I didn’t tell him anything.” Roman faltered at the way Janus’s lips tightened, but he forged onward. Too late to turn back now. “I didn’t—I didn’t even tell him about the—the deadline. That I could have gotten out at all.”

“Oh my god.” Janus threw their hands in the air. “I didn’t think it could get worse.”

“I thought it wouldn’t be fair to him!” Roman couldn’t help but defend, knowing he sounded hysterical and teary. “I didn’t want to pressure him, I was trying to be mindful of my power, I—”

“You make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him!” Janus snapped, shoving a finger in Roman’s face. “You make him happier than any actual boyfriend he’s ever had before! He’s made it pretty fucking clear he was interested in you for months now, so quit giving me your ‘I wasn’t sure’ bull.” Their voice rose as they went on until they were all but screaming in Roman’s face. “I thought you at least had the fucking sense to act in your own goddamn self-interest when it came down to the line! But evidently I overestimated your brainpower!”

“But I—”

“No. Shut up.” Janus’s hands were shaking, their voice gone low and furious. “Patton is one of the two most important people in my life, Roman. Did you stop to think for a fucking second about respecting Patton’s autonomy in the situation? Think about the way that deliberately withholding critically relevant information would impact his ability to make his own decisions?”

Roman’s gut twisted. He had not thought of this angle. He looked at the floor again and didn’t speak.

“Did you ever realize that this isn’t just about you?” Janus went on. “Because it’s not just about you, Roman! Your actions have consequences! You can’t just decide to play the martyr because you feel like it, or you think it’s the righteous thing to do, or whatever the hell was going through your head. You can’t do that to Patton! It doesn’t make you the hero if Patton gets hurt! Do you understand that?” They looked down at the handkerchief he was still twisting in his hands and snatched it from him. “Do you understand how monumentally stupid you’ve been, Your Highness?”

The tears that had been pooling in Roman’s eyes spilled over. “Yes,” he choked out. “I get it.”

“Do you? Do you really?” Janus demanded, hands on their hips.

“I know!” Roman sobbed. “I get it, Janus! It’s my fault and I was stupid and now you hate me and Patton will too and it’s my fault! I know! I know I just ruined my whole life and his too! You don’t need to explain to me why I’m stupid! Okay?” He gulped in air, the sensation in his lungs all wrong, just like everything else about this moment. “I know,” he repeated, voice cracking.

Janus was silent for a moment, their expression hard. “I don’t hate you,” they said tersely. “I’m monumentally angry with you, but I don’t hate you. Clear?”

Roman didn’t know how to formulate a response to that. “You d—don’t?” he hiccuped after a pause.

Janus made a face, shoved the handkerchief back at him, and crossed their arms. “You’re my friend,” they said as he wiped his tears away again, though their tone didn’t soften from its stony prickle at all. “I’m not throwing that away overnight. You know, unlike how you decided to throw Pat—”

Logan cleared his throat, and Janus cut themself off almost instantly, their eyes flying to him.

“I get the feeling you might regret whatever you’re about to say,” Logan commented mildly.

Janus blinked. “I—you’re right. Thank you.” They looked back to Roman. “I... apologize for that last bit. It was... uncalled for.”

Roman wasn’t convinced that anything they could say to him, no matter how much it hurt, would be uncalled for just at this moment, but he was too choked up to form words. He waved his hand vaguely.

Janus was silent for a moment. “I… listen.” The furious edge was gone from their voice, and their breathing had steadied, but Roman thought this new, deadly serious tone might be worse; it was so much more calculated and intentional than the angry shouting of a moment ago. “I care about you, Roman. But if you break my brother’s heart, I don’t know if I’ll be able to forgive that.” Janus turned away from him, arms wrapped tightly around themself, and Roman realized very suddenly that their shoulders were trembling.

“Janus—” he began, reaching out instinctively but catching himself before he could lay his hand on their arm.

Janus shook their head, still not looking at him. “I don’t want to hear it.” Their voice shook ever so slightly.

Logan fidgeted in his seat, staring at Janus with a surprisingly distressed expression, his eyebrows knitted together, but he didn’t say anything. Remus was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, half-eaten pancakes forgotten in front of him.

“What—” Roman began. He hesitated, not sure if it was the right thing to say, but he felt he had to say something. “What should I have done differently?”

Janus spun back to face him again, face flushed and eyes filled with barely-held-back tears. “Anything!” they snapped, fury coloring their voice once again. “What is so hard to comprehend about that? Would even an ounce of communication with literally anyone in this situation have killed you?”

Logan got to his feet. “Janus. Roman. I do not intend to invalidate either of your feelings in this moment, but I fail to see how this is at all healthy for either of you at this point.” He sighed. “Would it help to—”

“Shut up,” Janus and Roman snapped in unison.

Logan recoiled, looking shocked, for just a second; then his brows drew even closer together than they had already been, and his lips pressed together in a frown. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin just slightly, looking away from them.

Janus hesitated, something like regret flashing across their face almost too quickly for Roman to read it. “I—Lo—”

“What’s going on?” Thomas’s voice said.

Roman jumped, but he seemed to be the only one surprised by the new arrival. Looking over, he saw both his parents by the door, taking in the scene.

“Your son is an idiot, that’s all,” Janus responded to Thomas in a cold tone, fists clenching at their sides.

“Janus, you are speaking to the kings!” Logan interrupted frantically, his former anger melting away into alarm.

“I’m well aware,” Janus snapped. “If they wanted me speaking my mind to always be a nice thing, they should have thought of that before they raised their child to be so self-centered and hell-bent on self-sacrifice!”

Nico leaned over and whispered in Thomas’s ear; he received a nod and stepped out of the room. Thomas, meanwhile, clasped his hands in front of himself, raised his eyebrows, and gave Janus and Roman his full attention.

Janus hadn’t stopped ranting. “He can’t get it through his thick skull that being happy is good or that his actions have consequences and that he’s not the only one affected by them! And I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to fix it this time!”

“You don’t have to—” Roman began.

Janus glared at him. “Yes, I fucking do! And not even just for you! For Patton! Do I have any idea how to fix it? No! I was totally unprepared for this eventuality! I thought you had this handled! I didn’t think you’d make it worse, you nitwit!”

Roman winced and fell silent once more.

“Sorry,” Thomas said, “who’s… Patton?”

Janus froze and pinned Roman with an icy look. “They don’t know about him?”

Roman looked away.

