#brotherly moceit

[anxiouslyfred]

Funbruary 2020 Fics

Yeah, I don’t miss doing my prompts the way I did this one 2 years ago. I can write things I’m more interested in writing with how I do them nowadays

You need Cuddles - Solo Logan needing touch

Days on the Trains - Royality meeting/ date

Playing with Dolls - Thomas & Patton playing together

Break-time catch ups - Roman, Logan & Emile gossiping

Street Performers - Creativitwins + Logan

Blanket Piles - Roman

Dog Walking - Virgil, Remy, Dee, and Romulus

Painting the Walls - Patton

Making Chocolates - Logan, Remy, Emile & Roman

Discovery of Magic - Thomas, Logan, Remy and King Creativity

Soft Toys in Random Places - Anxsleep, Thomsleep

At the Museum - Logan, Deceit and Thomas

Hiking Over Hills - Thomas

Bike Ride - Roman

Unexpected Coffee Shops - Roman, Emile & Logan- same au as row 4

Sharing Music - Logince & Thoman

Letters - Logicality

Badger Watching - Roman

Kitten Cuddles - Parental Thomxiety, Parental King Creativity&Roman

Garden Bonfires - Moceit

Lunch Breaks - Remus runs a cafe - 1st Chaos Cafe fic

Boat Ride - Virgil, Patton & Remy

Baking the Cake - Remus, Deceit, Logan & Emile

Teddy Bears Picnic - Thomsleep & King Creativity

Gardening Together - Brotherly Romas

Quiet Afternoons - Everyone chilling

Spiritual Centres - Patton

Dancing in the Rain - Thomas, Roman, Remus and Virgil

Exploring New Towns - Creativitwins & Dukexiety

[aliferous-ly]

I've never really asked for a drabble before... If it's okay with you, could you do 7 "I almost lost you" and 32 "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified" with Logan and Deceit? I just kinda thought that it had the potential to make some angst with a happy ending. Oh and I only found you recently, but I love the writing that I've seen so far. I always love finding amazing writers. (I'm sorry, I'm a total suck up)

im gonna start this with if you’re on mobile, i am So Sorry

i started this and was like “ha im getting a little carried away” and then went “oh no” 

and thank u dear!! that’s v sweet of u awe 

summary: Declan is a loud and proud aromantic. Then he realizes why he feels weird, and off, and awkward around his best friend, Logan, and his world starts to crumble. 

warnings: f word twice, lying, parent being imprisoned, angst, questioning identity, if there’s anything else lmk!!

It starts, Declan thinks, when Logan smiles. 

The situation starts out innocuous -- they’re sitting in Logan’s room, Declan tossing a tennis ball up and catching it unsuccessfully, making a right disaster of Logan’s room with all the objects he keeps knocking to the floor. Logan, naturally, continues doing his homework. 

And they’re just -- talking. 

Declan likes to think his world should shift on a more momentous occasion, maybe with fireworks, fingers brushing against one another dramatically, Jason Mraz playing in the background. 

But it’s the smallest thing. Declan throws the tennis ball up in the middle of his sentence -- “You can’t tell me you hate white pines, they have the softest needles” -- and he misses it on the way down. 

So he takes a tennis ball to the face and sits up, sputtering, rubbing at his nose, arm reaching out to snatch it before it rolls too far. 

Logan chokes out a laugh, eyes squinty and wrinkled at the edges. His laugh fills the room for a few thrilling moments and Declan thinks it’s the most beautiful sound in the world and he can’t stop staring at Logan’s engaging face, in the upturn of his lips and dimples carved in his cheeks. 

He’s radiant. 

Declan’s heart squeezes, lungs filling with something heavier than air, a foreign feeling washing through his veins. Like rose petals or sunlight. Woodsmoke or freshly fallen snow. 

The gears in his chest shift and settle and he feels… right. More right than he’s ever been. 

Which is, of course, why fear swiftly follows this gorgeous wash of emotions, because this is unusual and anything unusual is often bad. 

Declan forces down the incoming wave of anxiety, schooling his expression into one of smooth disdain. 

Just in time, too, because Logan opens his mouth and says, “It was only a matter of time until you paid for your crimes.”

“I’m too pretty to die,” Declan replies, thanking the heavens that while his brain may be steadily turning into mush (have Logan’s eyes always been that striking? Or his shoulders that broad?) his tongue still works. 

“Implying Death themself has a type, intriguing,” Logan says. He flashes a look over his computer, the after effects of joy still written on his features. “Bold of you to declare what Death likes.” 

Declan tries for a smirk but can feel the way his mouth turns to genuine grin, the traitor. “Aw, Logie, are you saying I’m not everyone’s type?” 

“That would be rather ironic, wouldn’t it?” Logan says wryly. He types away at his computer, dutiously finishing an English assignment that Declan is currently ignoring for bigger and better things. “The aromantic everyone pines over.” 

That strikes an odd chord in Declan’s chest, like he’s a half-tone off; not quite wrong, but not quite right, either. His expression must change, because Logan pauses in his typing. He blinks at Declan. “Something wrong?” 

Of course, that’s when Declan’s brain decides that those words are simply too much, too much, his shoulders tightening, back tensing. It’s like his rib cage is squeezing his vital organs, which seems rather counterintuitive. He hates this unknown, this awkward buzz against his skin, the prickling feeling through his bones. 

The resounding crash of everything happening all at once is overwhelming and Declan can’t seem to decide whether to sit as still as humanly possible or bolt. 

Or, of course, do what he does best. 

Lie. 

“I forgot to do something for my mom,” Declan says, barely registering the words before they fall from his lips. He hasn’t lied to Logan in a very, very long time (he knows it’s because they have been best friends for ages, but his mind twists it into something of a foreshadow, even though it’s not, it’s not) and the resurgence of his bad habits leaves a nasty taste in his mouth, but. Desperate times. Desperate measures. 

“Oh,” Logan says, disappointed, and Declan longs to explain -- what? 

He angrily shoves the emotions deep into his chest. If he can’t explain them, he’s not going to give them the right of control over his actions. 

(He ignores the prevalent fact that he has just lied to his best friend in order to escape his presence, but denial, evidently, is not just a river in Egypt). 

“Sorry,” Declan spits out, meaning so much more than it seems. He stands, grabs his backpack, shoving papers and folders into it haphazardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow,” Logan calls out hollowly. Declan takes that as his leave and he slips out Logan’s bedroom door, backpack in tow, keys clicking in his pocket. 

Something deep inside him aches. But he doesn’t know why. 

Frustrated, Declan gets into his car and slams the door shut, fingers white-knuckled against the steering wheel. He takes a breath. He’s fine, he’s fine. He’s probably just sick, or something. 

Or something. 

Not for the first time, Declan longs for a working aux connection. 

Because flicking through radio stations does not help. 

Lewis Capaldi croons Someone you loved on one, Sam Smith singing Dancing with a Stranger. He woefully flips through two channels on commercial break, groaning when the last one has Adele, which, really?

He remembers Virgil’s favorite station, and turns up the volume to forty, My Chemical Romance’s Mama screaming from his speakers. He pulls into his driveway with Hallelujah by Panic! at the Disco blowing his ears out when he remembers that Logan once spent hours rambling about Brenden Urie and a conspiracy about curses and he slams his palms on his steering wheel, furious. 

Can he not escape Logan for a moment? 

As Declan slams the car door shut, throwing his backpack over his shoulders, and freezes at the sight of the stupid Beware, dog sign that Logan had vandelized to read Beware, snake, he realizes that no, he really can’t. Because Logan is his best friend, his favorite person, and his life is irreversibly intertwined with Logan unless he up and leaves with absolutely nothing, starting from scratch. Which would be worse than death. 

He trudges up the stairs like a funeral dirge and when his door shuts with a click he leans against it, steadily sliding down until his knees almost touch his chin. 

“Fuck,” Declan says out loud, unable to keep the emotion termoil inside like it should be. 

His phone buzzes where it fell from his hands, angry against the carpet. Declan sighs. Rubs a hand down his face. And picks up the phone. 

There’s one text from Logan that reads, “are you okay? I’m not irritated but you left rather…” 

Well. The beginning reads as such. Declan assumes there’s more, but he’s unwilling to open it for the time being. 

Then he has three from Virgil, two of which reference an obscure meme video and the third which reads “r u home i wanna play dark souls on ur ps4”. 

And there’s a text from Patton asking if he wants normal chocolate chips or mint ones, and a followup that proclaims “never mind i got both! :3c”. 

He sends a quick “no” back to Virgil and merely opens the texts from Patton, leaving only Logan’s unopened. I’m not irritated but you left rather… suddenly? 

A strange emotion flutters about Declan’s chest and he groans. He doesn’t feel this way about his other friends, not even Virgil, who he’s known for ages and has gone through four too many devastating arguments to not be close with. Nor does he feel like this with Patton, his brother. Those bonds are, he’s certain, platonic--

Declan lurches forwards with a gasp, the realization bowling him over and leaving him breathless. He curls his fingers into the carpet, focusing on the texture instead of the immediate swirl of panic. 

He -- does he have a crush on Logan? Him, Declan, the aromantic king, who once boasted the world could never produce a human Declan could fall in love with?

And it doesn’t track with him falling for Logan either because Declan would have loved him months earlier, suddenly falling in love with someone he’s loved platonically… it just doesn’t make sense. Declan can’t wrap his mind around it. 

Maybe he’s just reading the emotions wrong. How can he -- what can he do that -- which -- 

What would Logan do? 

An experiment, Declan’s mind supplies helpfully, so, well. Declan pressed his back against the wood of his door and thinks. 

Hypothesis: he’s in love with Logan. 

In love? A very rational part of his brain yells. You were talking about a crush before!

So Declan thinks, and revises. Hypothesis: he’s feeling romantic attraction to Logan. 

Then he takes a few minutes trying to remember the following step in the scientific method and ends up looking it up on his phone, and it’s really long so he’s just going to cut some corners. 

Procedure: 

Well, Declan can’t think of any way to do this physically without making an entire fool of himself, so he changes the experiment into a thought experiment. 

Procedure: Consider emotions of other relationships and compare to feelings for Logan. 

Okay. Declan settles. He considers. He tries to imagine holding hands with Virgil and giving him flowers, but he can’t really picture giving Logan flowers either, so if it’s weird for both -- but he wants to hold Logan’s hand, not Virgil’s, and sometimes Patton’s, and Patton is his brother, he knows for sure his emotions are strictly platonic. So if Patton is the control group, the certainty of platonic emotions, Virgil is the one with normal emotions, and Logan has some weird emotions, so if Virgil and Logan’s are merely two different shades of friendship then Declan will know. 

Declan closes his eyes and imagines kissing Logan, because that’s what romantic partners do, right? He imagines stepping closer to him until there’s inches of space between them.. Declan thinks about leaning in, brushing lips before pressing in, heat curling in his chest and oh god, oh god Declan’s face is on fire. 

His eyes shoot open and he can only imagine how panicked he must look right now. He presses his hand against his chest, taking deep breaths. Then, reluctantly, he thinks about kissing Virgil -- nope, nope, eugh he physically shakes his head, gut rolling uncomfortably. 

So that is a big contender for Declan has romantic feelings for Logan. 

He sighs and clunks his head against the door. This sucks. Declan hates feelings. 

The door downstairs sounds, opening and closing, followed by a resounding, “HEY, CICI, LOVE YOU!” 

Dee sighs, a smile flickering across his face. He pushes to his feet and exits his room, wandering downstairs, aloof. 

“Hey Pat,” he says, leaning against a wall. 

“Ci, I’m making lots of cookies!” Patton declares, beaming at him, and Declan’s heart drops. 

His expression must, too, because Patton’s features are suddenly painted in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“I should be asking you that,” Declan says, and he feels bad, unexpectedly, for not replying to Patton’s text earlier. “Lots of cookies? With mint and chocolate chips? Enough to feed an army?” 

Patton’s arms wilt and Declan reads the tremor in his shoulders, the glisten of his eyes. Patton tries for a smile and misses by a mile. 

Declan crosses to where Patton stands in five steps, wrapping his arms around his smaller brother, pressing his cheek against Patton’s head. “What’s wrong?” 

Patton takes a shuddering breath, returning the hug. “Nothing, really. I’m glad you’re home.” 

“Ah,” Declan says. He tightens his grip on Patton. “Do you want help?” 

“No.” Patton presses his face into Declan’s chest. He’s shaking, ever so slightly. “Can you talk with me at the counter, though?” 

“Of course,” Declan agrees, mentally side-tabling his emotional turmoil. 

“Okay,” Patton says. He’s quiet for a few more moments, then says, “And Steven Universe later?” 

“Anything,” Declan says. He makes a face. The word had slipped out unbidden, but Patton doesn’t tease him for it. 

“Alright.” Patton pulls away, takes a breath. “I’m about to make the best damn cookies the world has ever seen.” 

“Damn straight,” Declan says, grinning. Patton pauses for just one moment more before moving to the kitchen, dropping various ingredients onto the counter and moving smoothly to gather more. 

Declan wonders at his influence on Patton’s vulgar mouth, then shrugs. Patton’s a teenager. He can do what he wants. 

“Weren’t you hanging out with Logan?” Patton asks conversationally. He’s pulling down bowls and sugar, obviously expecting easy small talk. And normally Logan is easy for Declan to talk about. He talks about him all the time.  

So when Declan winces, Patton turns and addresses him with full attention, brows furrowed. “What? What happened?” 

“I…” Declan considers for a moment to just lie about it but dismisses the thought. This is Patton. “I think I have a romantic attraction for him.” 

Saying it out loud only cements the certainty in Declan’s chest. No, he hasn’t quite completed the experiment, but he just… knows. 

The knowledge is both relieves and spikes his anxiety about the whole situation. 

“Oh,” Patton says, eyes wide. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Declan says honestly. 

“Alright,” Patton says. He turns back around and a wave of affection flows through Declan. “How did Roman do on his audition?” 

Declan hums, eternally grateful for Patton’s ability to turn the conversation away. They talk about Roman’s skill as an actor for a few minutes, jumping to Patton’s involvement in VEX robotics (focusing on the robotics instead of the people) and they kill about forty minutes with Patton talking about his baby bot, Pat Jr. 

When the clock strikes seven, Declan throws together two grilled cheese sandwiches and they eat in front of Steven Universe and the gems, Declan stretched out along the couch and Patton creating a throne of blankets for himself. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Patton murmurs, eyes never straying from the bursts of pastel on the screen, “but if you do have a romantic attraction to Logan it’s okay. You weren’t wrong in saying you’re aromantic. Because that fits you, you like it. There’s just more strings attached than you originally thought.” 

Declan blinks, the smallest smile growing on his face. “Thanks, Pat.” 

Patton hugs a pillow, eyes bright. “Love you, Ci.” 

Declan pushes his foot against Patton’s blanket pile in response. 

--

“Do you think we have to move?” Patton says, three hours into their movie night. 

Declan breathes, slowly inhaling as if it gives him an excuse to not reply. “I didn’t. I don’t want to. But probably.” 

“That’s why you haven’t told anyone,” Patton says. He shifts, turning to look at Declan. Declan maintains eye contact with the screen, despite having seen this movie countless times. “And why you told me to keep it under wraps.” 

“Yes,” Declan says, because really, he lies to the world, but he doesn’t lie to Patton. 

He tries not to lie to Patton. 

“But something changed yesterday.” Patton’s not asking questions. Somehow, he just knows, despite being left out of the loop. “And you were going to tell Logan today.” 

“Yes,” Declan says. Static thrums through his veins. Aladdin ignores a buzzing genie on screen, swatting him away to benefit his own desires. 

“What happened?” 

“Mom’s not getting out,” Declan says simply, because that’s it, really. Their mother is not getting out of jail. And with no father, their final hope is their uncle, three states over. Their father’s brother. 

Two months away from eighteen, and Declan is forced to concede. 

“When?” Patton asks. He’s trembling, but he’s not crying. Declan knows that will come later. 

“Because of the legal mixups and leaning on Sasha, two weeks, probably,” Declan says. Sasha is, of course, their next door neighbor, the crazy cat lady of the street who “watches” the boys “all the time”. 

“Two weeks,” Patton whispers. There’s a sheen in his eyes. Declan tries not to look but his gaze is like a magnet and Patton stares, stares, stares. “That’s not enough time. That’s not…”

Declan closes his eyes. 

He really thought he would win. 

He thought he could win. 

They only had to last two more months. His deadbeat mom had to last two months and they couldn’t even keep the legal proceedings--

He takes a breath. “Uncle Thomas is nice, at least.” 