“What the hell, Roman?” Janus demanded.

“I was shy about him!” Roman defended. “I was going to tell them eventually!”

“Is he some kind of game to you? Some sort of toy to string along for fun? Not even important enough to tell your own parents he exists?” With each accusatory question, Janus took another step towards him, backing him towards the wall.

“No!” Roman shook his head frantically. “No no no no no—I just—I mean, have you told your dads about your boyfriend? It’s embarrassing!”

Janus flung their hands up in a bewildered, aggravated motion. “Yes, I have! Obviously! Ages ago! We’ve been together for years, I bring him home all the time!”

Roman blinked. “Wh— years?”

“Yes, I—” Janus inhaled. “You know what, he is none of your business! We are talking about you and Patton right now, and every time I think I have a handle on how badly you’ve messed this up, it gets worse.”

“Alright,” Thomas interrupted. “I still don’t understand what’s happening, but let’s all take a deep breath and sit down and sort out whatever’s upset you all so. Come on. Everybody find a chair. Let’s go.”

Janus, who was trembling again with what looked like barely-held-back angry tears, took the armchair nearest Logan, and Thomas took one across from them. Roman made his way to the sofa; Remus hopped up from the table and plastered himself to Roman’s side, protectively wrapping his arms around him.

Roman tensed for a moment; he wanted a hug, very badly, but part of his brain insisted he ought not accept comfort when he’d upset Janus so much. That part, however, was quickly overpowered by the fact that Remus was as clingy as an octopus, and Roman was clearly getting the hug whether he wanted it or not. Roman relaxed, which wound up prompting a fresh burst of tears now that he wasn’t focused on trying to hold them back.

Remus only held Roman tighter, to the point where it was nearly uncomfortable, resting his chin on top of Roman’s head; he didn’t even make a teasing comment about “waterworks.”

As Roman got his tears under control once again, he realized that Remus hadn’t said anything for the entire morning so far. Quiet Remus was practically unheard of, and never a good sign. Roman frowned.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Look who’s talking.” Remus thumbed at Roman’s cheek, still wet with tears—not quite wiping them away, but still a comforting gesture. “I dunno. I’ll—” He hesitated. “I’ll tell you later.” He let go of Roman, but left his hand on Roman’s shoulder, a grounding weight only a little bit sticky with the syrup he’d poured on his pancakes.

Roman nodded and looked back up; Thomas was watching the twins closely, concern plain to read on his face. Logan was drawing back, as if he’d just been leaning forward a second ago. Janus was leaning forward, with their elbows on their knees; they were raising their hand to their face to brush away the tears that had spilled down their own cheeks. If Roman hadn’t known better, he’d almost have thought the two could have been holding hands a second ago.

As Nico came back in—Roman couldn’t be sure what he’d been doing, but he suspected it had been some sort of arrangement to clear the family’s schedules for the next hour or two—Thomas beckoned him over to sit in the chair beside him. The two clasped hands, and Thomas leaned over and murmured something Roman couldn’t make out in Nico’s ear. Nico nodded.

“Okay.” Thomas turned back to the rest of the group and took a deep breath. “What’s going on?”

Janus, Remus, and Roman all began talking at once.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“—thinks it’s funny to go around playing with—”

“—both need to fucking cool their tits—”

“—I was only trying to help—”

“—can’t believe he would be so—”

“—they keep yelling and yelling and it’s not even funny—”

“—and I’m so so sorry—”

“Whoa!” interrupted Thomas. “Okay. Everyone take a breath.” He turned to Nico. “Alright. How do we want to do this?”

“Hm.” Nico considered this for a moment. “Logan?”

“Your Majesty?” Logan inclined his head.

“Could I get your perspective to accompany all this?”

Remus let out a small snicker, which he quickly stifled.

“Roman, Janus, we’re going to hear each of you out,” Nico clarified. “I just want a quick rundown of what’s happening first, and it seems like you’re both feeling... a little distressed for that right now.”

Janus gave a small, terse nod, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Logan took a deep breath, clearly weighing his choice of words. “Well. I am not directly privy to all the details, of course, and that should be kept in mind. But my understanding is, roughly, as follows. Roman has—actually, hold on. Roman, may I speak freely on this matter?”

Roman blinked. “I—yeah.” There was no point now in trying to wait until introducing Patton to his fathers could be a joyful, celebratory moment.

Logan nodded once. “Thank you.” He turned back to the kings. “To my understanding, Roman has been, to some extent, romancing Janus’s brother Patton, who works in the palace gardens, for some five months now.”

“But—” Roman began. Logan was oversimplifying!

“Roman,” Nico said gently, holding up a hand, still looking at Logan. “Wait your turn, son.”

Roman bit his lip and fell silent.

Logan nodded and continued. “Each of them has demonstrated extreme reluctance to openly discuss their feelings with one another for reasons unknown to me, to the point where… well. Where yesterday came and went without either of them doing anything to cement their relationship and remove Roman from the competition. Janus seems quite upset by this, I believe mostly out of concern for Patton’s feelings—”

“He can’t just—” Janus burst out.

Nico opened his mouth, but Logan beat him to it. “Janus,” Logan said gently, much more gently than Roman usually heard him speak to them. “I am in no way attempting to belittle you, or your brother, or your relationship to him, or the consequences Roman’s actions will bring, or the way you or Patton feel about this. I merely intend to give the kings a brief rundown of the concrete events that have taken place so they are better equipped to understand. Alright?”

Janus held Logan’s gaze, something hard in their expression trembling and melting away, leaving them with a startlingly vulnerable look in their eyes. “Alright,” they whispered, closing their eyes.

Logan nodded and turned back to the kings. “Janus had been under the impression that Roman and Patton intended to make their relationship official yesterday, but that did not actually occur, I believe partly because Patton was unaware that leaving the competition was an option for Roman at all. This morning, after we learned what took place, we sent for Your Majesties. While we waited, Roman and Janus proceeded to participate in a screaming match, mostly in the form of Janus lashing out and berating Roman about his treatment of their brother, and Roman accepting it unquestioningly in what seemed to me to be a concerning form of emotional self-flagellation. This lasted until Your Majesties arrived.” He paused, clasping his hands, then nodded to himself. “I believe that is all.”

“Wait, what?” Janus said, blinking. They stared at Roman. “You were what?”

Roman squirmed uncomfortably under the sudden attention. “You were right,” he mumbled. “I messed up. It made sense to let you say whatever.”