“I don’t want uncle Thomas,” Patton snaps. 

“Well we don’t have a choice, Pat,” Declan bites out, stomach rolling at the words, eyes snapping open. 

Patton recoils, hurt flickering behind his eyes, but Declan knows it’s not enough to overpower the fire roaring in Patton’s lungs. “We did, we could have put more savings into mom’s defense, we could have found a place to live before it was our last resort but now we have to tell all our friends that we’re moving hundreds of miles away in two weeks!” 

“Mom doesn’t deserve to get out,” Declan spits. 

“I don’t CARE.” Patton’s fingers are clenched in fists. He stands. “I don’t care if mom deserves it or not. We deserve to stay.” 

“The world doesn’t work like that,” Declan says. 

Patton opens his mouth and snaps it shut, obviously restraining himself. A thousand emotions swim behind his eyes. Declan hates every single moment but he doesn’t say a word. 

He leaves. 

He leaves Declan sitting alone on the couch, watching Patton’s favorite movie. A door slams shut and Declan exhales heavily. They don’t get into fights, it’s just not -- Patton’s normally too upbeat to bother, Patton hates being angry, Declan normally doesn’t -- there’s nothing to get angry about, not in the grand scheme of things. They share easily, they have chaotic conversations, they… 

They’re fighting. 

Declan buries his head in his hands. He was too hopeful, too caught up on the possibility of the future to notice the sinkhole of reality. 

He really thought -- things would work out, Patton has his lucky charm of a personality and Declan works, he works hard, so things should -- Declan’s a senior in high school, halfway through the first semester, he should be worried about grades and school dances and friends and crushes and --

Logan. 

Declan curls, releasing something like a sob or maybe a dry heave. Whether or not he’s in love with Logan (most signs point to yes but there’s no way Declan’s addressing that) he still loves Logan, he loves being with him and talking to him and ordering his ice cream before Logan gets there to see the surprised and fond expression cross his face. 

Two weeks? 

To say goodbye to his best friend? 

Before moving, before picking up his entire life and his family (just -- Patton. Just Patton) and going somewhere Else?

Declan doesn’t feel like an adult. 

He doesn’t want to be an adult, either. 

Even if the world is asking him to be one. 

--

“You’re acting strange,” Logan observes. 

Declan shrugs. “I’m always strange.” He takes advantage of shoving fries in his face to avoid expounding. 

Logan sighs and puts down his burger. “Declan. Something’s going on.” 

Several somethings are going on, actually, but thanks. Declan shrugs again. “Haven’t been getting much sleep.” Which is a true statement. He’s written about ten different ways to tell Logan he’s leaving, nine of which are ripped up in the trash, one of which Declan just burned because he doesn’t want even scraps of that disaster to exist. 

Five days to go and Declan still hasn’t told him. Five days.  They don’t have many classes together, otherwise Logan would have pieced together the weird treatment from the teachers. Declan wonders if just disappearing into the void is an alright way to go, but a little Patton in his head chastises him for even considering it. 

Then again, at this rate…

“Hm,” Logan says. He has a thoughtful look on his face that’s absolutely devastating to Declan’s heart and general health and coherence of thought, let alone considering what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Is there a reason?” 

Declan considers, eyes narrowing as he stares at nothing. “I neglect to answer that question.” 

“So yes,” Logan says. The words fall from his lips with crushing sorrow. He takes a breath. “Why aren’t you telling me?” 

“Telling you what?” Declan says, internally wincing at the hurt flickering through Logan’s eyes.  

“Okay,” Logan says instead. He turns back to his food. 

They eat the rest of the meal in silence. 

-- 

Declan watches absentmindedly as Logan attempts to make a tower out of pens and pencils. With the addition of Roman’s copious amounts of colored pens, the tower is quite impressive. 

Two days. 

(Two Days).

Declan’s all packed. Sorta. Not really. He’s going to skip some classes in the future and pack all at once, throwing everything into the boxes (the empty boxes lining his room), not caring if anything breaks. 

He… 

He hasn’t told Logan yet. 

Or anyone, really, but Logan’s the one that -- the one that matters the most. 

Logan did, however, ask him if he was okay three times before leaving him be, because Logan knows that Declan becomes testy if asked the same question consistently. 

So basically, as far as Declan can figure, Declan’s a tool. Logan is trying, and Declan is giving him jack shit to work with. 

Patton has told all his friends, which means it’s only a matter of time before Logan finds out, right? Patton’s a sophomore, they’re seniors, and the school is large, but it’s also not as big as it seems. 

Roman, sitting next to him, hums under his breath as he types. He’s editing his college essay, which Declan would be doing if he had a college essay to edit and also cared enough. The atmosphere is strikingly calm, which leads to an anxious buzzing under Declan’s skin. 

Tell him. Just tell him. Just open your mouth and tell him. You’re in a library, he can’t get loud and yell. 

Declan wonders if yelling would be better, actually, than wide eyed stares and wounded expressions. 

He’s contemplating the merits of writing a letter (absolutely not, he doesn’t know why he’s even considering it) when he spots Patton out of the corner of his eye. 

Patton in and of himself does not scare Declan. 

The fact that he’s bee-lining for Declan and his friends does make him a bit nervous, though. 

“Cici,” Patton hisses. The cutesy play on Declan’s middle name sounds odd in such a harsh tone of voice. He glances at Logan before staring at Declan. 

Declan’s starkly aware of Roman and Logan’s attention when he says, “yeah?” 

“You told them?” Patton says, and Declan--

Well. 

A combination of fear and fury and regret zip through his veins at warp speed.

But Declan’s well trained in the art of deception. 

He schools his expression into one of cool indifference. “That I’m taking you for ice cream? Nah. I didn’t think they’d care. You wanna go right now?” 

Roman huffs a laugh, turning his attention back to his computer. Logan doesn’t look away, though, hand resting on a bright yellow flair pen. 

Patton’s brow furrows. “I mean the--”

“Man, if you were that impatient you could’ve texted me,” Declan interrupts with a long, drawn-out sigh. He stands, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I’ll see you guys later.” 

“Get me some ice cream next time,” Roman says, grinning. His gaze doesn’t leave his screen. “Bye, loser.” 

“Bye,” Logan echoes. 

Something registers in Declan’s brain-dead skull that Logan sounds lifeless because his best friend has been distant (Declan. Declan is Logan’s best friend). 

Declan pauses, sighs. Patton looks outraged and about two seconds from outing Declan. 

“I’m sorry,” Declan says. Logan looks up at him. “It’s not your fault. Just… I’m going through some things. You deserve to know. I shouldn’t shadow you without any info.” 

Patton looks even angrier, if possible, but then Logan’s talking and Patton hates interrupting people. 

“Okay,” Logan says, soft as ever. “I’ll wait for you.” 

And if that doesn’t make Declan feel like the nastiest motherfucker. 

“Let’s go,” Declan says, pulling Patton along before Patton lets loose. 

He opens his mouth, but Declan beats him to it, whispering, “Shh, we’re in a library.” 

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Patton hisses instead. 

“Language.” 

“You haven’t told them?” Patton exclaims. He yanks his wrist from Declan’s grip but continues following him, arms gesturing wildly. “You’re the worst.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Declan mutters. 

“You better get me ice cream now,” Patton says, crossing his arms. “After making me watch that.” 

“That’s fair,” Declan concedes, and then realizes he’s going to have to spent the next thirty minutes listening to Patton chastise him and -- 

Honestly, he deserves it, but he doesn’t want it, but before he can say anything, Patton says, “don’t even think about escaping this.” 

So he’s stuck listening to Patton chastise him for the next thirty minutes until their next class starts. 

But he gets a turtle sundae out of it, so it’s like, at least 20% a win. 

--

“CICI,” Patton screams from the living room. 

Declan shoots to his feet, tripping and slamming his knee into the doorframe, scrambling to reach Patton as swiftly as possible. He appears at the edge of the living room, hand pressed against the wall, chest heaving, eyes blown wide. “What? What is it?” 

He assesses Patton for damage, but Patton’s standing with his phone clutched between his fingers, shaking ever so slightly but appearing physically fine. He’s staring at Declan, lip trembling. 

“Patton?” Declan says. 

Patton opens his mouth, tears dripping down his cheeks. He sniffs, making an angry noise in the back of his throat as he wipes at his face. “I shouldn’t tell you! I should let you suffer because you’re mean.” 

“Patton,” Declan says, approaching his brother like one might a wild animal. 

Patton shakes his head and Declan stops. 

“I’m upset!” Patton says. Then he lets out a laugh, choked. “But I’m so relieved.”

Declan doesn’t say anything. 

Patton sniffles a few more times, then peeks at Declan through his fingers. Declan tries for a smile, sheepish. Patton smiles back, watery and soft. His shoulders shake as he laughs softly, his phone pressed against his cheek. “I was so scared.” 

“Me too,” Declan says. 

“I’m sorry,” Patton says, the anger draining from his face and leaving a wide-eyed pile of nerves. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not mean. You’re just scared.” 

“It’s okay,” Declan says. His arms hand limply by his sides. He wants to do something with them, to cross his arms or put them in his hoodie pockets or something, but he also wants to leave them available for when Patton wants a hug, so he stands awkwardly instead. “I forgive you.” 

“I’ve been calling Uncle Thomas,” Patton says. 

Declan’s heart does something funny in his chest. 

Patton pulls his hands away from his face, rubbing his cheeks clean, staring at his phone for a few moments before his hand drops, dangling at his side. “He’s -- he said he’s coming here. His job can be done online and the stuff he can’t do online he’ll fly back for which won’t be often, he said it’s important to him that we -- have a support system throughout highschool, and he wants us to finish here before doing anything else.” 

The information barely filters through Declan’s mind because when Patton exhales another sob Declan steps forward and envelops him in his arms on instinct. Patton’s legs go weak. Declan sinks to the ground, Patton pressing his face into Declan’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Patton mumbles. “I don’t know why I’m crying. This is good. This is good.” 

“Sometimes emotions have a funny way of showing,” Declan says. He runs his fingers through Patton’s hair, untangling the curls. “You’ve been stressed. It’s okay.” 

“Why aren’t you crying?” Patton says. He taps his palm against Declan’s chest, reminiscent of a smack without any of the power. “It’s not fair.”

Declan laughs, sort of. “I might later. I don’t know. Emotions are weird.” 

“You never told your friends you were moving,” Patton says. “Will they ever find out?” 

“Probably,” Declan says. He squeezes Patton. “I know you told your friends. It’s better your way. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.” 

“Mm.” 

Declan can feel the rise and fall of Patton’s chest. It slows as Patton calms down. “We don’t have to move,” Patton murmurs. 

“We don’t have to move,” Declan agrees, and Patton presses even closer. 

--

Declan doesn’t know how he finds his way to the beach but at one point he’s baking Patton cookies and the next he’s sitting on a slab of concrete overlooking the pitch dark waves. He knows Patton is sleeping, or is at least pretending to sleep. He vaguely remembers writing a note in case Patton looks for him. 

It’s been three days since Patton discovered Uncle Thomas’s moving plans. Discovered? Convinced? Declan isn’t sure. 

And he doesn’t really know how to react. He’s been moving on autopilot, making dinner, doing homework, putting in minimal effort into his friendships so they don’t abandon him on the side of the road -- 

No. Declan shakes his head. Putting minimal effort into his friendships because his friends don’t deserve to be cut off without a word. 

Nothing feels right. 

(Something is off). 

He hears footsteps and before he can whip around, before fear has the chance to truly take over his body, he hears, “this seat taken?” 

“No,” Declan says, and Logan sits next to him on the concrete. They’re quiet for a few moments, watching the reflection of the moon, tasting salt on their tongues. 

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” Logan says finally. 

Declan closes his eyes, breathes. His emotions are all tangled up in his chest and he doesn’t want to tap into it for fear that if he lets out a little he’ll let out everything. 

But Logan deserves to know. 

(He deserves someone better.)

“My mom lost,” Declan says, which sounds nicer than it did in his head. “She’s unfit to care for us, anyway, but now she’s officially calling prison her new home.” 

Logan’s quiet. Declan listens to his breathing. He spies Logan’s hand against the concrete and longs to close the distance and entangle their fingers, just for a modicum of physical comfort. The slightest hint of warmth permeates the air around Logan and Declan wants to lean closer, to press their arms together. 

“My Uncle, on my dad’s side, is taking care of us. He… wasn’t originally going to move here, but Patton talked to him and he decided moving here is the best course of action.” Declan shifts. He doesn’t know how to say it. He doesn’t know how to explain. 

Logan stops breathing. 

“I almost lost you,” he says, and it’s barely a whisper. 

Declan glances at him and can barely comprehend the amount of horror shining in Logan’s eyes. Logan’s staring at him, expression open and terrified. “I almost…” He exhales, shaking. Declan watches him so closely he can see the sticking of his chest as he breathes, the tremor of his shoulders. 

Declan’s heart stutters and he wants to tear his gaze away but he owes, he owes Logan this. Even though the only thing he wants to do is run away, to preserve himself. “I -- I never told you,” Declan says, more scared than he has been in a long time. He opens his mouth and stops, shrinking away. He looks over Logan’s shoulder, unable to maintain eye contact. “We were supposed to leave two days ago. I was going to tell you and then…” 

Then I found out that I’m in love with you, and it freaked me out so much I closed myself off. 

Logan’s truly shaking, and Declan doesn’t know what to do. You caused this. This is your fault. 

“Ugh! I’m sorry,” Declan exclaims. He can’t stand this, these tentative moments, fragile as glass. He wants to take a hammer to the whole affair. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not much but I was scared, and it’s not a valid excuse, but I was terrified, Logan, I couldn’t leave you! You mean too much to me!” 

“You mean a lot to me too,” Logan says, but Declan’s on a roll, now, there’s no stopping the hurricane in his heart. 

He moves his gaze to the waves, finding solace and energy in the constancy. “I was going to tell you when we were hanging out a few weeks ago in your room, and then I freaked out because -- and then I left, and haven’t been able to figure out how to word it since, and Patton’s better than I am, he told his friends almost immediately, imagine, having worse emotional competency than a fifteen year old--”

“Roman found out,” Logan says, grinding Declan’s tangent to a halt. “He mentioned something to me but I needed to hear it from you.” 

Declan stares at him. 

“I asked Patton if you were at home,” Logan explains. Declan can barely tell in the shadows, but Logan’s face seems to darken. “When he said no, I knew there was one other place you would go. Probably.” 

Declan worries his lip. He’s that predictable? 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Logan asks, quiet. 

“Because…” Liquid anxiety slogs through his veins. His voice drops, quiet, quieter than the sound of waves. “Because I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.” 

For a second all he can hear is the crash of the sea and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He doesn’t know why the moon isn’t falling from the sky, why the stars haven’t combusted, because his world feels like it’s falling apart at the seams. 

“I discovered that,” Declan continues, the words slipping between his lips before his mind has any say in the matter, “and didn’t know what to do, and then I needed to tell you I was leaving, and I love you, and I couldn’t. Because I’m a coward.” 

Another beat. Declan takes a long breath. “I still love you. And I’m no longer leaving.” 

“I suppose… now would be a bad time to bring up demiromanticism?” Logan tries. 

“It would be a terrible time, but thank you,” Declan says, and he can’t help the small puff of laughter that escapes. 

“I love you too,” Logan says, then, and Declan can’t breathe. 

He turns to Logan without thinking, searching his sapphire blue eyes for deception even though Logan has never, ever lied to him. He can’t hope, he can’t dare to hope, the world would never give him two miracles. “Don’t trick me.” 

“I’m in love with you,” Logan clarifies, nervous. His hands are wringing together and he’s biting his lip. 

Declan reaches out, fingers trembling, to brush against Logan’s cheek. “You…”

“I’ve been in love with you,” Logan says. He’s looking down, away from Declan’s gaze, but he leans into his touch. “For awhile. I never wanted to bring it up because… you were so adamant about being separate from romance…”

“I thought I was,” Declan says honestly. “Which is why this is a real fucking trip, let me tell you.” 

Logan laughs, and some of the tension in the air dissolves. “I can imagine.” 

“God, I love you,” Declan says. He brushes his thumb underneath Logan’s eye. 

“I love you too,” Logan says, eyes wide and sparkling, then he moves forward and cradles Declan’s head in his hands and Declan short circuits because he’s right there he’s RIGHT THERE and he’s touching him he loves him he loves him--

“You’re gorgeous,” Logan says, and Declan just stares at him dumbly because his mouth stops working. His heart is barely going, the only reason he’s not dead is because his body has some sort of instinctive survival instinct, or something. 

Emotion clog his throat and Declan doesn’t know how he’s not sobbing already so he’s unsurprised when the smallest tear slips out of his eye. 

“Oh,” Logan says, wiping the tear away. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s -- it’s not -- it’s not you,” Declan chokes out. “God. This is so embarrassing.” 

“I don’t care,” Logan says. He leans closer, pressing their foreheads together and staring into Declan’s eyes. “It’s okay to cry.” 

Declan smiles thinly, blinking away tears. “I don’t deserve you.” 

Logan stares at him, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You’re so beautiful,” Declan says. His trembling hands hold Logan’s jaw. “And you’re so smart and passionate, and you have the most wicked sense of humor, and you’re my best friend.” 

“No,” Logan shakes his head. “I mean, I am your best friend, but there’s no deserve in a relationship. We’re just people. People make mistakes. I make mistakes. Please don’t sell yourself short.” 

Declan wants to say that only proves how good Logan truly is, but he settles for a simple, “Okay.” 

Logan brushes hair out of Declan’s eyes, then sighs, dropping his head to Declan’s shoulder. Declan’s hands slide down to Logan’s upper back.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Declan says. 

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Logan replies, muffled. He pulls away for a split second, eyes blurry and a crease already showing from his glasses pressing into his skin. “But if you withhold life-altering information like that from me again there will be issues.” 

“I won’t,” Declan says. He swallows. He hates promises. He hates them, because he never feels like he can maintain them. “I’ll… I’ll try my hardest.” 

Logan searches his gaze, nods, and then presses fully into Declan. 

“Woah, okay.” Declan shifts as Logan clings to him like a koala bear. Logan’s basically in his lap and Declan, well. Declan has no complaints. 

“I can do this as much as I want because we’re in love with each other,” Logan mutters, and wow, if that doesn’t send a thousand vibrations across his skin. In love with each other. 

Declan grins. He likes the sound of that. 

“You know,” Logan says conversationally. His fingers trail up to press against Declan’s face, outlining his lips. “I love it when you smile.” 

Declan hums, his smile broadening. Me too, Logan. 

Me too.

[sanderssides-incorrectquotes]

I love the concept where Deceit and Patton are good friends since the very beginning and were there for each other each step of the way.

I also love the concept that Patton is the oldest side, existing since the very first second, then the concept of Deceit being the youngest side, appearing near 4 years later.

Now let's put the two together.

What I'm getting at is Patton and Deceit as childhood friends.

Childhood friends who grew up like siblings.

Give me Patton who took care of Deceit, who helped him with hurt of any degree.

Give me Deceit who brought Patton up from any bad mood, be it sadness, anger, grief, fear, or anything in between.

Patton who taught Deceit how to do so many things but still learned from him.

Deceit who was always happy to talk about anything and everything with Patton.

Patton who starts hanging out with the "light sides" more and more.

Deceit who starts drifting.

Patton who's sad to let go but understands and does so anyway, not knowing that he's misinterpreted.

Deceit who drifts away and hangs out with the others who feel left out.

Patton who misses his little brother.

Deceit who doesn't want to lose anyone else.

Patton who, when Virgil joins the light sides, believes he has another chance, and doesn't intend to waste it.

Deceit who thinks his brother replaced him with someone he thought was a friend.

Patton who just misses his sibling even more.

Deceit who tries to ruin Patton's ties with the "lights" so he can have his sibling back.

Patton who thinks his brother hates him.

Deceit who thinks his brother hates him.

Give me brotherly moceit.

[rose-coloured-prince]

Paint me in Trust

-

They both stood in the dark, winding blowing wildly. Their heartbeat could be heard for miles. They tried to control themself. They tried to breathe, tried to relax, tried to stop their racing mind. You’re fine. They’d tell themselves as if they’re not glowing.

“Dee, calm down! It’s gonna be okay!”

Ignore him. Just focus on controlling yourself right now. You can do this. Tears pricked their eyes. Their mind spun, racing with thoughts. His bright smile, the angry black in his eyes, the heat of his skin, the cold slam of the door. The wind blew faster. Their body shook. They kept their hands, shooting with light, crossed over their chest.

“Dee! I’m sorry!”

“SHUT UP, PATTON!” They opened their eyes but they could barely see their brother. They blinked away the tears. “This is your fault!” Their voice broke off at the end. 

Their brother took a step towards them. He’s never been afraid of Dee and what they could do. “I didn’t know! I just wanted to help!” His own tears fell from his cheeks, left at the mercy of the wind.

“Well, you didn’t! You didn’t help at all!” The street lights flickered. “I’m in this mess cause of you! God! I hate you!” They threw their arms down to their sides. 

And all Patton saw was yellow before he was knocked back several feet and coughing to breathe again. 

“Oh.” The wind slowed a bit. Patton blinked up at them, wide-eyed, hand to his chest. Dee stepped forward, reaching a dimly glowing yellow hand out, “Patton, I didn’t-”

He stepped back. 

Dee’s blood ran cold. 

“Wait, Pat, please, I-”

They stepped forward and He stepped back again. Shaking. Terrified. 

The wind stopped and it was dead silent in the street. And still, Dee couldn’t hear the apology that fell from Patton’s lips or the sound of Patton running away.

Because their head was filled with recurring voices. “You’re alone.”

“You’re a monster.”

[broadwaytheanimatedseries]

Ok for no good reason -

Royal Fantasy AU:

Roman and Remus are twins born to peasant couple, but their mother dies in childbirth, leaving their father Remy to take care of them on his own.

It soon becomes clear to him, however, that supporting himself and two children is near impossible to achieve.

So when the King and Queen decide to turn to adoption in their inability to produce an heir, Remy takes the only opportunity he has to save his kids' lives and requests an audience with their majestis to give them his kids.

Hard as it may be, it becomes even worse when the king and queen tell him they have no interest in twins, as that tends to create conflict that leads to eventual infighting and all out war within the kingdom as the siblings fight for power. They have interest only in one heir so if he still wishes to proceed with his plan, he has to choose which child he keeps and which he gives away.

They were just a little over a year old at the time, and Remy wanted to break down and cry, but knew that kind of behavior isn't very respectful in the presence of royalty.

He thought of how he could give both his kids a better life this way. One would be a Prince and would be provided with everything they could ever ask for, and the other, while living a much less luxurious life and under harsher conditions, would still be getting everything he needs, because with just one child Remy could work hard enough to provide for them both, he had done so before with his wife, he could do it again with his son.

So he agreed, giving up Roman to live as a Prince, and raising Remus on his own. Their majesties and Remy discuss a bit before agreeing not to tell the twins of each other, as to not cause unnecessary distress. Besides, the kingdom doesn't need to know Roman is adopted, that could cause outrage and rebellion.

Years go by, the twins grow up separate, unaware of their connection to each other. They look rather similar but seeing as Roman is a Prince, he doesn't know Remus at all, and Remus can't imagine himself being anything like his royal highness.

Throughout their childhood they've both made some lifelong friends.

For Prince Roman there is Dewy Picani, son of the Royal Advisor, and Patton Sanders, son to the Court Jester. Both seem to be following in their fathers' footsteps and are very loyal to the Prince. They are his best friends and Roman would protect them with his life.

Remus on the other hand, befriends Virgil Mallory and Logan Penn, as the two grew up as peasants just like himself, and together the three of them were able to encourage each other and help each other chase their dreams. And now, Logan is applying for the position of palace Gardner, while Virgil has been training for the past 4 years and is to be knighted very soon. Remus has also made quite a name for himself, for better or worse is really up to interpretation, but the important part to him is that his friends are happy and accomplishing their goals in life. He would kill for those wonderful idiots.

The story begins 6 months before Roman and Remus's 21st birthday, and therefore 6 months before his coronation as king. Virgil is knighted and meets Prince Roman as he will be at his service as soon as he takes the throne, and Logan gets to know the castle staff including the soon to be retiring court jester, his son the royal chef, the royal advisor, and his son who is also applying for the castle gardner position.

This angers Logan because as someone who's lived in the castle his whole life and who's father isn't even retiring, Dewy doesn't even need the job like Logan does.

Still, Logan makes sure to tell Remus of the jester position opening up, and Remus figures he should go for it. His father encourages him to go for it, dreading and hoping at once that Remus and Roman find out the truth, but not having the courage to tell them himself.

And so in the next 6 months, old friendships will be tested, new relationships will bloom, and long forgotten secrets will be revealed, all with the pressure of two birthdays and one coronation on the way.

That's all for now, let me know what you think and if you want to see more.

And As Always,

Stay Tuned!

[notveryglittery]

star light, star bright

it’s @blinksinbewilderment‘s birthday!!! you know what she likes a lot? romantic analogical and brotherly prinxiety :) it’s a quick little bulletfic with lots of extra bonus background ships. i really treasure our friendship, blink, i hope you have a day that shines as brightly as you do, and that you feel as much happiness as i do whenever i get to talk to you <3!! 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

brotherly prinxiety 

big bro ro 

virgil goes to roman for advice on how to ask out his long-time crush logan

roman initially teases him relentlessly because anyone with eyes can see logan has liked virgil back for at least three quarters of that long-time 

when roman realizes the two are in fact blind pining oblivious dummies, he jumps at the chance to help this ship sail as smoothly as it can from where it’s been docked for far too long 

roman is obviously a Professional Matchmaker - look, his name is in the word “romance”

(never mind the fact that patton is the one who swept roman off his feet with a romantic declaration at the top of a ferris wheel underneath a bright full moon)

(they’ve definitely let roman live this down. absolutely no one brings it up at every given opportunity)

so roman teaches virgil all of the important things to woo one’s true love (“he isn’t my true love,” virgil gripes, hoping roman doesn’t notice how hard he blushes. roman notices.) this includes: practicing of poetic confessions, the perfect combination of flowers in bouquets, romcom movie marathons. 

to virgil’s mortification, roman invites patton to one of their lessons. to virgil’s further humiliation, patton’s brother declan tags along, and it turns out virgil’s to practice his confession on declan because he’s got that same dry wit and humor as logan, and surely he can offer the best reactions. 

(declan thinks this is very stupid but he and virgil are also kind of frenemies and so declan will take any blackmail he can get his hands on) 

it goes about as well as you think it would 

meanwhile, one logan sanders is trying to smother himself with a pillow

“babe, you of all people should know how physically impossible it is to do that” 

logan throws the pillow at his queer platonic partner 

by some miracle, remy dodges it and manages not to spill a single drop of his starbucks 

so as we all know, logan has been pining for virgil for quite a few years now, and as we also all know, he is a blind oblivious dummie 

remy is surprised his ears haven’t fallen off yet with how much logan gushes about virgil

it would be cute if it hadn’t gotten really old like a year and a half ago

(okay, it’s still pretty cute but remy thinks a lot of things about logan are cute) (like, hello, the utter look of concentration on his face when he’s deciding which tie matches his outfit best?)

remy wants logan as happy as he can be, of course, but virgil is… well, remy and virgil kind of had some issues sophomore year that they never really resolved.

it doesn’t really interfere with their relationship now given the dynamic of their friend group. they kinda tolerate each other. but remy’s gotta give virgil the Talk - you know the one, “you so much as even think about hurting logan and they’ll never find your body” 

remy and roman definitely haven’t been texting each other updates over the months, why would you even insinuate something so devious 

after many shenanigans and montages of:

roman helping bolster virgil’s confidence

big bro ro helps virgil to perfect all the makeup tricks he’s learned on his own over the years. virgil understands now just how good winged eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man can make you feel. 

he really does get better with pick up lines and flirting; he stumbles sometimes but it feels effortless and that’s the important part.

declan jokingly threatening to steal logan away if virgil didn’t get on with it

while virgil knows declan’s aroace ass would never, virgil does not know that logan likes him back, and so this still seems like an entirely plausible thing to worry and stress about 

sometimes, declan drapes himself over logan and heckles him into a debate; partially to see virgil get all flustered over logan all worked up, partially to encourage virgil to hurry up already, wouldn’t he like to be in logan’s space like this?

remy dropping hints around virgil about logan’s newest interests

virgil and logan might be close friends who have been mutually pining over each other for years, but there’s still things they don’t tell each other, or don’t get the chance to share. if remy happens to let slip that logan wants desperately to visit the new exhibit at the observatory, well, that’s neither here nor there.

and he does give virgil the Talk, a few nights before the plan is set into motion. in the same go, they mostly remedy their past issues. by the end of it, virgil wonders how it’s possible for someone to be so threatening while using pet names like “babe,” “sweetie,” and “honey” every other sentence. 

eventually, virgil is deemed Ready. it is Time. 

halloween is virgil’s favorite holiday and because logan loves virgil, he also loves halloween. sure, all the sweets are a health hazard, and trick-or-treating really isn’t the safest tradition, and ghosts do not exist - but virgil glows during this season. he adds autumnal colors to his wardrobe and it really is not fair how good he looks in oranges, and browns, and deep greens. 

(in case we aren’t all on the same page yet, logan is Very Very Gay.)

everyone is at remy’s house. it’s definitely one of the biggest homes in their small town and so this is where a lot of the holiday parties tend to take place. the dormir family is also generally just really well liked. which means more people than invited show up but if anyone knows how to throw and manage a party, it’s remy. 

anyway the plan is that virgil and logan finally get together at this party so that they can finally go trick or treating with the gang in matching costumes 

it is so lame and virgil would rather forsake trick or treating completely but also he may or may not have been planning couple’s costumes for like four years now

everything is going really well! 

roman and patton are social butterflies, flitting from the dance floor to the kitchen to the backyard. they’re dressed up as she-ra and perfuma, respectively. roman’s even threaded led lights into the underskirt and cape so that he’s actually glowing. patton’s flowers aren’t just a crown atop his head, they twist and weave along his arms, around his torso, and down his legs.

remy wears the same thing every year to the party: pajamas and a ridiculous pair of slippers. he saves the extravagant costumes for halloween night. he truly is a spectacular host, making sure drinks and snacks are restocked, that nothing’s being broken, and checking in on those who don’t handle the crowds too well. 

logan’s dressed in a very impressive le petit prince costume - it’s so good, it might as well be a full on cosplay. (virgil definitely isn’t swooning, what?) logan sticks close to the edges of rooms, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

(in, for example, virgil’s arms, on the dance floor, swaying to a slow song.)

virgil is dressed as jack skellington and declan in a creepily accurate oogie boogie - everywhere he goes, plastic insects fall out of his costume. patton’s shrieks of terror at seeing the fake spiders keeps startling the party guests. 

eventually - totally not by plan or anything - logan and virgil end up in the backyard together, on the old wooden swing bench on the porch. it’s nearing midnight and the crickets are chirping and there’s an owl hooting nearby somewhere. the moon is obscured on this cloudy night. 

virgil thinks it’s perfectly spooky and atmospheric 

logan doesn’t need to see the stars in the sky when they’re sparkling so brightly in virgil’s eyes

logan’s feet barely reach the floor and so virgil uses his heel to push them back and forth. thankfully, both of their costumes keep them warm enough in the chilly fall weather. (though they, of course, could always do to be a little bit warmer.) 

virgil’s breathing is measured and it’s super obvious he’s counting them in his head. logan scoots closer and lays a hand over virgil’s. his breath hitches.

“there is something i would like to tell you,” logan begins. 

the record scratch in virgil’s head sounds loud enough that everyone at the party should be able to hear it

“for the… last couple of years, i have harb-” 

“hold on,” virgil interrupts, loud and sudden. “hold - wait a seco - there’s no way you’re -” 

logan normally finds all manners of virgil’s speech patterns endearing but right about now, logan has a finite amount of courage and it is quickly running out

“- going to tell me right now-”

“of course i love you.” 

virgil’s jaw promptly snaps shut 

(he’s been working so hard on this and all this time??????) 

virgil isn’t really aware of the high-pitched noise he’s making until logan reaches out and firmly presses a hand over his mouth. 

“it is my fault that you have not known it all the while,”

(and the way logan says it, like a treasured line from a fairytale. virgil’s sure he’d recognize it if he could think at all.)

“i understand if you do not reciprocate these feelings and i apologize if i have made you uncomfortable with my confession,” logan is saying now while virgil’s still working on rebooting. logan lowers his hand. “i hope that this will not negatively impact our friendship. i care deeply for you and-” 

virgil’s systems spark back to life and he interrupts again, this time with a short bark of laughter. 

“l, oh my god, no offense, but i’ve been building up to this night for months and you just-” he has to pause to stifle his laughter. he’s equal parts giddy because logan likes him back and frustrated because logan’s liked him back for years and neither of them had done anything about it until now.

logan looks confused. 

virgil wants nothing more than to kiss him. 