“What—like, using me as a way to punish yourself?” Janus, for some reason, seemed distressed by this, their voice pitching high.

Roman just shrugged.

“Roman!” Janus snapped.

Roman fidgeted with the handkerchief, not meeting their eyes. “What?”

They spluttered for a moment. “You can’t do that!”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“I— what do you mean, why not? It’s shitty, that’s why not!”

“But—” Roman began.

“Okay,” Thomas interrupted again. “Break time. Janus is right, that’s not healthy, Roman, but we can discuss that in detail a little later.” He looked at his husband. “I think we can spare a few hours, don’t you? This does seem like a family emergency.”

Nico nodded. “I was thinking the very same myself. You and I are already free until at least noon, and I think we can potentially extend that by another hour or two if we need.”

“Alright.” Thomas looked back to the younger four, his eyes settling on Janus. “Janus, it seems pretty clear that the hurts between you and Roman went both ways. I want to make sure we allow you to process however works best for you. Would you like to stick around while we all work through what just happened, or would you like to take the day off and deal with your emotions yourself for today?”

“Can Patton have the day off too?” Janus asked immediately.

“You said he works in the gardens? Of course he can,” Nico agreed. “I’m sure we have plenty of gardeners, that should be fine.”

Janus didn’t hesitate. “I want to go home, then.”

Nico nodded. “Go ahead. We can discuss what happened between you and Roman privately with you tomorrow and help you work out a solution, alright?”

Janus was on their feet and moving before Nico even finished speaking. “Yes, fine, absolutely,” they tossed over their shoulder, heading for the door.

“Janus,” Thomas called. “Make sure you’re taking the time to care for yourself, too.”

“Mmhm, of course.” Janus didn’t sound particularly sincere.

“Janus?” Roman worked up the courage to say.

Janus froze in their tracks, not turning. “What?” Their voice was much chillier than it had been speaking to his fathers.

“Can—can you tell him I’m really sorry?” Roman’s voice dwindled smaller.

Janus sighed. Their shoulders slumped slightly. “...Maybe.” They walked out the door and shut it behind them.

Logan stared after Janus, then glanced at Remus, then Roman, clearly struggling with something; he looked beseechingly at the kings.

Nico smiled slightly. “Why don’t you take the day off, as well, Logan?”

“Thank you, sire.” Logan practically bolted from the room. “Janus!”

There was silence for a few seconds after Logan’s departure; Thomas and Nico seemed to be having a conversation with only their eyes.

“Alright,” Thomas said, offering Nico his hand as both men moved to the couch by their sons, “let’s talk about it.”

***

Janus was halfway back to their and Logan’s rooms by the time Logan caught up with them. He wordlessly offered them his hand, and they clung to him as they walked the rest of the way back to the suite.

The moment the door was closed behind them, Janus crumpled to their knees, too worked up to even properly cry; Logan sank down beside them and drew them close.

They hid their face in his shoulder, clinging to him with all their strength. “I thought it was going to be fine!” they burst out after a minute.

“I know.” Logan’s arms were firm around them. “I know, dear.”

“Patton doesn’t even know,” they went on. “How am I supposed to break it to him?”

“I would suggest that his favorite tea be involved,” Logan responded reasonably, “but I also get the feeling you meant that rhetorically.”

Janus chuckled in spite of themself, taking a deep breath. They looked up, making sure they had Logan’s attention. “I’m sorry I told you to shut up earlier,” they said. “I know you hate that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Logan hesitated. “Emotions were running high. I certainly understand doing something in the moment that I wouldn’t choose in a more rational mindset.” He glanced away. “I… I admit that it did… sting. But I know you didn’t intend it maliciously.” He looked back, meeting their eyes once again. “I forgive you, dearest.”

“I love you,” Janus told him, only stumbling a little over the words. At a better time, the look of startlement on Logan’s face at them saying it first would be absolutely delectable; they stored that information away to process at a later date.

“I love you too,” he responded, cupping their cheek in his hand. “What do you need before you go to pick up Patton?”

“My wallet,” Janus said.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you have that on you?”

“No, I left it in the dresser, I wanted to wear tight pants and putting things in my pockets ruins the look.”

“Wh—Janus, we’re supposed to carry our IDs on ourselves at all times when we’re on duty!”

“Nobody ever asks for my ID.” Janus waved at their scales. “They just recognize me and understand that I have a higher level of clearance than they could ever dream of.”

“Dearest, that’s illegal, you can’t just—”

“Are you saying you don’t appreciate the way I look in these?” Janus challenged, smirking. Flirting and teasing, after all, was so much easier than confronting the emotions the last hour had stirred up.

Logan paused, clearly torn. “I… did not say that. At all. And that’s actually irrelevant to my point.”

Janus pursed their lips. “Darling, I need you to understand what’s more important: a silly little law that nobody cares about anyway, or me looking hot?”

“I—what? Clearly the law that is designed to protect our safety and that of the royal family, Janus!” Logan made a bewildered gesture.

“Interesting.” Janus raised a sly eyebrow. “So there are other laws you’d be willing to rank below my appearance in terms of importance?”

“Dear,” Logan said helplessly.

Janus relented. “I’m teasing. Don’t worry.”

Logan nodded. “Alright. You need your wallet. Anything else? Keys? Hat? Cardigan?”

“All of those, yes. And that should be everything.” Janus leaned their head on Logan’s shoulder, reluctant to leave his arms.

He cradled them close. “Remember how a few days ago you told me I didn’t need to work so hard?” he asked.

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and I remember exactly what you answered, too, so if you’re about to turn that on me, I want you to know that you’re being very hypocritical. Also that I’ll be incredibly insulted that you would ever imply I would work, let alone hard or on purpose.”

Logan blinked several times. “You—we literally have a live-in job, what are you talking about?”

“Irrelevant.” Janus waved their hand. “Continue.”

Logan was still hung up on his confusion. “You voluntarily spend a decent amount of your free time behind the counter in your fathers’ bakery! What do you mean, you don’t work?”

“No, I—oh, nevermind. It’s about maintaining my reputation as a terribly high-maintenance spoiled little piece of eye candy, love, not about what I actually do. What did you want to say?”

“I— what?” Logan said helplessly. “Who thinks that of you?”

Janus sighed, trying not to laugh. “Nobody. I just like it as an idea. You were saying something about me working too hard, probably?”