“i’m in love with you” bulldozes over his brain-to-mouth filter instead

logan looks confused, elated, overwhelmed, stunning, he blushes so prettily, virgil thinks, and all of his practice must pay off, because the next move he makes is easy. 

at some point, they’d turned towards each other. virgil’s hand cups logan’s face. leaning closer, virgil’s gaze lowers to logan’s lips, and then back up. who knew eye contact alone could be this electrifying?

“can i kiss you?” virgil murmurs. 

“i can’t think of anything i’d like more,” logan responds. 

(back in the house, declan grumpily shoves a twenty dollar bill into roman’s hands.)

a week and a half later will find virgil and logan in matching costumes. for their shared interest in astronomy, they’ve lowkey always been called the “starlight gays” amongst their friends, and their costumes certainly help solidify it. 

logan is wearing dark jeans and a navy button down. with roman’s help, he’s lit up like the night sky; led lights form constellations that, if asked, logan will explain in a heart beat. from his shoulders trails a glittering black cape that catches the light just right (it’s impractical for trick or treating but the way virgil keeps wrapping himself up in it, snuggling close to logan’s side… well)

virgil’s the opposite in whites and greys, though he’s glowing as well, a near match to the full moon in the sky. he seems exceptionally pleased with the makeup he’s done for the costume, silver and blue and sparkling. 

(they look like they should be at a con, honestly, instead of out for one night collecting candy, but it’s cute, and that’s all that matters) 

and of course, they live happily ever after

(with only the slightest of teasing for the rest of their lives about their slow burn romance) 

[midnightmarev]

Just To Pet My Dog?!

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Pre-Moxiety

Word count: 2285

AO3 link

Notes: Based off of an incorrect quote by @ssslimyboy

Summary: Whatever Virgil had imagined would happen today, it most certainly wasn’t this! This man nearly died, just to pet his dog! Like, what? Okay, let’s rewind the day a bit to see what actually happened, shall we?

Just To Pet My Dog?!

“Alright, Ann. It’s 4:30. We gotta head out now if we don’t wanna be late for the vet’s.” A whine was heard. Virgil chuckled. Anastacia really didn’t want to go the vet. Virgil couldn’t really blame her. He himself never liked going to the doctor’s office either.

“Wruff!”

“I know, Ann. But it’s just a check-up,” he said, finding the leash as well as some of Anastacia’s favourite treats. She starts wagging her tail when she catches their smell. She was a beautiful albino German Shepherd, and he’d had her since she was a pup.

After another minute of dosing her with love, they were out of the door. It took about 15 minutes to get to the clinic, and their appointment was at 5 pm, so they would have some time to spare once they got there.

They were walking peacefully down the street when Virgil was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts at the sounds of tires screeching. Virgil looked up and saw a bespectacled man with curly honey-brown coloured hair. And he was crossing the road at what one would call superspeed without a care for his life. All Virgil could do was stand there and stare. What the actual hell was going through that man’s head?! The road was heavily trafficked this time of the day with people just wanting to get home from work.

Virgil visibly winched when a bus nearly hit him. Luckily the bus driver stopped just in time to not hit him. What was this guy thinking?!

Oh no! A car! Virgil stands there in silent terror and anxiety, praying to any and all deity that the man stops before he’s run over. He doesn’t, but the car does, and he slides across the hood. And a second. And third. And suddenly he’s standing on the pavement in front of Virgil, out of breath. But he’s smiling like a goofball? He seems super excited. Why?

“Oh my gosh!! Can I please pet your dog??” he asked, looking like he had to physically restrain himself from attacking Anastacia with love and pets and cuddles.

The question catches Virgil entirely off guard. What?

Anastacia also seems baffled. Humans were weird, but she never thought they would want to risk dying just to pet her.

“Um… sure?” Virgil hesitantly answered. And the man began to pet Anastacia, who gladly, but very confused, accepted the soft strokes to her fur.

“Did you just- did you nearly get hit by a bus and slide across the hood of three cars just to pet my dog?” Virgil asked incredulously after he broke out of his stupor.

The man giggled while petting Anastacia and getting concerned face licks from her. “Obviously.”

Now, Virgil wasn’t really the type to fall for people just like that, but the only thought that crossed his mind after that response was ‘is this love?’ and Virgil was in a daze. Here was someone who risked his life to say hi to Anastacia, because he thought she was the most important being in the world. Just like Virgil did.

All Virgil did for the next two minutes was stare at the man. The man who nearly got himself killed to pet Anastacia. The man who almost died and was now cooing at Anastacia like nothing had happened. The man who now casually told Virgil his name. “I’m Patton, by the way.”

And instead of answering Patton politely with his own name all Virgil could say was “You could’ve died! Are you out of your mind?!” And Virgil, anxious, awkward Virgil, internally facepalmed at his own words.

“Hmm?” Patton looked up at Virgil, eyes widening. “Oh my, I’m terribly sorry for distressing you! I can be a bit impulsive at times,” Patton sheepishly admitted. “And I’ve never seen a white German Sheperd before, and I kinda let my impulsiveness take over.” He looked down to Anastacia again, emphasising it by scratching her behind the left ear. He looked very guilty. That would not do.

“Uhm, I get that. Not many have. Well, she’s not just white, she’s albino. And albino German Shepherds are rare, to say the least.” Virgil scratched his neck, not knowing what to say next. “Where were you headed?” he then asked, feeling extremely awkward.

“Nowhere in particular, really. Just needed to clear my head. Had a small argument with my brother.” Patton looked, and sounded, sad at that. Why did Virgil always screw things up? Patton had been in a good mood for getting to meet Ann, and now Virgil made him think about something bad that happened to him. Stupid Virgil.

“I- I’m sorry to hear that. But that happens sometimes, right? Between siblings?” Virgil asked, trying to help. He didn’t have any siblings, so he didn’t really know the feeling. And he never spoke to his parents. They had basically disowned him at this point. But that wasn’t the same as having an argument with someone you loved and who loved you back.

Patton nodded. “I suppose. It’s just not often it happens, but it’s too often for my taste. I hate fighting with him,” Patton said, just as sadly. “But enough about me!” His cheery smile was back. “Where are you two cuties headed? Maybe I can join you?”

“Uhm, we’re just going to the vet for a check-up. But uh, sure?” Virgil stammered out, still trying to process the innocent nickname.

“A check-up? Has she been sick?” Patton asked worriedly. They started walking together.

“No no, she hasn’t. It’s just standard procedure with albino dogs. They just need to make sure her immune system is alright, and no genetic errors have popped up, or something like that. Anastacia’s as healthy as can be.”

Anastacia whined at the mention of them going to the vet. Strangers groping on her body was not her pack of treats.

Patton chuckled. “Sounds like someone doesn’t want to go, though. And that’s such a beautiful name! Anastacia.”

“Yeah, she’s been complaining a lot today because of it,” he smiled down at her. She responded by looking up at him, innocently. Their interaction made Patton giggle, and oh if that wasn’t the most beautiful sound Virgil had ever heard.

“Well, I don’t blame her. Going to the vet isn’t the most fun thing to do with your afternoon. You know? If it’s the vet just down here, you might be lucky, Anastacia. My old friend, Logan, works there, and there is no one as gentle as him!” Patton happily exclaimed, bending down to her to scratch behind her ear.

“Really? Do you think you would be able to make him do the check-up? She’s not very comfortable with most people, and last time she bit the vet we ended up with…” Virgil trailed off, remembering the day. He was very picky with who got to examine Ann, and they went through several vets before ending with the one she bit.

“Really? Patton asked, looking down at Ann, who purposely avoided looking at him. “So she chooses who get to examine her, or what?” Patton enquired.

“… and I’m also really “picky” with who is allowed to examine her,” Virgil sheepishly admitted.

“As you should be. She deserves only the best and most caring hands to do the examination!”

Virgil was glad he wasn’t the only one who thought her a treasure to the world. She was his emotional support animal and had helped him get through some of his roughest times and a lot of panic attacks. He would only accept the best for her.

Before they knew it, they were at the clinic. Virgil sat with Ann next to him while Patton was talking to the receptionist about getting Logan to do the examination. They had arrived ten minutes before the check-up, so they had some time to themselves while waiting.

Patton and Virgil held a light conversation, talking about anything and everything. They really hit it off.

“Anastacia?” someone asked. Virgil looked up to see a man dressed in the usual vet attire. He had a tie around his neck, making him look even more professional than any of the other vets. He had glasses on, similar to Patton’s, and black hair slicked back.

“That’s us,” Virgil answered. He encouraged Ann to stand up and say hello. He really hoped this Logan was to her liking. It seemed so.

“Salutations. Please, follow me,” the vet, Logan, said, motioning them towards a room down the hall. “In here, if you will.”

Virgil nodded. He went inside the examination room with Ann following on his heel.

The human vet the nice, but crazy, human had introduced her to was not so bad. She still didn’t like it here though, and would much rather go home.

“Patton told me she bit the last veterinarian to examine her?” Logan inquired.

Virgil looked a bit sheepish. “Yeah, she’s not all that crazy about going to the vet, even if it’s only a check-up.”

“I see,” Logan mumbled. He then went to a basket to search for something. When he emerged, he had a plushie in hand. “Here, this should help her with what I assume is her anxiety.” He handed the plushie to Ann. “It has helped my own canine companion a great deal.”

Virgil watched as Anastacia cautiously sniffed the plushie before slowly taking it, accepting coordinated and gentle strokes to her fur by skilled hands. No other vet had ever been like this with her. He faintly smiled.

“Now, if you will guide her to lie here?”

The examination went well. She was calm all throughout and not once did she growl at Logan. When the examination was over, Logan declared that she was much healthier than most dogs her age.

During the examination, Virgil learned that Logan had a husky named Laylin, but whose pet name was Star. He learned that Patton and his brother, Dee, were really close and it hurt Patton a lot on the rare occasions they fought. He also learned that Patton was very much gay and very much single. And he was waiting for Virgil and Anastacia.

“Salutations, Patton,” Logan greeted when he recognised Patton, sitting and waiting for Virgil.

“Heya, Lo! How did it go?” he asked. He looked genuinely worried. It was sweet. He already had formed some sort of connection to both man and dog.

“Anastacia is as healthy as a dog her age should be. It’s not many dogs that have the optimal health, but it seems like you are excellent at keeping her at peak health,” Logan said, the last part directed towards Virgil.

“Ooh, that’s good to hear! OH! Maybe we could set up a playdate so that she and Star can meet each other! And Nini could join too! She’s Dee’s snake! She’s sooo cute!! They would love each other!” Patton exclaimed, making some of the other patients look at him with various expressions; pet and owner alike.

Virgil and Logan chuckled at Patton’s antics. “You know, it would be good for Anastacia to interacts with other dogs, and to have a healthy experience with animals that aren’t dogs,” Logan pondered to Virgil. He already knew Patton would win. Nobody could resist his puppy dog eyes, and once he’d made up his mind, there was nothing that could deter him.

“Why not. My friend, Roman, is always on my ass about me having to leave the house more,” Virgil shrugged. They seemed like kind people, and his anxiety wasn’t telling him not to.

“Language!” Patton scolded him. Virgil was so surprised he first stood with his mouth open like a goldfish before bursting out laughing. “What? There are innocent ears here!”

When Virgil’s laugh died down to a giggle and had gotten a hold of his breath again, he looked incredulously at Patton. “You just do that? Scold people for their language? At the vet’s?” Virgil giggled.

Logan leaned over. “You’ll get used to that. And no, not just here. Anywhere,” he stage-whispered.

They laughed with each other before exchanging numbers. Logan had to get back to work, and Virgil urged Patton to go back and clear things up with his brother. Virgil could see the strain in Patton’s smile and the pain in his eyes.

Patton insisted on following him and Anastacia home, though. “Just to make sure no one else tries to cross the busy road to pet her,” he joked, bumping his shoulder into Virgil’s.

They said their farewells at the door, Patton declining the invitation to come inside for a glass of water. He needed to get back to Dee and Nini. Patton gave Virgil a small hug instead, saying thank you for being allowed to befriend Anastacia as well as being a well-needed distraction from his thoughts.

After Patton had left, Virgil gave Anastacia some of the promised treats for being so docile with Logan, before letting her trot into the living room and jump onto the couch. She was proud of herself. She had singlepawedly made sure her human got new friends. And a love interest. Dogs above knew he needed love from another human. And if she got new animal friends out of it, who was she to complain?

Virgil sat next to her, scratched her behind the ear, and grabbed his phone from his pocket. He was so going to text Roman about his crazy day. He wrote a short message saying he so needed to talk face-to-face because his day had been beyond absurd. Before he pressed send, he looked at Anastacia, smiled, and thought about Patton’s smile and adorable giggle. Only one thought occupied his mind. Ann looked at him and voiced it:

“Yeah, this is love.”

[mc-i-r]

hey I'm back in my bullshit again

send me a prompt and a ship and I'll write it :D

(no moxiety or intruality tho bc it makes me uncomfy)

[rosesisupposes]

Other Half

hi i was haunted with the idea of subverting a soulmate trope after a chat with @potestessemagishomosexualitatis and it evolved in like a day on discord so here y’all go!

relationships: brotherly prinxiety, QPR moceit, romantic royality, implied/eventual anxceit

content tags: musician roman, techie/sound-guy Virgil, deaf Patton, QPRs, amatonormativity, soulmates & lack thereof, happy ending

word count: 2,847

read on ao3

Roman has half a soulmark, waiting to make skin contact with his Soulmate to finally be completed.

His brother, not so much.

Context: In this world, soulmates have half a symbol somewhere on their skin, each with one half. When soulmates have skin contact for the first time, both marks complete. The amatonormativity (prioritizing romantic love) is very strong, despite the fact that soulmates have frequently been platonic, not just romantic. It’s still a rather progressive idea, similar to gay marriage, and the traditions and stories are all centered around that romantic ideal. In that vein, some people have thirds or fourth of a mark would need to contact all their soulmates to have a complete mark. Marks are very much for One Person (or, occasionally, Two or Three Specific People), and so not everyone meets their mate. Not everyone has the means. They could be anywhere in the world! But unfortunately, there's still an idea that even if you're with a partner, you'd leave them if you met your soulmate, and that other relationship are just settling.

⁂

Enter two brothers.

Roman goes starry-eyed over stories of meet-cutes and surprise soulmates. He wants to know if he'll feel it, as his mark completes. Someday, when he meets his Someone™️!!!

And then his brother, Virgil.

Virgil... doesn't have a mark. He's not sure he's heard of that before. He has some freckles, but those fade with the seasons. Soulmarks don't fade.

Roman has half a circle, and it either has petals or rays around it. A flower or a sun, he thinks. It's right on his bicep, so he frequently goes sleeveless, and greets new people by taking both their hands in his every time. Just in case.

Lots of people do that- but it makes Virgil uncomfortable. Even if he knows he'll never be the one to trigger someone's mark, he hates knowing that's what everyone expects. He'd rather keep his hands to himself. He wears his big baggy hoodie to avoid the expectant stares of people looking for his mark, and avoids skin contact as much as he can.

They grow up in a family without a ton of resources, so neither can afford to take the 'Soul Year' some teens do where they travel before going into higher education. But Roman's determined that his career will help him meet hundreds, no, thousands of people, and he will find his soulmate!

Virgil really doesn't love the whole soulmate thing, the obsession with it, the constant reminder that he doesn’t have one and will never have one. But he does love his brother.

He tries, sometimes, to temper Roman's excitement just to make sure it doesn't hurt too much if he never finds The One. But mostly he just listens as Roman waxes poetic about his hypothetical love.

Roman, for several years, went silent, assuming Virgil wouldn't want to hear it. But Virgil has just kinda accepted it, you know? He's basically like everyone who never ends up meeting their mate, except he gets to skip the years of doubt and worry that their mate might suddenly appear at any time. He knows from the get-go. He’ll never have to look back with regret or sorrow, never have to worry about disrupted relationships, never need to mourn that his hypothetical mate might have died before he could meet them. It’s fine, really.

Roman becomes a singer and songwriter, and acts on the side. Virgil does his cover art and helps him with the sound-mixing. They're a great team - and they always have been.

Virgil makes friends with the roadies and techies, happy to leave Roman in the spotlight. He dates, sometimes. It's easier when they go on tour- a short international stay means no promises, no uncomfortable conversations about the future, no intrusive knowledge of a partner's Someone™️ out there.

After years of touring, Roman is internationally known and recognized. But he's also starting to lose hope.

He's lost count of all the meet-and-greets he's been to, how many hands he's grabbed from the stage into the crowd. He makes sure to at least high-five every roadie and tech, every opening act or announcer. His songs range from fantastical to domestic, from sweet and bubbly to sorrowful and yearning, and he loves creating, he does. But he knows there's someone out there for him, and he wants to meet them so, so badly.

They're in Paris for a show, and Virgil and Roman are strolling along the Seine. It's Spring, Roman's favorite time of year, and all the trees are in bloom. It looks like something out of a Hallmark movie.

Roman sighs heavily.

Virgil bumps him with an elbow. "Hey, no moping. That's my aesthetic, no stealing."

"Vee, what if I don't ever meet them?"

"Ro-"

"I know I should keep hoping, but- I've touched so many people and still haven't found them, what if I never will?"

"Then you'll be like most of us, Ro. Find love & companionship the new way: with hard work and dating apps."

Roman nods, but sighs again. "I just... really wanna, Vee." His voice is small, like a pouting kid. 

"I know. I hope you do."

They keep walking, but Roman's practically shuffling. On the one hand, he is a fucking drama queen.

On the other hand, Virgil wants him to feel better. 

Rolling his eyes, Virgil orders ice cream from a vendor in clumsy but serviceable French and presents Roman with his sprinkle-covered cone. Just like he knew it would, it perks him up immediately.

"Chocolate! My favorite!!"

"How are you possibly older than me. You are five."

"I just have childlike wonder, not a well of ennui!"

"Fuckin' dork."

"Edgy poser."

"Prima donna."

"Nerd."

Distracted, Roman walks straight into a man looking off at the river. He stumbles and trips and they both fall.

"Oh goodness gracious, forgive me, excusez moi, je suis desole! Pardonnez-moi!" he rattles off.

The man smiles, and his hands dance. Virgil realizes he's signing. Sorry, I didn't see you there!

 Luckily, Virgil understands it - he’s taken classes in ASL, just for kicks.

Roman knows very little sign, but he learned a couple of phrases. Sorry!

Virgil adds, It was our fault, we weren't watching.

Virgil recognizes the starry-eyed look on his brother's face. It's yet another Infatuation At First Sight, where he throws his whole heart into hoping. 

"Vee, Vee, ask him his name please?" he says, smiling for all he's worth at the curly-haired man in front of him.

Before Virgil gets a chance, he sees the man's eyes flick up and past them, and he breaks into a sunny smile. (Virgil might actually understand his brother's infatuation, for once)

Another person comes over, holding two ice creams. Virgil does a slight double-take. Like him, this newcomer chooses not to show very much skin. But they've covered even their hands. Ice cream somehow looks funny in a gloved hand.

Handing one to the first man, they start signing with one hand, far faster than he can follow. He catches a couple of signs he recognizes - gestures to himself & Roman, are you okay, something that either is we're late or shoo.

The first man is still smiling, though, and whatever he says must be okay, because the newcomer turns to them. They speak with a lilting accent, something not quite Parisian. "Please forgive my barging in- I can't exactly call for Patton from across the walkway.  My name is Dante. And you are?"

"I'm Roman, and this is Virgil, and it is wonderful to meet you!"

Virgil signs along with his brother's words, and sees Patton's eyes crinkle happily as he greets them both.

Roman has clearly also noticed Dante's gloves, but turns to Patton. With a slight bit of hesitation, he speaks and signs at once, "May I shake your hand?"

Virgil is sure he's not imagining the minute pursing of Dante's lips, but Patton's nodding and reaching out and so is Roman.

Roman is clearly holding his breath, and Virgil is too, both braced for opposite outcomes. But Patton's small, tan hand is wrapped in Roman's larger one and both sets of eyes are huge. 

Virgil's eyes flick to Roman's bicep, exposed as always, the white mark a stark contrast to his dark skin, looking like a sun or maybe a flower and-

"Holy shit-" Virgil breathes.

Roman, however, is not looking at his arm. He's staring directly into Patton's dark eyes with a smile that looks confused and elated all at once, and their hands haven't parted. 

Patton's eyes are just a huge, even huger thanks to his glasses.

"It's you," Roman says, wonder in his voice. Patton seems to read his lips, because he smiles somehow even bigger than before and signs It's you! back.

And sure enough, the mark on Roman's arm is a full circle, a full sun or flower, and Virgil's head is reeling.

Virgil's not sure what to say- the two soulmates seem content to keep staring and smiling and holding hands. But Virgil's just... nervous. Soulmate or not, this ‘Patton’ is a stranger, but Roman looks like he might never move from his side. Fuck, they can't even communicate both ways, Roman knows practically no sign and he just used up the only full sentence he’s ever learned.

He looks nervously at Patton's companion. Dante is staring too, seemingly unaware of the ice cream dripping down their glove.

Dante starts to sign something, realizes Patton can't see them, reaches out to tap Patton on the shoulder, then stops before they can touch, hand falling to their side. They look down and finally notice their ice cream, and blanch, pulling out napkins to clean their glove before it stains.

Virgil digs into his knapsack and pulls out a wet wipe and offers it. "This might help more."

Dante looks up, staring at Virgil without a shred of comprehension until Virgil waves the wipe once more. They take it with a quiet, "Merci."

They turn away, wiping off their glove and tossing the rest of their ice cream into the trash. They wiggle their fingers, clearly uncomfortable with the damp fabric. 

Virgil shifts awkwardly. He should say something, but what do you even say in this situation? He has no idea what their relation is to Pat- oh fuck, what if they were dating and Roman's just swooped in and ruined it?

In his tried-and-true method of awkward small talk with new roadies in new cities, he says, in French, "So, Paris, yeah? Know any good cafes near here?"

Dante shakes themself a bit and turns to look at Virgil. "Ah, yes. There's a patisserie just on the next block. Shall we relocate them and stop blocking the tourists?"

Virgil nods and looks over at his brother. He weighs his options of interruption, and decides on flicking Roman in the temple.

"Ow! Fuck! Vee!?!"

"You're blocking traffic, dumbass."

"I'm having a moment."

"Well come have a mocha. You can keep having your moment and I can have coffee. C'mon." 

He sees Dante signing to Patton too, explaining the plan but much more politely. Roman and Patton continue holding hands, but follow them down the block.

They get Roman and Patton sitting at a table in a picturesque cafe, and walk to the bar to order. Virgil orders his go-to of a double shot and gets Roman his mocha. Dante orders themself a latte and a vanilla cappuccino for Patton. Sitting at the bar waiting, Virgil looks over.

"So. That lunkhead over there is my brother."

Dante nods. "And Patton is my. Well. You might not know what it means, so don't immediately freak out, okay? But it's called a queerplatonic partner."

Virgil can feel the nervousness melt away. "Oh, phew. Yeah, I know what it means. So Roman's not homewrecking by being a discovered soulmate?"

"Well. I certainly hope not. But I know not everyone really, uh. Gets it. Especially with the soulmate sh- stuff. Things."

Virgil grins. "You were about to say soulmate shit, weren't you."

"...No."

"You're a terrible liar."

Dante winks. "I might surprise you."

Virgil raises an eyebrow. "Oh that's how we're gonna play it?"

"I don't play, monsieur. I just win."

"Okay then, here's a test. Why the gloves?"

Dante automatically goes to adjust them, and looks up at Virgil. Their eyes drift down to his hoodie and back up. "I think you know exactly why."

"You don't have-?"

"Nope. I don't have one either."

"I thought I was-"

"The only one?"

"Apparently not."

Virgil looks over at Patton, sitting with Roman. They don't seem to be even attempting to talk still, just staring and holding hands.

"With the QPP- are you aromantic? Do you think that's why?" He gestures vaguely at their whole body, but he’s never been quite as elegant in his gestures as Roman is.

Dante opens their mouth to speak, but stops, and sighs. "That's what I've been saying. It was easier, to say maybe this was for a purpose. And I do love Patton with all my platonic heart and I will kill your brother if he hurts him."

"The feeling’s mutual."

"But, no. I'm not fully aro. I still have romantic attraction and all that, I've just been guaranteed that even if I want it, I'll always be someone's secondary love so. Might as well lean in, right? Make the system work somewhat in my favor?"

Virgil opens his mouth to respond, to object, when the barista calls out their drinks, and then they're carefully carrying full mugs across the cafe and finding a table next to the couple.

Patton appears to be teaching Roman how to sign his name. Roman is even managing to pay attention.

"I get that, uh, reluctance. The playing-it-safe thing," Virgil says quietly, so only Dante can hear. "We travel a lot. That's a good excuse to avoid the whole fucking system. No conversations about who'll leave who when the mark shows up, because I'll be leaving in a month, tops. And people looking for hookups barely poke you to check for the mark before just... getting on with life. No expectations, no holding their breath or unrealistic disappointment."

Dante smiles weakly. "Well, good to know for when I need to start dating. I think I'm about to have a lot more free time."

"Until Roman needs to travel on again. We're here for three full weeks, but-"

"What is it you do, that you both travel so much?"

"You know Sun Prince, the singer?"

"Yeah?"

"You're looking at him," Virgil says wryly, tipping his head in Roman's direction.

Dante's eyes go wide. "Oh, that's why he looks familiar."

"So Patton probably didn’t recognize him either?"

"Nah, he tends to like EDM and electronic things the most, for the bassline. Clubbing with a deaf partner is great - the priority is just feeling the music, and we don't have to yell to hear each other."

Virgil and Dante continue to chat quietly on casual topics, but Virgil's leg is bouncing. He wants to ask the bigger questions, but it feel like prying. It's none of his business, really, right? 

But it's Roman's happiness on the line. And Virgil will do anything and everything to protect his brother. Even if it means awkwardness.

"So, uh. Did y'all have the Conversation™️ before now?"

Dante raises a questioning eyebrow in response.

"The 'what happens if he meets his soulmate' conversation. Don't tell me Pat's the only one you've ever dated?"

Dante blinks in a way that implies that were they a lesser being, they might have blushed. "Actually, he is. But yes, we've had that conversation. I'll never get in the way of Pat's romantic love and his soulmate… destiny, ou comme tu veux. I just want to still have a part in his life."

They're tugging at their gloves again, even though their face remains smooth. Virgil recognizes a nervous tic when he sees one. And god does he recognize the sentiment.

Not that any of his past partners had ever wanted to stick around in return. Why would they? He wasn't their soulmate. They hadn't decided to "settle" yet.

"I can't speak for him, but- I think Roman will be open to that," Virgil offers. "He loves performing, so we'll probably still be traveling a fair amount. But I mean. I think he'd understand that you two are a unit the same way me and him are. Like, yeah, we're brothers, but we've been each other's lifeline our whole lives, and that's not about to change. Even if he's finally found his Other Half."

Dante looks up gratefully. "I can tell you love him. And- I hope you're right."

"I should be. If Roman's a dick about it, I'll smack him upside the head."

That surprises a laugh out of Dante. They finally pull off their glove entirely, shaking it out and letting it dry on the table. "I won't interfere with them, you'll encourage Roman to not interfere with us. Do we have a deal, then?"

They offer their bare hand to shake. For once, Virgil doesn't hesitate, but takes it immediately.

Skin hits skin. Virgil finds an agreeable little shudder running down his spine as he appreciates for the first time how attractive this person is. Elegant chestnut curls, heterochromatic eyes that are dancing with delight, and disarming smile. 

Dante winks as they withdraw their hand. "What, not going to check for your completed mark now, just in case?"

Virgil grins back. "No, but I can help you look for yours later, if you want."

"Is that a proposition? Monsieur, goodness, you move fast," Dante replies, fluttering their eyelashes.

Virgil shrugs. "It could be one. You know, we're clearly gonna be around each other a lot. They found each other the old fashioned way. Maybe we could try something a bit... less traditional."

Dante smiles. "I'd like that a lot, Virgil. Should we break into cloud nine over there and ask them about the future now?"

Virgil nods. Soulmark or not, the future's looking pretty good.

tag list: @residentanchor @royally-anxious @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt ​@thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @max-is-tired @almostoveranalyzed @hawthornshadow @mariniacipher and obligatory royality tag @notveryglittery and anxceit tag @vintage-squid

[hippityhoppitygetofmyproperty]

Damaged Wing(s) : When He Loved Me

Characters: Patton, Janus, Virgil

Ships: Moceit, Platonic/Brotherly Moxiety

Trigger warnings: Drugging, Blood, Somewhat body horror, Morally grey Janus, Hospitals (Let me know if I need to add any!:

Genre: Angst or Hurt with a little Comfort

Word count: 998

Universe: Human AU

Ao3 link

The title is based off of the song “When She Loved Me” from Toy Story 2. Just so everyone knows, I wrote this but am too tired to go through and correct typos and things like that, so I’m sorry if you find stuff like that. Lastly @badthingshappenbingo​

Anyways, I hope you enjoy what this turned out to be!

——————————

They met in their final year of college.

The professor announced to the class that for their end semester project, they had to choose a partner. Patton looked around to find that almost everyone has paired off with the closest person to them, everyone except one person in the corner. Possibly because of his lack of wings, or maybe because he wasn’t near anyone, maybe both, but that didn’t matter to Patton.

“Hi, I’m Patton! Would you like to be partners?” Patton said while extending his arm for a handshake.

“Janus and... fuck it, why not.” He took Patton’s hand and pulled him into the seat next to him.

And then it went off from there.

They quickly got to know each other during their meet-ups for the project and Patton fell in love. Their project meet-ups dissolved into coffee dates and movie nights, their friendly chats morphed into playful banter and comforting words, everything just felt right and there was no doubt in Patton’s mind that they didn’t love each other.

After they both graduated, they moved in with each other... Virgil was not on board with that.

(”Patton, there’s just something about him that’s not right.”

“Virgil, relax, I’ve known him for quite a while and there’s no bad bone in his body.”

“Listen, he just gives off this vibe that’s not right but I just don’t know what it is.”

“Virgil...”

“Look, I only want to protect my little brother.”

“I understand, but I don’t need protection. I’m okay, I promise.”)

There was nothing wrong with Janus. Maybe he keeps saying how pretty Patton’s wings are, but he’s just being sweet (and his wings are pretty nice, a pale blue fading into a more bold shade at the tips, accented with a soft grey). So, as they settled onto the couch, watching a movie, everything felt right.

----

He should’ve listened to Virgil. It happened around two months after they moved in together.

It was just a normal day, Patton had just come home from work to a surprise from Janus.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Patton said as he looked at the table completely covered with food.

“Ah, but I wanted to,” he took Patton’s hand to take him to the table. “You go ahead and sit down while I get you your drink.”

The dinner was delicious, and after they were finished, Janus took Patton over to the couch to watch a movie. Barely a quarter of the way in the movie, Patton noticed he was very drowsy, which was strange. He didn’t do anything different that day than he normally would, he got a normal amount of sleep, he didn’t skip out on any meals, so what could be the problem?

Janus took notice of how Patton could barely keep his head up and said with a small smirk, “It’s okay, dear. You can rest for tonight.”

And Patton was out.

----

The first thing Patton noted when he woke up was that he was in /a lot/ of pain, the next was that he felt off-balance. He tried to open his eyes with little success and let out a small whine of frustration.

“Patton?”

Wait, was that Virgil? Why was Virgil in his apartment?

“Hey, Cookie, are you there?”

Oh, something must be very wrong, Virgil only used his nickname when it was serious.

After a bit of struggle, Patton was able to get his eyes open to find a bright light… and the realization that this was not his apartment.

“V,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Why am I here?”

He looked towards Virgil to find him with a protective look on his face and his wings twitching, wanting to reach out and protect his younger brother. “To put it simply, you were drugged and had your wings hacked off with a kitchen knife.”

Well then.

“How did I get here,then?”

----

Virgil was starting to get worried, Patton was late for their breakfast meet-up. They only have breakfast together every month, they still visit each other frequently, but breakfast meet-ups were a special thing Patton would never be late to.

Maybe he just got caught up with something? Maybe he accidentally slept in? Maybe his apartment had a power outage and his alarm clock got turned off?

Virgil looked at the time. Patton was only 30 minutes late, he could wait for 10 more minutes.

...

10 minutes came and went and Patton still hasn’t arrived... and Virgil knew something must’ve been wrong at that point. He stepped out of their meeting place and started on the quickest flying route to Patton’s apartment, worried out of his mind.

He reached the apartment very shortly, realized the door was unlocked, and opened the door to find an unconscious Patton on the couch covered in blood... he did not hesitate calling the paramedics.

——

“Oh” Patton said once Virgil was done retelling what happened. He had his next question in mind, but hesitated whether or not it was the right thing to ask at the time. He decided to ask it anyway.