“Oh.” Logan nodded, clearly refocusing. “Yes, exactly. It isn’t your job to tend to every emotional need of the people you love, you know.”

“Hmm, I don’t like the sound of that.” Janus wrinkled their nose. “What if instead I pour all my energy into manipulating every situation to protect them from even the slightest harm, and then have a total breakdown when something I can’t control happens?” They spoke lightheartedly, jokingly, sounding a little sarcastic, knowing that Logan would parse the barely-hidden vulnerability out of the sentence anyway.

Logan put his hand on their arm, looking them in the eyes. “Roman and Patton are both adults. They can handle themselves. Even through rough patches. It’s not your responsibility to protect them from everything.”

Janus whined a little, leaned forward, and pressed their face into Logan’s neck for comfort, breathing in the scent of him and feeling his warm skin against their cheek. “But I want to.”

He stroked their hair. “I know. And, as you yourself just said, if you pour all of your energy into doing so to such a great extent, you then break down when you run into the inevitable failure.”

Janus pouted. “Hey, you can’t use my own words against me, that’s illegal.”

“Like not bringing your ID to work is illegal?” Logan said, and Janus didn’t need to see his face to know the way he was raising his eyebrow.

“You’re terrible,” Janus told him, trying not to smile.

“I love you, too,” Logan responded, shifting and offering them his hand as he got to his feet. “If you want to catch the next trolley into town, you’ll need to get going to pick up Patton soon.”

Janus nodded and leaned in to press their cheek against his in something that wasn’t quite a kiss but carried the same energy. “You don’t mind staying behind?” they inquired.

Logan hummed thoughtfully. “Well. I am loath to leave you in such a state of distress, so in that sense, yes, I mind very much. But this seems like an incredibly personal family matter, and I doubt I am close enough to Patton for my presence not to feel like an intrusion to him.”

Janus wrinkled their nose, but didn’t say anything. Logan was probably correct, even if Patton would never say so aloud.

“I will be fine,” Logan assured them. “I’ve been meaning to brew some more sleeping draughts for the palace stock, anyway, you know how long they have to sit before they’re fit for use.” He squeezed their hand and nudged them towards the bedroom. “Go on, dear. Gather your things.”

Janus located their wallet and keys; then a black sunhat with a broad, round brim, because they burned easily; then a long, drapey black cardigan, because they always got cold on the trolley with its open windows.

“I’ll see you later,” Logan told them by the door, holding both their hands in his own. “Good luck. I love you. Remember that it’s not your responsibility to fix everything.”

Janus leaned down to kiss him goodbye. “I love you too,” they whispered. In a more normal voice, they added, “I’ll try and be back tonight.”

Logan nodded, and they left him in the doorway, looking after them as they started towards the garden in search of Patton.

It might not be Janus’s responsibility to fix everything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to try, anyway. All they had to do was figure out how.

taglist:

@the-sympathetic-villain

@crazydemigod666

@nightweirdo

@private-snippers

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logically-asexual · 3 years

Text

okay i'm already procrastinating and i don't plan on sleeping any time soon so here we go.

☆ ✩ my personal ranking for every season 1 Sanders Sides episode. ✩ ☆

i think it's going to be pretty similar to @dukeofonions' but let's see if i find something new to contribute haha. i see you didn't include that one about Patton in the Big Game or whatever, so i'm not including it either xd. also i think i'm going to count Accepting Anxiety as one episode only.

edit: i finished and now i dare you to drink a shot of water every time i say the word spanish or a version of the word comfort and become very well hydrated.

#16 I'm in a Disney Show

(i agree with dukeofonions here) i always forget this episode exists. it was ok in terms of being happy for real life Thomas but as a Sanders Sides episode it didn't do anything. the sides were just giving their opinions but it wasn't very funny or interesting. also i'm bitter because it made me look up the episode he was in and i didn't like it at all. i don't know if i'm too old for those Disney shows now but Thomas was literally the only good part of it, everything else was really dull and boring imo. a waste of time.

however, Logan supporting clickbait is one of the funniest things ever, and i'll never forget it.

#15 Becoming A Cartoon

i didn't hate this episode but it was just .. meh.. you know? several factors contribute to this. one, i couldn't feel much nostalgia for Butch Hartman's shows because i watched them in Spanish, and everything feels really weird when they speak English, i don't like how my old cartoons sound in English. two, it was disappointing to me because we were all desperately waiting for Plot™ and instead they give us this short episode about nothing (oh how the tables have turned now it's the other way around haha). and three, i didn't like the style of the animation :/ their faces and expressions freaked me out, Roman's douchey face still haunts me.

#14 Way Too Adult

here i'm biased because i don't like Patton much, and i didn't back when i watched the series the first time either, so this video was a little disappointingwithout the rest. also it wasn't relatable to me because i am still too young and dependent on my parents haha. but Patton is funny and it's funny to laugh at Thomas' struggling.

#13 The Dark Side of Disney

i've never been a fan of Disney movies. i actually never watched Mulan or the Lion King or Aladdin as a kid, so meh. i liked the ending, though, it was cool to see Virgil have fun and be right for once. it does make me a bit uncomfortable because the way Thomas tries too hard with Virgil's mouth movements and his low voice reminds me of a guy that had made me v uncomfortable not long before watching that video. so an icky feel overall.

#12 A New Year of Lying to Myself

this video was actually kind of fogettable to me. i had a hard time connecting the voices in the song to the characters and idk. i don't love it nor hate it, just .. neutral.

#11 My True Identity

pretty much the same opinion as dukeofonions, again. it's a good introduction and it's good that it was the beginning of it all but on its own it's not very special. i think it's awesome on Thomas to have come up with such a clever idea, like choosing the dad, the teacher and the prince and putting them together and match them with thoughts?? that fit so perfectly?? it really is just very impressive when you think about it, that it was just a random idea he had for a short 5 minute video.

#10 Taking on Anxiety

i liked this video a lot because when i watched it i had recently been a lot on tumblr, and found out through relatable posts that i had anxiety. so watching this video was really fun and it made me happy to feel so seen, specially the intro when Thomas just talks about what it's like to have Anxiety and Virgil is so smug about it.

- ★ -

okay now that those are out of the way things are going to get hard... all the following i love with all my heart so i'm going to rank them based on the smallest things.