“Where’s Janus?”

A murderous look crossed over Virgil’s face. “Janus.” He hissed out, and Patton never thought a single word could be said with so much venom. “That asshole-“

“Hey now-“

“Is suspected to have been the one to drug you and chop off your wings! He left the apartment without a single fucking trace, everything of his has been cleaned out, every picture with him in it has been torn or broken, and so far nobody has been able to find him!”

Patton felt the blood drain from his face. Janus, his boyfriend that he absolutely loves (or loved), had cut off his wings and drugged him. The person that he possibly trusted the most, next to Virgil, just cut himself out of their life so easily. He could practically feel his heart shattering.

To say Virgil comforted him until he fell asleep was an understatement.

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

In the meantime, I would love some fic recommendations that I can download off Ao3 to keep me going! I'll tag my favourite ships, but I like most ships*!

In general, I love angst (generally with a happy ending!), hurt comfort, and since I'm going to be alone and sad, I'll probably appreciate some fluff.

My favourite fics are also Patton or Roman centric, but this isn't a requirement at all! And also, maybe some longer stories with more of a heavy plot or AUs would be good distractions?

*Although roceit is a bit eeh for me and remrom is a huge trigger and in general I'm not here for most Logan centric angst, I'm sorry! Everything else is great for me though! Don't feel like you can't rec a fic just because it doesn't include one of the tagged ships!! I'm a massive multishipper!!!

[toadandtails]

Can I share something with y'all? I fucking DIE for Deceit. I'm pretty sure he is my favorite side.

Deceit things I'd die for:

Him

Sympathetic Deceit

Name reveal

Dark side evil boyo

Fancy aesthetic

Servant vibes and aesthetic

Dukeceit

Roceit

Moceit

Loceit

Sleepceit

Brotherly Anxceit

Him

I'd die for this man.

[broadwaytheanimatedseries]

ok so like I know that

Highschool Roleswap AU's are super common, but that's why part of the fun for me is to find combinations that I haven't seen yet.

And y'all, I'm real proud of this:

Pastel Prep Logan

Outcast Nerd Virgil

Wallflower Patton

Goth loner Deceit

Punk Rebel Roman

Thespian Remus

Logan Roman and Remus are juniors, while Patton Virgil and Deceit are sophomores.

Logan and Virgil Sorge are brothers, Logan older by a year has gotten used to taking a leading role in every situation. So by the time he was in highschool, it was no surprise how charismatic he has become. Even if he doesn't fully understand feelings, he understands people and how to get them to listen and follow. He was voted student body president two years in a row (including the current year), and he dresses in colorful, yet sensible, outfits and a few accessories, mostly just ties with different patterns and colors. Virgil however, feels very burdened by the accomplishments Logan has achieved, feeling that he has to live up to the high expectations Logan has set, however illogical that conclusion may be, as Logan himself keeps reassuring his little brother. So he throws himself into school, just trying to keep up with his brother who effortlessly gets good grades, he never wears anything too intense or out there, not wanting to accidentally make himself a target of bullying. Of course, one often meets their doom trying to avoid it, and he becomes quite the common target for bullies, so long as his older brother isn't there to defend him.

Roman and Remus Rosales used to be inseparable, which made them indistinguishable from each other. That was fun for a while but at some point they got tired of being confused for the other and decided to find their own styles and directions. They don't actually resent each other as much as they pretend to, it's mostly just an act to keep their lives separate enough so people don't confuse them again, but they really respect each other and are quite close outside of school. When Remus explained to Roman how important theatre was for him, that it was a place to express his more frowned upon tendencies, that through improv he felt he could say whatever is on his mind and not be so judged for it, and through choreographimg stage fights he found a more creative outlet for his more violent thoughts, Roman realized that his brother needed the stage more than he did. Besides, there were other ways to get people's attention. And with that sentiment in mind, Roman the Rebel was born. He became the school's resident trouble making punk, when there's a prank on an infamous teacher or a feared bully with a broken nose, you know Roman was involved. He still does some set design and other things to help with the school's theatre department occasionally, not being able to stay away from his first passion for too long, but he mostly gets his creative outlet from his pranks, graffiti, drawing in general, and secretly, so it won't ruin his punk image, poetry. He and Logan often butt heads, the preppy president and the reckless rebel never seeing eye to eye on most things, but when Roman and Virgil bond in the backstage of the the theatre department's latest production, with Virgil being the techie and Roman helping design the costumes, Logan is gonna have to keep a closer eye on Roman than ever to make sure his little brother doesn't get his heart broken, and who knows? Maybe he'll even learn to get along with the punk. Meanwhile, Logan's new involvement in the theatre department leads to Remus having a lot more interest in him. At first he's rather cruel to him seemingly just to get on his nerves but truly because he doesn't like the way the pastel prick talks about his twin brother, but when he realizes Logan is only looking out for his own brother he gets a new perspective, and starts debating him, in his own chaotic, Remus way, and the two start to bond as well.

Meanwhile, Patton Good and Cecil Doležal, the only two people Virgil would occasionally hang out with, start seeing him less and less, and in their attempts to look for him, get to spend more time with each other and find they have a lot more in common than they ever imagined...

Let me know what you think and if you want to see more of this au!

And As Always,

Stay Tuned!

[djpurple3]

Tell them we’re survivors - Sanders Sides Fic

Word-count: 14,200(ish) words [under the cut]. Oneshot. Ships: Logince, theoretical/possibly implied moceit (if you choose to read it as such) also shoutout there’s some good good brotherly creativitwins in here bc i love remus :) Warnings: touch starvation, arguments, swearing, self-deprication/self-doubt, food / descriptions of food / some unhealthy eating habits, brief injury / blood mention, a panic attack. Hurt/Comfort :) Angst w/ happy ending (big romantic ending, too, sorry it ran away from me lmao)

Post-Putting-Ourselves-First.

---

bet yall thought i wasn’t going to post new stuff anymore huh. well im still kicking. also if you’ve been tagged in this but don’t want to read it, all good!!! i just tagged a bunch of people on the Offchance u might have wanted a Fic. Read responsibly <3 ily

---

Roman is shivering.

He sits alone on the couch – and it is very late. He waits and listens for Patton go into his bedroom before he at all dares to leave his own. He’s sick of his surroundings, of staring at the same four walls, and so he comes downstairs and sits on the couch.

He might be waiting for something.

He doesn’t know what.

He curls up on himself and tips over sideways, lying in a ball on the sofa and closing his eyes, deciding on the fly that he’s sleeping here tonight.

He is still shivering. He is not necessarily cold.

Not cold in a temperature kind of way. But something in his chest is cold, which sets the chill across his skin like an apathetic blanket.

Roman… wants a hug.

But it’s 2am, and Patton’s just gone to bed. The others should be asleep, …but they all have terrible sleep habits, so no one probably is.

But Roman’s not going to ask. Because it’s embarrassing, it proves him to be weak, and honestly, it’s just too much effort.

He falls asleep on the couch.

---

He wakes up at roughly 5am, and slinks back upstairs before he can be caught, and tries to catch a few more hours sleep before he puts his clothes in the dryer, and then goes on to drag himself into a warm-warm-hot shower to try and chase the chill from his bones, and he fetches his warm clothes and taking a moment to change into them and enjoy the simulated contact. He can’t help the delighted shivers it sends down his spine, and he hates himself for it, because it really is pathetic, isn’t it?

He goes about his day normally. He tries not to stare as Patton gives Virgil a very big hug. Patton has not hugged Roman in a long time. Patton probably assumes that Roman does not want hugs from him.

…It is very much the opposite. But if Patton does not want to give Roman hugs, then Roman will not force the matter.

He turns around to continue into the kitchen when he realises that Logan is: a) already there, and b) watching him closely, and he turns red and carefully slips past, trying his best not to touch Logan.

They make toast side-by-side, and as Roman reaches for the jam jar, Logan passes it to him and their fingers brush, and fuck! Roman jolts because oh god, he really is sensitive now, isn’t he?

“Roman?”

“Electric shock,” he quickly excuses himself, even though they both know it wasn’t that at all, and takes the jar before either of them drop it. “Thanks.”

Logan picks up his plate and goes to leave, but he looks Roman up and down once more, with his now-shaking hands and his now-hot cheeks, and pauses.

He stops to pat Roman on the back before he leaves the kitchen.

It’s so warm warm warm Logan come back please god come back

Roman shivers and continues making his toast.

---

They have a movie night, and Roman is torn as he comes downstairs. Because his tradition is to hog all the pillows and build himself a throne, but this is an optimal chance to get some human contact.

Also, if he wanted the pillows, he needed to have shown up twenty minutes before in order to actually steal them before Virgil gets there.

They’re scheduled to start in five minutes. So he’s already fucked up that plan.

He heads downstairs and sees his friends already comfortable. Patton and Virgil are sitting together, Patton draped over Virgil’s lap like a cat. Logan is perched in his usual spot, sipping iced coffee. Roman glances to where he normally sits, which is very un-pillowed, and he doesn’t really know what to do as an alternative.

…After the last video and all the confrontations that came with it, the others don’t like him very much. He can tell by how cold they’ve all become to each other. He can tell by how strained Patton’s smile is when it turns on him, and he can see in the way Virgil raises an icily judgemental eyebrow.

“Are you joining us?” Virgil asks.

“Um,” Roman says, always so eloquent. “Maybe? I…” Stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time “I mostly came down for a snack, rather than a movie.”

He strikes a pose. “Though I already am a snack, of course.”

“Of course,” Virgil echoes dryly. “So… we’ll start without you, and you can sit down if you change your mind.”

Patton tries to smile at him again. Roman attempts to smile back, throws a peace sign of acknowledgement into the air, and hurries into the kitchen.

Logan turns to look at him, and Roman deliberately puts his back to Logan as he hunts around in the cupboard for something he doesn’t really want to eat, and he ends up making popcorn, leaning against the bench and watching the bag spin around and around, and before he knows it he’s emptying it into a big bowl and returning to the sofa.

He’s probably going to sit on the floor. He’s thinking about sitting closer to Logan, if Logan doesn’t object.

He loiters for a moment, and Logan’s the only one who glances at him. Before Roman can ask anything, the embodiment of logic pats the empty spot beside him.

“Here,” he says.

It is not an order, but Roman doesn’t argue. He settles in beside Logan, and Logan glances at him once more. Unbidden, he shuffles closer just a fraction so that their thighs are pressed together.  Roman tries to keep the sound that the contact elicits from him down in his throat, and wordlessly offers Logan popcorn to avoid speaking.

They sit and watch the movie together, snacking, and Roman’s skin is on fire in a way that he has been craving for days.

He doesn’t realise how sleepy the warmth makes him until about three-quarters of the way through, where his head is nodding into his chest and he really, really wants to curl up against Logan and fall asleep… but he just can’t do that. He doesn’t deserve it. Not anymore.

It doesn’t help when Logan gently takes the empty bowl out of his hands – it was what Roman had been focussing on not-dropping in order to stay awake.

Roman pulls away, sits upright, and tries to pinch himself to stay conscious.

Logan leans over to him, brow creased with something that Roman might even call concern.

“Are you alright?”

“Mm-hm,” Roman manages, and that’s about all he can manage.

“You look tired.”

Roman shrugs, and nods, and Logan glances at the others, who seem to be purposefully ignoring them.

“If you want to sleep, you can,” Logan offers, and he slinks one of his arms across the back of the sofa, behind Roman, and it takes a moment for the prince to realise what’s being offered.

“I…” he clambers to his feet. “I… yes, you’re right. I’m going to turn in for the night.”

“But…” Patton suddenly speaks up, and his voice is strained. “You love Paddington, don’t you?”

Roman blinks, and his eyes flick back to the screen. He hasn’t really even clicked as to what they are watching. And… yes, it in fact is Paddington that has been playing for the past seventy minutes.

“Um,” Roman says, and edges towards the stairs. They’re all staring at him now. His skin is burning and icy and crawling and he feels so many words, too many words trying to slip off his tongue like oil and he just swallows hard and tries to give them anything - anything at all - as an excuse. “I… I’m sorry, I don’t… feel great? I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just gonna… go.”

And he bolts.

It is a very long, cold night. He can feel where Logan’s leg had been pressed up against his, and the absence of such a small but persistent touch leaves Roman crying uselessly into his pillow. And somehow, despite all that, he still manages to fall asleep.

---

Roman has a funny feeling that Logan’s… trying something. Because Logan’s hanging around him a lot, constantly making up excuses to be in the prince’s company. And he’s gotten kinder, which is certainly novel. Roman sees that, and he knows well how hard it is, so he does his best to return the favour.

But the thing that makes Roman truly think that that Logan is up to something is the fact that he’s quietly become… well, handsier… for lack of a better term.

He pats Roman on the wrist when they’re sitting brainstorming together and Roman’s made a good point. He presses his hand into the small of Roman’s back when he’s guiding him somewhere, or silently requesting for Roman to step out of the way. He pats Roman on the shoulder in greetings every morning.

Does Logan know what he’s doing? Most likely. Does Roman hate him for it?

…No.

God, he’s so fucking weak that he’ll take anything he can get.

---

It’s not really gotten better yet. But! Roman can confidently say that it has not gotten any worse, so he’ll take his small victories where they come.

He comes down one morning for breakfast, trying to make sure he keeps his habit of eating regularly, but he hears voices he isn’t prepared to hear, and he freezes at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the back of Janus’ head, who is talking to Patton, and chokes down a few choice curses before he can give himself away.

Patton looks over Janus’ shoulder. At Roman. His face pinches, expression going from smiling to guarded in a heartbeat. Janus glances over his shoulder to see what his new best friend is looking at, and their eyes meet.

The blood drains from Roman’s face. He turns promptly on his heel and goes back up the stairs.

They watch him leave, but do not call out to him.

…That’s fine. He doesn’t deserve a second chance. He doesn’t want to ruin their morning.

…He wasn’t hungry anyway.

---

That, it promptly turns out, is a lie.

Roman is curled up in the corner of his room, on the floor. He has given up on sitting at his desk because despite all the tweaks he keeps making to its height and material and texture and breadth is just never a comfortable experience, and sits with his arms wrapped around his stomach, watching the digital clock by his bedside blink-blink-blink.

Hunger pangs fade. They always do. He can wait them out. Nothing he hasn’t done before. Though if Janus is still downstairs at lunch, he probably will have to skip that as well because there’s no real way he can explain himself for missing breakfast but not lunch when they clearly saw him walk away.

He curls up tighter and fights back tears, watching the seconds blink by.

Nothing less than he deserves.

There is a light knock at the door, and then Logan lets himself in.

“…Roman?”

He doesn’t spot the prince right away from his depression corner, giving Roman a good moment to figure out what the hell Logan has hanging from the crook of his elbow.

Finally, Logan’s eyes find his, and he smiles a tight smile – one of poorly-hidden concern. He lifts the (and yes, it really does seem to be a) picnic basket, and gestures for Roman to stand up.

“I thought, perhaps, you might like to join me, for a picnic. In the Imagination, perhaps? Or even the living room. Or right here. I, um, wherever you’re comfortable.”

He gestures to the basket like Roman hasn’t seen it yet, and the bewilderment on his friend’s face makes Logan shift on his feet awkwardly.

“Or I can leave the basket with you,” he murmurs. “I… do you not like the basket? Is it too much? I thought you might like this sort of thing. I, uh, pardon me, if I misjudged.”

“No!” Roman is scrambling to his feet. “I… um, that sounds… delightful. Thank you, Logan.”

Logan offers his hand, …and Roman forgets to hesitate.

---

Roman can’t stomach facing the Imagination, and Logan isn’t really that comfortable in there anyway. It was quite touching he offered it in the first place, now that Roman reflects on it. So instead they head downstairs and start pushing furniture out of the way, and Roman summons the nicest picnic blanket he can think of and they lay it out on the floor. Logan finds a three-hour youtube video of wildlife to play on the TV to simulate being outside, and they have a picnic.

Virgil comes downstairs at one point, scrolling on his phone, and takes a moment to take in what on earth he’s looking at, at Logan and Roman with sandwiches in hand, staring back at him. Logan is staring impassively, like he’s challenging him to say something.

Virgil finally turns his gaze onto the princely side he’s seen so little of recently, and flinches, because…

Roman looks terrified. And half-ready to sink out here and now.

“Carry on,” Virgil mumbles, dropping his head and hurrying into the kitchen. “Just getting some Gatorade.”

---

Roman is still tense, but the fact that Virgil hasn’t shouted at him or told him to back off is reassuring. Virgil has the bottle tucked under his arm and he’s holding a…?