#9 Growing Up

once more, Patton isn't my favorite. so that's why i'm putting this here, plus the echo at the end askjhsahg, but i love love this video. i remember we were waiting and oh so ready for the angst of nobody taking Patton seriously. and we received!! i love that though Roman and Logan are antagonists here, they're both so happy about Thomas wanting to have a healthy life. and i just adore the way Logan admits his mistake at the end and asks Patton directly. my heart... also aw.. the nostalgia. i remember none of us knew how to spell Patton's name and were writing it in very funny ways until Thomas and Joan told us lol.

#8 The Mind vs The Heart

when i watched this video the first times i didn't like it much, because i only had eyes for Virgil, but later i came back to it and loved it. so taking that into account i'm putting it here. logicality was the first ship i ever shipped in the show because i saw a gifset on tumblr of Patton screaming "what do you know about love?!" and Logan "apparently more than YOU" and the caption said "MARRIED", and i thought hey yeah... anyway. i love them. they're both my dads since that day.

this video is so so so relatable and i love it. Logan and Patton are so much fun arguing and i love how they compromise at the end and work together. im reconsidering.. i might move it higher? no, fine i'll leave it here.

#7 Making Some Changes

this video was absolutely hilarious. i personally couldn't see it as the Sides still once they were acted by Thomas' friends, i enjoyed it more as that bunch being silly and trying to be the sides but failing in so many ways, while sometimes nailing stuff suddenly. i really don't take this one too seriously as an episode. except Joan!Logan and Valerie!Logan, my beloved... i love how Joan acted as Logan and their voice and that they kept their ace ring on.. there's a reason i had them as my icon for so long. and Valerie looks a bit (a lot) like me with the glasses and dressed in dark colors, plus she spoke Spanish and there's .. no words to describe the joy i felt when seeing/hearing that. wait i'm getting emotional...

#6 My Personality Q&A

when i watched this Virgil was my favorite side and i didn't care much about the rest lol. when i heard his answers i related to him SO much it was scary, and also his voice is so soft and it was all very comforting. it was also when i first starting looking at Logan with more attention, because when he brought up Big Hero 6 and Fall Out Boy and said he didn't sing and would recite it like a poem? it only took a couple seconds but my brain said "me" and never went back.

now this video is a little underwhelming to watch for me, most of the appeal for me was in finding out the answers, and also watching it when we didn't know a lot about the sides. now we know more and want to know more so it's not as fun to me as it was first.

i wish so bad they'd do another one, although i know it would be more difficult with a much bigger audience, i think they can manage and i just need it. the chaos.. the energy.. they all being so savage with each other, learning little random facts about them you didn't expect.. i need it.

- ★ -

oh boy top 5 here we go. the next three are practically a tie. i can't choose.

#5 Alone on Valentines Day

i love Valerie, and the idea of this video was perfect and so perfectly excecuted. every side just giving their crazy opinions on how to woo a random stranger, i laughed SO much. first with Logan speaking simlish out of nowhere? at that point i didn't know practically anything about the sims except that it was some video game and the whiplash of Logan going AYO and the rest killed me. then when Roman whipped out that dialogue in Spanish??? my life was completed. i've never felt more happy than i did in that moment gosh. just the hilarity of Roman's drama, the shock of them speaking Spanish suddenly like that, the absolute JOY of seeing a creator i like speak (may i say) perfect Spanish, the other characters' faces after that.. never been happier.

also the conclusion was so cute. Virgil solving the whole problem without wanting to. i loved it.

#4 Am I Original

i think this video speaks for itself. it was fun to watch them all do the ideas Roman had, plus Logan and Virgil nodding at each other, (i love them so much), plus the angst at the end of Roman's perfectionism, plus Roman's just perfect name. this video has it all.

i think Thomas posted it kind of late at night and i watched it at 7am in the classroom as i waited for my classmates to arrive and the class to start. (i usually was like 40 minutes early to school due to mom’s work). i had to contain my laughter and it wasn’t easy.

#3 Losing My Motivation

i started loving this video after a while, when Logan passed Virgil in the position for my favorite side. but once he did this episode was beautiful. it's so funny and i love Logan and Patton's dynamic so much. and the video also so damn relatable in general. i felt so seen with it because they named all the problems i have when procrastinating, down to Patton's vague explanation of his feelings, it's exactly how i feel every time i want to do stuff. and the plot twist! i can hear the dramatic sound effect and see how they all turn to Logan clearly in my head, and it always makes me smile. plus there's so much Logan angst that can be dug up and overanalized. i love to watch it over and over.

#2 Accepting Anxiety

this video was perfect. everything we wanted. we knew it was coming and it delivered perfectly, better than any fanfic done in the waiting time. the week between the parts was agonizing but in a fun way somehow. i remember precisely when i was watching part 2 in my living room. i screamed. and i cried, a lot. i was feeling terrible at that time in my life and Thomas was such a comforting presence and i can't begin to describe how this episode made me feel.

and later it is always fun to rewatch with all their different reactions to being in Virgil's room, the energy of that was on point. Thomas is such a great actor and the characters where just amazingly performed. plus it gave so much to talk adn think about, the idea of the rooms, lots lots of insight into the characters, foreshadowing, so much. it's just perfect i have nothing else to say.

#1 (for purely emotional reasons, ironically) My Negative Thinking

i think Accepting Anxiety is the best episode of the season objectively but my favorite is My Negative Thinking. because i love Virgil and Logan so much and seeing them argue together was and is great. the comfort.. i can't repeat that word enough throughout this post. it's such a soft video while not being overwhelming with Patton and Roman's outbursts. just quiet (mostly) and clear and with perfectly timed humour.

Logan my beloved.. learning spanish... helping me with my own anxiety.. and their debate was so good. and the fact that they were friends i- i can't. Virgil didn't think Logan liked him and Logan told him explicitly that he did and the casual softness of it i cant even. Logan is happy that he tried.. it's just marvelous. Virgil and Logan as best friends will always be my favorite pair, and their dynamic will always be what i strive for in any relationship i might form, with both sides silently comforting each other within their own limits and realistic perspectives. so nice.