“Do you… drink it with a wine glass?” Logan asks for the both of them, equally as confused.

Virgil shifts on his feet, rolling the aforementioned wine glass between his fingers. “I like the irony of it,” he shrugs. “…So, an indoor-picnic? Not wanting to face the rays of the death-star today?”

Roman laughs at that, and immediately claps his hand over his mouth like familiarity is not allowed. Logan rolls his shoulders.

“The sun is not a death-star,” he deadpans.

“Are you sure?”

“Just because you wear all-black in all weather doesn’t mean everyone suffers like you, Virgil.”

“You wear all-black!”

“I wear a linen shirt. Far more breathable.”

Roman’s snorting the quietest laughter he can manage into his hand. Virgil’s watching him, trying not to be as obvious as he probably is being.

After a moment, Roman brings his hand down from his mouth, and it strikes Virgil that this is the first smile he’s seen out of him in a long time.

“Roman,” he says before thinking about it, and Roman’s joy is gone in a heartbeat. His hands fall to his lap, and he sits up straight, prepared to be… reprimanded? Virgil doesn’t really know, and it sickens him.

“I, uh,” he stammers, backing away, clutching his Gatorade for moral support. “It’s… nice to see you. Been a while.”

Roman’s lips ghost the words nice to see you with a sort of detached surprise, before a smile manages to fight its way back onto his face.

“…You too.”

Logan takes a moment to check the basket, and they all can see that there’s more than two people’s worth of food there. Logan looks up at Roman, a question in his eyes, and Virgil watches Roman take a breath, and nod.

Logan turns to him. “If you would like to join us,” he says softly, “we would not be opposed.”

Virgil looks at Roman, who looks – for lack of a better term – fragile. He feels a stab of remorse for what’s happened, because he never really did get Roman’s side of the story, did he? But he sees a glimmer of the old prince as Roman winks at him, and returns to his sandwich.

“Yeah,” Virgil agrees, croaking through a suddenly dry throat. “Yeah, I’d love to. Let me grab a couple more glasses, then.”

---

Patton comes down for a snack at about 2pm and is surprised to find the three of them picnicking in the living room, wine glasses of Gatorade in their hands. He pauses, eyes scanning the back of Virgil’s head, Logan’s side profile, and…

Roman’s wide-eyed expression as they stare each other down.

Logan notices Roman’s expression first, and turns to see what’s wrong, and blinks as he realises who it is. Virgil turns and looks at him.

“Oh,” he says, “hey, Pat.”

The moment of silence is the tensest thing Patton’s experienced in a while.

“Hi,” he replies slowly. “…What’s all this?”

“A… picnic?” Logan offers. “I… I thought it resembled a picnic. Is it because it’s not outside? I will clean up after us, if you’re worried about that, Patton.”

“Oh, no,” Patton smiles, but it’s a little strained because Roman’s there, Roman’s right there, and he still hasn’t figured out if he’s happy with Roman yet. “That’s alright. I was just wondering if I was… missing out on something, I guess!”

Roman hasn’t said a word. Patton’s eyes turn back to him and Roman looks terrified, looks queasy, and his hands a gripping the blanket beneath them and Patton’s eyes widen and he goes to say something soothing but –

Roman sinks out.

Patton’s “wait, Roman-” comes a second too late and the prince resurfaces in his own room with a sharp gasp. He stumbles over to his bedroom door and locks it, before falling into bed and pulling the blankets over his head like it will protect him from the world.

---

Roman is cold. Roman’s so fucking cold and he’s really getting sick of it. After his run-in with Patton he is less willing to risk leaving his room while others are around, and it means that he’s been evading Logan as well.

He half-expects Logan to have given up on him. He’s almost hoping for it. Because it will be easier for them to accept that he’s just someone you simply give up on; rather than someone who deserves unfaltering support.

He knows what sort of person he is. He just wonders if Logan’s figured it out yet, too.

He slinks out of his room at 1am one night, ferociously hungry and thirsty and terrifically lonely. He creeps downstairs and as soon as he sets foot in the kitchen his midnight snack quest turns into a full-on raid. There are leftovers in the fridge, set aside, and Roman suspects they’re for him.

He eats them cold, in the middle of the kitchen, in his pyjamas. The fake-tiles are uncomfortably chilled against his bare feet.

There is the creak of footsteps on the stairs – fast but quiet, and Roman’s choking on his spaghetti as he tries to finish quickly, already hating himself for daring to come downstairs, but freezes as he realises it’s…

Remus?

His brother jumps over the bannister and crosses the room so quickly that he’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen, panting from his mad dash, and his normally unhinged expression is broken with a genuine smile.

“Roman!” he says, brightly but still hushed. “You are alive!”

Roman, who is frozen to the spot, makes a point of swallowing and loosening his joints from the tension that rooted him in place.

“Um,” he mumbles, putting the now-empty container down on the bench. “…I am? Hello.”

Remus shakes, a full-body shudder he can’t restrain, and then before Roman can blink, Remus is right there and he’s thrown his arms around him and pulling him in tight, buries his face in Roman’s shoulder, and Roman can’t keep the ragged gasp down.

His skin is on fire. His brother is so warm so warm so warm oh god! And he can’t stop himself from just melting on the spot, falling back against his brother with the most pathetic noise whining from the space behind his nose.

He has never really given his brother a hug before. Remus is very good at it. Roman would be feeling guilty if he had any capacity for logical thought in this moment in time. But he doesn’t. All he can do is press himself into Remus’ chest as much as he can, blindly seeking warmth.

“Oh fuck,” Remus hisses. “Oh, dude… Logan said he thought you were touch-starved, but fuck, Roman!”

Roman shakes his head in tiny, tiny motions, because fuck, he knew Logan figured it out! His face is hot with embarrassment and he does his best to hide it in Remus’ sleepshirt.

“It’s okay,” Remus murmurs. “It’s okay, I gotcha. Do you need anything else? You had enough to eat?”

Roman ends up pointing at the empty cup on the bench – he hadn’t gotten around to getting himself a drink, and Remus carefully negotiates the two of them (still holding him tight with one arm) and fills the glass in the sink, pressing it into Roman’s hand.

Roman downs it in a heartbeat, and puts it down on the bench so that he can get back to hugging his brother, gasping for air.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t-” he’s mumbling, and Roman knows he’s incoherent, but he can’t control himself anymore now that the dam has burst.

“I’m not letting you go,” Remus vows, hugging him tight. “Is there anyone we can go to right now? Anyone you feel comfortable around?”

Roman’s hands tighten on the back of Remus’ shirt. He has no reply. Remus doesn’t miss that.

“Logan wants to help you,” he tells his brother in a low voice. “Can I take you to him?”

Roman’s shaking, but… he nods.

“Great,” Remus says. Instead of separating to climb the stairs, he sinks them down straight into Logan’s room.

---

The desk-lamp is on when they get there. Logan is sitting on his bed reading, but is noticeably not-asleep.

“You found him,” Logan notes, immediately setting his book aside as the twins appear, and Remus is already practically dragging Roman his way.

“You were right,” Remus declares. “This bitch is so touch-starved I think he’s turned into a koala.”

Logan puts a hand on Roman’s shoulder, which makes him shudder, but he doesn’t let Remus go, and he doesn’t lift his head.

Remus and Logan glance at each other, concerned, before Remus jolts, and he’s patting Roman’s shoulders frantically.

“Oh, no, Roman, don’t cry.”

He can feel the wetness through his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles out. “I can’t… I can’t help myself. I know it’s so pathetic, I know I’m not allowed it, I know I have to be better than this!”

“All those things you ‘know’ are bullshit,” Remus snaps back; not angry – just frustrated that Roman needs to be convinced of his worth. “And- hang on, let’s backtrack. You’re allowed to cry.”

“Bottling emotions is never healthy,” Logan adds, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Or… so I’m told.”

Roman laughs, a harsh sound that sounds more like a creature in pain, and shakes his head.

“You’re allowed this,” Remus continues, squeezing his brother tight. “You’re allowed to want to be looked after, and we’re allowed to do it.”

“I don’t want to be a hassle,” Roman mumbles.

“You aren’t a hassle,” Logan cuts him off. “You’re my friend.”

Friend. Roman doesn’t know if he has any of those anymore. Friend. Well, apparently, he’s got one.

“Roman, would you like some physical company tonight? For sleeping?” Logan offers, and he’s extended his hand.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to...,” Remus says quietly, patting his brother on the back even as Roman looks up at him. “…You know I can’t control my thoughts… sometimes. I don’t want to… hurt… you.”

Roman squeezes Remus in his arms once, tightly, before making himself let go. It’s almost painful, letting go, and as soon as he does step away, he’s shivering, and he takes a step back from the two of them and he already wants to throw himself back at his brother even for just a scrap of comfort.

Remus thrusts his hands into his pockets and smiles at him. “I… I’m gonna leave you in Logan’s hands, alright? He’ll look after you.”

Before Roman can argue, Remus sinks out, leaving the two of them alone.

---

Logan takes a hesitant step towards him, and instinctively, Roman takes a step back. God, he feels like a wounded animal. Logan stops dead, and clasps his hands deliberately in front of him.

“Roman,” he says softly. “Roman, Remus is right, I want to help you.”

“I know you do,” Roman replies, voice equally as hushed. “I… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to help me?” Roman’s beginning to cry again, and he shies away as the tears start to fall. “I’m not worth it, Logan. I’m nasty and cruel a-and selfish! Why help me?”

“You are not those things!” Logan counters, immediacy in his voice. “You… I want to help you because you are a sensitive and kind person who has been taught the wrong things. And it’s not that you are those things, it’s that you’ve been convinced you are. That’s not fair, Roman.”

Logan closes the distance and pulls Roman into a warm and steady hug.

“I want to help you,” he murmurs, “because it figuratively kills me to watch what’s happening to you. Figuratively.”

“Figuratively,” Roman agrees, burying his face in Logan’s shirt. He’s in his pyjamas as well. “Why are you awake, Mr Eight Hours of Sleep? Don’t tell me you’re breaking your circadian rhythm for me.”

“I might be,” Logan shrugs, and he says it so nonchalantly, but it’s a big admission from Logan, if Roman dares to think about it too hard.

He doesn’t, though.

He ends up in Logan’s bed, in Logan’s arms, against Logan’s chest, and he’s shaking, trying not to cry and failing miserably, and Logan’s got him, Logan’s there, and Roman can’t help but just… sleep. Because he feels safe, and loved. And it’s been so long since he’s felt either of those things.

He might feel the press of lips on his temple as he drifts off. Roman decides he must already dreaming.

---

They spend the whole next day together. Roman hardly leaves Logan’s room except for a change of clothes plus a shower, and for food. And they don’t spend it working – or at least, Roman doesn’t. Logan sits amidst a stack of beanbags and encourages Roman to sit sort-of straddling his hips, their chests pressed together and Roman clinging to him like a lifeline, and Logan has his laptop in arms reach, peering over Roman’s shoulder as Roman buries his face in Logan’s neck as he taps away at his keyboard.

As Logan scrolls over what he’s written, he leans his head against Roman’s.

“How’r’you going?” Roman murmurs, and he feels Logan shiver under him as his lips ghost over Logan’s skin.

“I’m just finishing up,” Logan replies, wrapping one arm securely around Roman’s waist. “Give me ten minutes.”

Roman does.

Logan hits all the appropriate buttons, before closing his laptop and pushing it away from him, before finally wrapping both arms around Roman. For a moment, they listen to their breathing.  

Roman’s stomach growls.

He whines and buries his face in Logan’s neck, and Logan can feel how the prince’s face heats up.

“Are you alright to go downstairs?” Logan asks, cupping the back of Roman’s neck with his hand and stiffening in surprise at how that just makes Roman melt.

Roman bites his lip, and curls into Logan closer.

“I guess,” he mumbles. “Why?”

“Lunch time,” Logan says, and he begins to rock gently. “I don’t know about you, but I am hungry.”

“Fair enough,” Roman mumbles, and his stomach betrays him loudly once more. “…I guess we should go downstairs.”

He is being held so tight and secure, and it’s so warm. Roman doesn’t want to move ever again. He curls up even tighter before he realises what he’s doing, and mumbles apologies as he tries to loosen his grip.

“I wonder,” Logan mumbles to himself, before Roman’s squeaking with surprise as the world lurches, and Logan’s on his feet still cradling Roman to his chest, and Roman instinctively crosses his legs behind Logan’s back, clinging to Logan’s shoulders as he stares at the floor, now several feet away.

“You’re strong,” he breathes.

“I suppose so,” Logan smiles, and he hitches Roman more comfortably across his hips. “Would this be sufficient to go downstairs with?”

Oh. Roman buries his face with what definitely isn’t a whimper.

“A ‘no’ is okay,” Logan reminds him softly, trying to coax Roman out of his shirt.

“Please,” Roman mumbles, not looking up.

“Alright.” Logan leans his head against Roman’s again. “Let’s go have lunch.”

---

They go downstairs, and only Virgil is there. And Virgil stares at them in amazement, and Roman refuses to look up from where he’s hiding his face in Logan’s shoulder, and Logan hitches the prince up higher over his hips once more.

“Good day, Virgil,” he says easily.

“Hi,” Virgil says distractedly. “You’re… strong.”

“Hm,” Logan jests lightly. “That’s what Roman said.”

Roman’s hands tighten against Logan’s shirt, and Logan gets the hint.

“So,” Virgil starts, eyes flicking between the koala prince and the embodiment of Logic who has recently become a eucalyptus tree, it seems. “…What’s all this?”

“Cuddles,” Logan says, like it’s the most common thing in the world. “Though I might have to put you down to make us food, Roman.”

Roman can’t keep the sound down – the pathetic one that is the embodiment of but I’m afraid that if you do you’ll never touch me again.

Then he tucks his chin away and starts to loosen his grip, in preparation for letting go.

“Hey, nah, don’t do that,” Virgil jumps in suddenly, and they both look at him in surprise. Virgil looks between the two of them, and there is something sympathetic glittering in his eyes. “I’ll make you guys something. Go sit down, Logan.”

Virgil does. He carries food over to where Logan is sitting on the couch, Roman curled up practically on his lap, and he hands them each a plate. Logan takes it with a thank you. Roman takes it with shaking hands.

“Hey,” Virgil says softly, and he puts his hand on Roman’s shoulder, which gets a sharp breath in from the prince. “…I get it, alright? Let me know if I can help.”

And Virgil walks away. Roman hunches over his plate and tries to hide his tears from Logan.

---

He has taken to sleeping with Logan.

That sounds bad, in his head, but he can’t help it because it’s currently Remus’ favourite joke. Roman hasn’t slept in his own bed in a while now. Logan’s bed isn’t as comfortable as his own, in Roman’s opinion, but he is very happy to give up a marginal increase of comfort for Logan.

Logan is almost always with him these days. When he can’t be, Remus is there, and to Roman’s surprise, so is Virgil. He remembers one afternoon in particular fondly, where Virgil and him sat back to back in Roman’s room, one earbud each and talking back and forth about their music, swapping tunes and sharing thoughts.

Roman feels better. It’s been a long time since he can say that.

---

It takes another three weeks of this before they have another movie night, and Patton and Janus are there.

Roman does not sit on his throne. He sits beside Logan, and Virgil moves from his usual spot behind Patton to sit on Roman’s other flank. Remus drapes himself over the back of the sofa, in the empty space between Virgil and Janus, cracking jokes between the two of them.

Patton stares at Virgil for a few moments, almost opening his mouth to say something, ask why he’s sitting so far away, but Virgil turns and murmurs something to Roman, who pauses, before nodding his head in tiny motions, and the words dry up in his throat.

Roman feels Patton’s eyes on them, and they look at each other.

He swallows hard, and smiles at Patton.

Patton looks caught out, before kind-of smiling back.

Then Janus hits play, and they don’t make contact again for the rest of the night.

---

A few more nights down the line, Roman wakes up in Logan’s arms terribly thirsty, and he carefully extracts himself from the bed. He takes a moment to look down at Logan, whose normally serious face is eased with sleep. Unconsciously, Logan makes a little sound of displeasure, and he feels around for Roman’s warmth. Roman puts a pillow in Logan’s arms to give him something to hug, and… quickly, before he can overthink the rush of warm in his own chest, pauses to press a kiss to Logan’s temple.

Roman feels something. Something about Logan. And if he’s honest, he’s a little scared of it.

He slips out of the room and down the stairs, and he makes it all the way to the kitchen before he realises that actually, the light is on in the kitchen, and people are there.

Patton and Janus are there, to be precise.