- ★ -

so yeah. that's all. thank you if you read all the way up to here. ♡ ♡ ♡

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders

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wisherbysharlight · 4 years

Text

WHAT IF... SANDERS SIDES BUT MAKE IT A TROPEY TEEN BEACH AU

Endgame!LAMP. Dukeceit, Remile

Just 2k stream of consciousness words from a plunny that grew legs TW for v slight underage drinking, one joking mention of violence, and a non-specific discussion of intrusive thoughts

-Janus has just moved there because his parents wanted to start a new "adventure" and he is a Stereotypical Teenager. Very "ugh MOM I wanna go back to my FRIENDS for my LAST SUMMER BEFORE COLLEGE"(most of his friends suck. He should not spend time with them. He does not know this)

His Parents buy him a surfboard and tell him to try it out as a way to get him to Shut Up

Hes a Skater Boy(cue music) so he picks it up super fast from like,,, youtube videos

-He gets told to Get a Job if he wants to like, keep buying surf gear?

All the local kids work at like one restaurant/yacht club type place right on the beach

Janus gets hired as a host

-Logan is a beach badge checker, Patton, Roman, and Remus are beachfront restaurant waiters but Roman just Really Wants To Surf, Emile and Virgil are Lifeguards, and Remy is a bartender

-Janus is Very Good At Customer Service because Fake Smiles

Patton recognizes this Immediately

He shows him the Rage Closet which is a tiny room with an arm chair that locks from the inside where you can punch a pillow on your break when it gets to be Too Much

-Janus is Attached now and there is no getting rid of him

Patton Fully Endorses this and introduces him to the rest of the group

Janus Knows Immediately that LAMP is In Love but says nothing because he aint no snitch

-Remus surfs, but he also always wear a thong while doing it

Roman wears a full wetsuit and somehow still gets Board Rash. Remus is somehow immune and it infuriates him

-Janus, not knowing that the twins live right on the beach cuz they are RichTM: Hey Ree I kinda wanna learn how to surf would you be able to teach me

Remus, who religiously watches Janus surf every morning, but is absolutely willing to play this game: Yeah absolutely

Patton, later: “lets rinse off at the twins they’re right here” Janus: theyre.... What?!

-Meanwhile, elsewhere, Virgil and Roman are double teaming Logan to drag him into the water with them cuz he’s pouting about losing a debate with their manager about how he didn’t really be mean to the dudebro who wanted to get his buddies onto the beach without paying, he was just enforcing the rules. And if the dude was so offended by Logan’s Very Accurate Dragging that he complained to management then, well, that’s his problem not Logan’s

-Logan is never without a book. Ever. And its always a different book. Janus is starting to think he owns a library

One day he is just... reading a Physics textbook. Not taking notes or anything. Just reading.

Roman is Very Very Alarmed by this because he is Gay and Math is Scary

"Roman I'm also gay that is not a determining factor"

"Yeah but you can't drive"

"...fair"

-the first time janus has a shift with the twins, he cant stop staring, not just because hes like,,, super attracted to Remus but also because they are like Chaos Incarnate and yet somehow get the most tips??? He doesn't understand???

It's just cuz they are both Huge Flirts and Flatterers and the patrons dont care that they're not-so-subtly beating the shit out of each other right there on the dining floor because theyre just so charming

-one of the bartenders gets aggressively snapped at by a customer and called "sweetheart" and before Janus can even begin to react Remy is there, sunglasses off, fire in his eyes, telling them to settle their bill and get the fuck out

Janus, used to City Restaurants- "Wont you get in trouble with the owner?!"

Remy, who knows Nothing Else But This- "What?? Not likely I only did it cuz Thomathy wasnt here to do it himself"

-the restaurant is closed Monday and Tuesday so that is the Pseudo Weekend for the staff where everyone hangs out at the beach

Emile and Virgil take Tuesdays off but still work Monday’s cuz they feel better being the one watching over their friends

-Roman, staring at Virgil on the lifeguard stand: ugh he’s so pretty I almost wish I was drowning just so he could give me cpr

Janus: you wanna potentially get your ribs broken just for lip contact?

Remy, staring at Emile on the lifeguard stand: listen, if that’s what it takes, I’ll take it

Remus, immediately going up to the lifeguard stand because he has 0 impulse control: hey my brother and cousin want you to break their ribs

Virgil and Emile: excuse me?????

-Patton will literally spend hours in the water. Logan physically drags him out to put sunscreen on him every two hours to the minute. Patton does not admit that he purposely "forgets" just so Logan will do so

Logan is Dark and has never used sunscreen ever but Patton is so pale and he just gets so concerned about him. Patton thinks its adorable

He has pages of research on proper spf determination.

Roman and Remus use spf 15 just on their faces and have never once burned in their lives

Logan wants to submit them for scientific study because that shouldnt be possible

Virgil calls Logan out on the fact that he also should be wearing sunscreen and Logan like... blue screens he cant believe in all his research he missed that

-Patton is like... a ridiculously strong swimmer. Virgil still has a heart attack every time he goes for laps when there is the slightest hint of an undertow

Patton Knows This so he tries to stay in Virgil's sight line for the most part if there is an undertow. Or just dives over the waves again and again.

His nickname is Ariel. He thinks its just cuz of the swimming and the fact hes a red head. LAP all separately also tack on that its the swimming, the red hair, and the hnng pretty 10/10 would follow out to sea ala Prince Eric

-first beach bonfire Janus goes to Remy is Fully In Emile's Lap like... half an hour in

he has had like maybe a sip of a beer

Remus says he still claims this is because he is a Clingy Drunk

no one will call him on it, least of all Emile

-there is truth or dare. Roman may or may not skinny dip you have no proof

-Logan gets infuriated that he cannot roast a marshmallow properly

Patton does it perfectly every single time but its ok cuz he shares and Logan eats it right from his fingers and Roman and Virgil are just in the background Trying and Failing not to be the Most Jealous

Patton thinks theyre upset they didn't get marshmallows and makes some for them too and there is lots of Significant Eye Contact involved

Janus is going to spontaneously combust if they don't get their shit together

-Janus is out walking on the beach one night on a full moon cuz he cant sleep with everything so quiet around here when he sees a bright green patch out in the water and goes ...wait

he calls out to Remus and he comes into shore and is like "waves are perfect at night you should join me" so janus goes back and gets his board and they surf and chat for like the entire night

Janus finds out Remus couldn't sleep cuz intrusive thoughts were keeping him awake

Janus listens and doesn't judge, just lets Remus talk it out

They go back to shore and fall asleep on the sand next to each other like mid sentence still talking, now about whatever creative business idea Remus had, and get woken up by Logan's morning rounds like "come on guys you know you're not allowed to sleep out here" but they dont care theyre both just *blushing emoji*

-Logan Always Has A Notebook right? And a regular book he reads. And everyone assumes they are like Notions and Observations, but no, it’s actually blank paper and he uses it to sketch and then one day he leaves it behind and someone either Virgil or Patton finds it and flips through it and it’s all sketches of them and Roman and they’re like??? Actually really good? Anyway that’s how they find out Logan is actually minoring in art even though he’s majoring in something Very STEM

And he never told his best friends because like almost all his pre college art is Them and he doesn’t want to be caught having Feelings and by the time it gets to college it’s been too long and he can’t tell them now

Roman takes one of the sketches of him surfing and makes it his profile picture on All Social Media He Has and Logan is so flustered he nearly breaks his damn phone

Patton is so offended he didn’t get invited to Logan’s first showcase that he doesn’t talk to him for like two whole hours

Virgil quietly asks if there is any art of all four of them, finds out there is, and makes a print and keeps it on his bedside table

-They are all Pining Outwardly Now and its Worse

-Remus : you have known them since pre-k please ask them out I beg of you

Roman: You just dont get it

Remus: I asked Janus out after 4 weeks what is your problem

Emile: Virgil, I love you, you are my Partner in Anti-Drowning but you are so stupid

Virgil: What???? All I said is that you and Remy are really cute and I'd love to be in a relationship like that

Emile: I am not a violent person, Virgil, but I have the strong urge to smack you

Patton, in the Rage Closet: They're all just so hOT and ReSPEctFUL

Janus, waiting for his turn, trying to act like he cant hear him: I Am Looking Elsewhere

Logan: I just don't understand why they were more upset that I didn't tell them than that I'd been making art of them for years?? Shouldn't that second part be worse??

Remy, who has been partial to Every Single One Of AMP Waxing Poetic About Logan: Yeah, no idea /s

-the twins get into a surfing competition as a pair and everyone goes to see them and support them

Thomas airs the competition on every tv in the restaurant cuz he’s Proud of his Bois

They WIN cuz they are Creative and Talented and came up with all sorts of crazy tricks while they were fucking around in the water but it earns them Major Bonus Points for originality

-Roman does the run off the podium and into Love’s arms trope with just like... whoever’s closest lets go Patton because he is a Waif and forced himself up front so he can see

The other two are Devastated because well shit but then Roman pushes through the crowd, still holding Patton’s hand, and gives them this smile and is like “remember in like second grade when we said we’d do everything together and made a pact on this beach”

Analogical: uhhhhhh yeah

Roman: holding you both to it. No take backs. This counts. Now kiss me, dammit, we WON and they DO MANY TIMES AND ITS REAL CUTE

-Meanwhile dukeceit have Mysteriously Disappeared and No One wants to be the ones to go find them. They show back up, eventually. Janus has a branch in his hair and remus' hair is sticking straight up and when he opens his mouth roman glares at him and tells him in no uncertain terms that they do not want to know

AnYWaY these are my children and I will gladly answer any questions about them. I left out Janus Backstory and Creativitwins Angst and Many Individual LAMP Scenes and Remile/Dukeceit getting together and Epilogue but can absolutely provide such things on request

#romantic lamp #dukeceit #remile #ts fic #sanders sides fic #remus mention #tropey beach au #listen im not responsible for what i do when on the beach with discord open #this is so self indulgent my god

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nbrook29 · 3 years

Text

Okay it seems like they’re gone for the time being so 👀

Part 2&3 of Sander in NYC ‘verse ⬇️

The clock strikes midnight on his bedside table while Robbe is stretched on his bed, head propped on his hand as he’s staring at his computer screen, weariness coursing through his body. He stifles a big yawn and tries to blink the sleep away, but it doesn’t do much to erase the feeling of what seems to be yet another longest day he’s had. Wiggling his butt to find a more comfortable position, he reaches for his phone and opens instagram to kill time. After scrolling for a few minutes he gives up, the app failing to distract him from his heavy thoughts and only making him more irritated in the process.

He tosses the phone on the mattress with frustration, sighing deeply. Staring mindlessly at the ceiling doesn’t make the clock tick any faster so he allows himself to close his eyes.

Just for a little, just for a moment. Long enough so he can pretend he can feel a dip in the mattress and that there’s a certain someone lying by his side, only mere millimeters separating their bodies instead of 5,870 kilometers.

In the end, it makes him feel even worse than he has the whole day. Because there is no one next to him when his fingers venture out tentatively, grazing the sheets on the side of the bed that has been Sander’s since that November night.

The memory makes him smile a little, albeit involuntarily. But how can he not when he remembers the boy’s pouty face, petulance in his voice when he refused to sleep on the left side, stubborn like a bratty five-year-old, and Robbe would have laughed at his expression if he hadn’t been gazing at him like a fool in love the entire night. So he of course granted him HIS own preferred side, getting an abundance of kisses all over his face in gratitude and tickles that almost woke the whole house up.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Not then, and not many times later. What’s the point of choosing sides when most of the time they would sleep on each other’s chest anyway, head tucked in the crook of the other’s neck, nose squished into the underside of the jaw despite the tickling sensation of barely there stubble? Or, during other nights, curled into each other in spooning position, no space between them.

The incoming messenger call rudely disrupts his musings, preventing him from almost falling asleep, and he pushes himself up a bit and scrubs his face, fingers running quickly through his hair to make it look at least a little more presentable.

The face that greets him after he answers the call makes his eyes sting but he blames it on exhaustion.

“Hey, cutie.”

Beautiful. He looks so beautiful. Hair in disarray, cheeks rosy and he’s positively glowing, grinning at him with the same adoration and love he always has and Robbe’s heart is bursting with how much it hurts not to be able to cup his cheek right now.

They haven’t talked since last Thursday, both of them so busy with college work. The fact that there are 6 hours between them isn’t exactly helping. They have been messaging back and forth a lot, but it wasn’t the same.

Lately, Robbe has been feeling like a crucial part of him was ripped off and boarded the plane to New York along with Sander. It’s been a struggle without him here and not letting Sander notice how much he's hurting has been a struggle on its own.

“You’re okay?”

Robbe must’ve been staring without a word for longer than he thought because when he focuses properly he notices a small frown on Sander’s forehead.

He plasters a fake smile on his face. “Yeah! Sorry, just tired.”

He shrugs in hopes it will help to sell his cheeriness better, but the way Sander regards him with concern makes him doubt it.

“Robbe…”

Cutting him off quickly, he starts rambling. “So how was that school trip yesterday, huh? Still not bored of MoMA? I mean, you’ve been there like a hundred times by now,” Robbe ends on a teasing note, eyebrows wiggling for a better effect, anything to not let him notice he’s not okay.

It works, Sander’s face partially offended, partially scandalized at such outrageous suggestion, and he breathes out with relief.

“Excuse me, skater boy, some of us have enough taste to appreciate modern art for its greatness-”

“Yeah, art nerds.”

Sander’s jaw drops comically at his triumphant expression. “Oh my god, you’re such a brat!” He shakes his head in faux-disapproval, but the smile doesn’t disappear from his eyes as he easily gets into their usual banter. “Wish I was there to snog you into submission,” he adds, chuckling, unaware of the turmoil inside Robbe, who’s trying to hold on for dear life, blinking the tears away.

This time though, his smile fails to be convincing enough. Sander’s laughter dies out, his eyes searching Robbe’s for answers.

“Baby, what’s going on?”

Robbe squeezes his lips together to keep the emotions at bay and lowers his eyes so Sander couldn’t read him like an open book. He squirms on the bed, trying to give himself time so make sure his voice won’t quiver and that he can sell this thing.

“Nothing.”

“But that’s not true, I can see that.” He’s speaking so gentle, so soothingly.

It doesn’t make him raise his head, eyes still glued to the mattress as he’s twisting his fingers hoping Sander will just let it go.

Cause he doesn’t want him to know. That he’s a mess. That he’s not doing that good.

He doesn’t need to know he’s been watching his wandelingen videos on repeat. That he misses him so much he created a TikTok account to ‘stalk’ his new classmates accounts to catch a glimpse of him laughing and having fun when they’re hanging out, having picnics in Central Park despite low temperatures or drinking coffee and acting like dumbasses at Union Square.

He doesn’t need to know the reality hit Robbe hard and that he’s not the best at coping.

That he’s anxious because the texts between them aren’t as frequent as they used to be in the beginning.

That he had a serious fallout with Jens after already losing touch with Moyo and Aaron.

That he feels lonely.

And that’s missing him like a limb.

He doesn’t want him to know because Sander’s going to worry about him and that’s not why he went away to New York for five months. Correction, six months.

Yeah, that lovely update didn’t exactly make his mood lift when he found out a week ago about Sander having to extend his stay to be able to participate in the February art show his school holds.

There’s still three and a half months before he can bury his face in the crook of his neck and taste his lips. Touch is Robbe's love language so to say he misses the way Sander's hands feel on him would be an understatement of the year. And they both know by now Sander’s not coming back for Christmas despite his promise he’ll try.

“Please talk to me, please, baby.”

One shaky breath after another and Robbe feels wetness on his cheeks, mortification filing him when he realizes it’s tears, and Sander now has a clear view of the situation.

Still, he tries to deflect one more time, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve surreptitiously.

“It’s nothing, really… I’m okay, just miss you.” Another unconvincing smile.

He knows Sander is watching him like a hawk, confused and worried, he can feel it without even lifting his eyes to the screen. When he peaks just for a moment, he sees the desperate look on his face.

“I miss you too, so much, you have no idea,” he pauses, shifting closer to the screen like he wants to physically be closer to him, somehow. “But I know that’s not all, so please tell me what’s wrong so I can help you. Did something happen? Is your mom okay?”

Robbe nods because thankfully, everything has been going smoothly in that area. His mom’s been doing better than he could have hoped for, actually.

“Then what is it?” he keeps pressing, stubbornly, adamant to figure it out, but Robbe really doesn’t feel like talking about it.

“Look, it’s not a big deal, I just had a rough few days, okay? Can we talk about something else?” he pleads, but to no avail.

“No, we can’t because I don’t understand why you don’t want me to help you, Robbe.”

There’s a hint of annoyance in his voice, the confusion getting to him, and Robbe feels even worse, curling a little into himself.

“I just- I don’t wanna bother you-”

“What?” Sander sounds stunned. “Bother me- what the hell?”

“I just want you to have fun there, I’m gonna be fine.”

When Robbe glances back at the screen, he’s met with Sander’s eyes boring holes into him, quietly assessing him, and he knows it’s far from over.

But he’s just so tired. With this week, and his school work, with his emotional state and lonely nights. He’s just really tired.

On the screen, Sander sighs, scrubbing his face with his hand, his silver ring glinting in the computer light. A while passes before he finally speaks, quietly, looking back at him.

“You know, I feel like you think our skype calls are like chores for me that I keep in my calendar and can’t wait to tick off and be done with.”

Robbe opens his mouth, but no words come out, his sleep-fogged brain taking its time to sort through Sander’s word.

“Wow, you really think that?” Robbe hates himself for the hurt lacing Sander’s words. “You really think I don’t miss you? That I don’t count days until I can see you again for real, are you serious, Robbe?”

“Don’t get mad at me,” he asks in a small voice, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling.

“I’m not-”, Sander cuts off, lacing his fingers on the back of his lowered head, clearly frustrated and at loss of what to say next. “I just thought we were honest with each other, that we were communicating.”

The comment stings, even if it wasn’t meant to, and Robbe swallows the bile rising in his throat. Sander’s disappointed, he can see that, but he’s honestly not in the right state of mind right now for long talks about his feelings and insecurities.

“I should go.”

Sander's head shots right up at that. "Robbe, wait-"

"Don't worry about me." He sends him a forced smile before shutting his laptop and pushing it away from himself, breathing shakily as he hides his face in his hands.

Several notifications ping on his phone, but he ignores them all, knowing they're from Sander.

It's funny how this morning he thought he couldn't feel worse.

***

Friday 6:20 pm EST from Sander

Please pick up so we can talk

Or text me

Robbe?

I'm so worried

Friday 6:45 pm EST from Sander

I love you okay? ❤

Friday 8:03 pm EST from Sander

It's 2 am at yours so I hope you're asleep but I just need you to know that I love you and whatever it is you're going through we'll deal with it together okay?

Friday 8:07 pm EST from Sander

I think about you everyday and I miss you everyday

And it doesn't matter my trip here was supposed to be fun or whatever

I'm still your boyfriend and me being away doesn't change the fact that I want to be there for you

You should know that by now

You're not some kind of duty for me, it breaks my heart you'd think that

Your problems matter to me

I'm here, always, remember?

Please text me when you wake up ❤

Ik zie u graag Robin ❤❤❤😘

#wtfock #sander in nyc verse

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