Roman freezes, like a deer in headlights. But it’s too late to back out now, they’re both looking at him. And Patton is rubbing his arms uncomfortably and looking away, and it’s clear he’s just freshly been crying.

“I…” Roman stammers. “I’m sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt. I just… wanted some water.”

Janus stares at him impassively, before he turns and fetches a glass of the shelf, moves to the sink, before approaching Roman and pressing the glass into his hand.

It is a clear dismissal.

Roman is shaking now, he’s spilling water on his foot and he turns away to take a drink to try and cover it up. It’s silent now, and Roman knows that it is once again his fault that the atmosphere has been ruined.

He drains his glass, puts it down, and glances at the two of them, before beginning to walk away.

They watch him go. It’s almost like they’re waiting for something.

…Roman thinks he knows what.

So he stops, turns around, and walks back, raising his chin, and decides for the first time in a long time that he’s going to be brave, goddamnit.

“I’m sorry,” he declares, his voice loud in the silence.

Patton looks up at him with wide eyes. Janus’ eyes narrow in distrust.

“What for?” Janus asks, folding his arms and moving a little in front of Patton, protecting Patton, protecting Patton from him, and Roman swallows hard.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats slowly, “for… fuck, for everything. Where do I start?”

“The beginning is a good place, I hear,” Janus deadpans, but his eyes are glittering with something Roman can’t place.

“Alright,” Roman shifts on his feet. Whilst he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about this moment; the apology; he still doesn’t know what to say. He hasn’t practiced. It’s not going to be good enough. But then again, it probably never will be.

He takes a breath in, and does his best.

“Patton… I’m sorry for all the pressure I put on you. I’m sorry for expecting you to have all the answers. I’m sorry for convincing you that you have to be all-knowing and perfect. It’s unfair to expect that from anyone,” he starts, and Patton’s eyes are watering, but he’s nodding along. “I… love you, padre, and I know I’ve hurt you. I’m so sorry for my terrible reactions, because I’m working on it, but it’s not fair that you got hurt by my horrible behaviour and beliefs.”

They hadn’t been only Roman’s beliefs. Roman had been doing what he was told. But that’s not what would make Patton feel better. And besides, Roman is right, his behaviour was (and still is) awful.

Patton nods once more, before swallowing hard.

“Thank you, Roman,” he says softly, voice bubbling with emotions that are spilling over as tears, but it’s not weeping, nor sobbing, nor screaming, so it’s going better than Roman had hoped.

Janus seems impressed. Roman shifts on his feet once more, debating leaving it there and then hating himself for even having that thought. Coward.

“And… Janus,” he says, formally, and Janus flinches because it’s the first time Roman’s ever used his name. “I… am sorry for shutting you out and calling you evil. I…”

Roman rolls his shoulders. He can’t say I didn’t know any better without Patton-related strings attached, and really, he should’ve known better, shouldn’t’ve he?

“It was ignorant,” he says instead. “And it was wrong. And I’m sorry. You are valuable and important, and I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Janus looks stunned. Roman turns and hurries away, choking down sudden and inexplicable tears. As he mounts the stairs, he adds one last thing.

“I’m sorry for laughing at your name,” he calls. “Janus is a good, strong name, and it suits you.”

And he hurries upstairs as they stare after him, but he doesn’t miss Janus turning away to wrap his arms around Patton in a tight hug.

Roman doesn’t return to Logan’s room. He crawls into his own bed, taking a moment to try and enjoy the comfort, and struggles to fall asleep for the rest of the night. He can’t stop shivering.

…He’s cold.

---

Roman knows it’s all too good to be true. That, he tells himself, is why he’s locking his door with him inside. He snuck back downstairs to steal a good few days worth of supplies from the kitchen, and he isn’t coming out.

Logan knocks on his door at 10am. Roman does not answer.

Logan comes back on the hour, every hour. At 7pm, he sighs, and Roman waits to hear the footsteps that signal he’s leaving, but they don’t come.

“Have I offended you, Roman?”

Roman jumps, and he knocks his glass off his desk by accident, and it shatters.

“Shit,” he hisses, and stumbles away from his chair to try and find something in his room to clean it up. The glass has gone everywhere. He accidentally steps in it. He should’ve worn shoes. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

“Roman, is everything alright?!”

“I just knocked a glass over!” he calls, trying to make it sound a lot less painful than it is. He regrets having white carpet. This’ll be a pain to clean.

“Roman, let me in, or I’m picking the lock.”

Logan’s voice leaves no room for argument, and he’s beginning to freak out a little if he’s being honest, so Roman stumbles over to the door and unlocks it, cursing himself for breaking so quickly, and grabs Logan’s arms as his darling nerd rushes in.

“Mind the glass,” he says faintly.

Logan looks down, and his expression drops, and he scoops Roman up and carries him to the bed, away from the mess.

“Let’s patch you up first, alright?” Logan soothes, and he hurries off to find a first aid kid, and he returns with Virgil, who winces at the sight of Roman’s feet but fetches the vacuum cleaner to hoover up the glass thoroughly.

Logan kneels on the carpet, eyes flicking up to Roman’s every few seconds as he carefully removes the glass and cleans the wounds, before bandaging Roman’s feet.

Roman makes the mistake of making eye contact with Logan, and the genuine concern in Logan’s eyes chokes him and almost brings Roman to tears then and there. So his eyes flick around the room instead, to anywhere but Logan’s face.

Virgil quickly leaves, and they hear him call for someone, and then he drags Remus back into the room and points at the stains.

“You know how to get blood out of carpet still?” he asks.

“Yep,” Remus replies. “Let me get my shit together.” And he hurries away to fetch whatever cleaning products he needs.

“Let’s get you out of here, hm?” Logan says, and he’s extending his arms to pick Roman up.

“No,” Roman says immediately, curling in on himself. Virgil and Logan stare at him.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Roman,” Virgil shakes his head. “…you don’t want to be in the room when Remus starts on the stains. Those chemicals, man…”

Roman puts his head in his hands, before forcing the tension out of his shoulders, and silently gets to his feet.

“Let me-” Logan’s already fawning.

“No,” Roman cuts him off, and he hobbles out of his room with his lips set in a hard line. They are calling to him. He hobbles to the bathroom, and once again locks the door.

Footsteps stop on the other side of the door as Roman perches on the edge of the bathtub. The door handle rattles uselessly.

“Roman,” Logan calls again. “I wasn’t joking about picking locks.”

“I don’t care,” Roman snaps back, and he hears the tense silence that follows it. “Leave me alone, why don’t you?”

“…Roman, what’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Roman pulls his hair and tries not to think about Janus and Patton and Patton and Janus. “Nothing that matters.”

“If it upset you, it matters,” Logan shoots back. And Roman is taken aback by how upset Logan sounds. “Roman, please, let me help you.”

“If you want to help,” Roman calls back, not really thinking, “then spend your time on something useful, why don’t you? Has Janus gotten fully settled into his new room yet? And perhaps you can move Remus into mine.”

Dead silence.

“Just go make yourself useful,” Roman pushes on, and he’s crying before he knows it. “And leave me behind.”

“I don’t want to leave you behind,” Logan snaps, and it’s sudden and raw and grieving. “Roman, you don’t think you’re useful? You have stripped us down to pure utility? That’s not healthy.”

“I’m not healthy!”

He can almost hear how Logan and Virgil must be glancing at each other.

“I… Don’t you guys get it? Thomas is unhappy because of unhealthy thinking, thinking which I participated in and perpetuated. Everything that’s gone wrong is because of me.”

“Falsehood,” Logan breaks his silence. “I… I have been the root of the problem before.”

“Like, once,” Roman scoffs. “Patton would have learnt what we were believing was actually wrong if I hadn’t been there backing him up. Perpetuated it.”

“I don’t think that’s right,” Virgil calls softly.

“I don’t care what you think,” Roman snaps, and immediately hates himself for it. The ice in his tone is unmistakeable and oh, he just can’t stop himself from hurting people, can he? He can hear Virgil’s sharp inhale through the door.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately follows up. “I… I didn’t mean that.”

“…I know,” Virgil says, before Roman hears one person move away from the door.

“Roman,” Logan says, and it makes sense, Roman supposes, that Logan is the last one there. “Please… You aren’t at fault for Patton’s mistakes.”

“No,” Roman cuts him off. “You’ll upset him if you word it that way.”

“What, if I hold him accountable for what he’s done?” Logan shoots back, and he sounds angry now. “Roman, you can’t magically make Patton pure and innocent by taking all the blame. Patton made mistakes. So has Janus. So did you. So have I. And Virgil!”

“Remus hasn’t.”

“Yes, but Remus is a kettle of fish all of his own. …It’s a strange metaphor. ‘Kettle of fish’. Why would you keep fish in a kettle?”

“Focus, nerd,” Roman says tiredly, and he shakes his head though Logan can’t see it. “Look, I get what you mean. I don’t think you’re right, but I get what you mean.”

There’s a quiet, and then there are footsteps, and quiet voices. Roman strains his ears, staring at the bathroom wall, and flinches as Patton begins to talk.

“Heya, Roman.”

He doesn’t trust himself to reply. He’s shaking. The blood is roaring in his ears. Patton says something else and Roman can’t reply because he doesn’t actually hear what Patton says. He can’t hear, he can’t breathe, he can’t compute anything and he can’t help himself when he stumbles towards the door and fumbles with the door handle before he distantly remembers he had locked it.

“I can’t…,” he gasps out, voice shrill and panicky. “I-I can’t-”

There is a sound of rattling and jostling from the other side of the door, before it opens, and Roman falls forward onto someone, who barely catches him but now that Roman’s attached he’s not letting go, and he’s crying in earnest and trying to gasp for air and failing. They sink to the floor. It’s nice to have nowhere left to fall.

“It’s okay,” someone tells him. “Roman, I need to you take nice and deep breaths for me, okay?”

Roman does as he’s told, but everything’s racing too fast, and the air wooshes in and out of his lungs too fast and he’s lightheaded but he can’t stop.

“Slow,” the voice corrects, and they pull him in close, whoever’s holding him. “Nice and slow breaths, Roman. I need to follow my instructions, okay? I’m going to count to four, Roman, and I want you to breathe in until I get to four.”

The voice does, and Roman obeys.

“Now, hold it while I count to seven, okay?”

The voice counts to seven and Roman holds his breath.

“Great, now breathe out as I count to eight. Go slow, your lungs should be empty on eight.”

And the voice counts, and Roman tries to control it but his breath still leaves him a little fast. But the voice isn’t angry. In fact, it seems to be quite the opposite.

“Great,” it soothes. “And again, Roman. In for four. We’re going to go until you are calm.”

And they do.

When Roman finally blinks back to himself, he’s on the floor, on his knees, with his arms locked tightly around Logan, who’s been the one guiding him through the breathing exercises. There is another set of arms around them, and Roman doesn’t lift his head from Logan’s chest to see who it is, because if it’s who he thinks it is, he’s going to break.

His steady breathing hitches, and he starts crying on the spot. …His feet hurt.

“Logan, can I?” says the person-he-doesn’t-want-to-identify, and Logan hesitates, before pulling away, ripping a whimper out of Roman, before he’s pulled against someone else’s chest – someone soft and steady and warm and light-blue and Patton pulls Roman into his lap and cradles him close as Roman can’t stop shaking.

“I’m sorry,” Patton whispers to him. “I’m so sorry.”

The floodgates open. Roman falls sobbing onto Patton’s shoulder and finally lets Patton hold him tight.

---

They need to talk. In fact, they probably should’ve done it then. But Roman is exhausted, and he can’t help himself but fall asleep in Patton’s arms, still clutching him tightly because even in unconsciousness Roman can’t let go, can’t let that touch escape.

Patton staggers to his feet with Roman cradled in his arms, struggling a little but not accepting Logan’s offer to carry him.

“He just… fell asleep?”

“Roman has been struggling with many things, recently. Touch starvation and sleep deprivation are two of them,” Logan tells him, gently reaching out to brush Roman’s hair back off his forehead.

Patton doesn’t comment on how tender the look on Logan’s face is. He winces, however, as Roman murmurs something in his sleep, and curls in closer to Patton’s chest.

“I imagine he feels safe,” Logan continues, hand falling back to his side. “So he just… shut down.”

Patton tears up, and looks away.

“I don’t deserve that,” he hums, and he hefts Roman in his arms. “I… I don’t deserve his trust.”

“I don’t think that’s right either,” Logan tells him quietly, a hand on Patton’s shoulder, and Patton shivers at the touch. “You two… you two seem to assume everyone hates you. I can assure you that is not the case.”

Patton’s eyes are wide and watery, and his arms are beginning to strain.

“Here,” Logan offers. “Let’s go downstairs, and you and Roman can sit on the couch together, alright?”

---

The moment Logan gets them settled, Patton has leant back into the corner of the couch, stretched out, and settles Roman against his chest, between his legs. With a sleepy murmur, Roman settles against Patton and hums to himself, and Logan’s heart wrenches at how gaunt the prince looks.

There is someone at the top of the stairs.

Logan turns on his heel and looks up. Janus is there, taking his hat off and pressing it to his chest as he watches Roman.

Janus watches him, his and Patton’s eyes meeting before Patton’s flitter away. Only then does Janus seem to be aware that Logan is looking at him.

“He certainly is a good actor,” Janus says, his voice hanging in the air.

Patton flinches, and his grip on Roman loosens.

“A good actor?” Logan echoes, and he can’t help the ice that creeps into his tone. “Is that what you think, Deceit?”

Janus looks at Logan in surprise, like he doesn’t expect Logan to disagree with him.

“You think everything Roman is going through is for attention?” Logan’s voice is rising and he can’t help himself, because Janus doesn’t know the first thing about what Roman has done to himself. “You’re saying he acted out a panic attack? You’re saying he acted out starving himself? Walking on glass for attention? You’re saying his touch starvation is a lie? Because I have eyes, Deceit, and I’ve been using them, and Roman’s not… Roman’s not been okay for a long time.”

Logan takes a physical step back and has to wipe the skin under his eyes because he’s not sure when he of all people started crying but here they are, before pressing on - “and just because you are so accustomed to seeing him fake being okay, it does not make you the expert on when he isn’t.”

Janus has recoiled, and as Logan looks back up at him, Logan can clearly see in his mismatched eyes that Janus is beginning to realise his mistake.

“A lot of what Roman is struggling with,” Logan grits out, forcing himself to lower his voice again, “has to do with your meddling, Deceit.”

“I have a name,” Janus says quietly, and he sounds fragile enough that Logan winces, regret finally dulling his anger.

He takes a moment to gather himself. He adjust his tie.

“…Janus,” Logan corrects himself, and he sees how Janus’ eyes widen once more, like he didn’t actually expect Logan to be the bigger person here at all. “I know you pride yourself on being observant, but you have spent your time comforting Patton. I know this, and I appreciate that, at least. But you have neglected Roman. You have used Roman. I know you are in a better position because of your efforts, in Thomas’ books and in your own, but you have dragged him down in order to get there.”

Logan is breathing hard. He’s struggling to keep his composure.

“Logan,” Patton says, and Logan flinches, balling his fists. He’d forgotten Patton was there. He’s shaking. He doesn’t know why. “Logan, it’s okay. We… we know.”

“Do you?” Logan shoots back before he can think.

“We do now,” Patton replies sombrely. “I led Roman astray, and I need to make it up to him.”

“You don’t owe him anything,” Janus counters, and it sounds like a conversation they’ve had before.

“That’s not really true,” Patton shakes his head, voice suddenly thick with emotion. “Jan, we both owe Roman something. An apology. He apologised to us, and we can’t even return the favour? We aren’t blameless.”

Patton drops his chin.

“I’m not blameless,” he repeats, and he brushes the hair that oh-so-wants to fall over Roman’s forehead back once more.

He is quiet.

Logan turns back to Janus, who is shaking his head silently.

“Do you really think,” Logan whispers, in awe – but not in a good way – “that you are faultless here? You think you have nothing to apologise for?”

His voice is rising again. He can’t help it.

Janus doesn’t reply, but he looks away, and that’s answer enough for Logan, who’s flushing with the audacity of this bitch.

“I can’t believe you,” he hisses. “I can’t believe you! When will you learn that actions have consequences? That if you try to silence someone enough they will bite back? Why can’t you accept that when you beat someone down enough times they will stay down?”

Janus is staring at him, his gaze calculating.

“This is personal, isn’t it?” he asks quietly.

Logan rakes his hands through his hair. “No,” he lies through is teeth, before relenting. “…Actually, you know what? Yes. Yes, it is, Janus.  I do not take kindly to being silenced. And also, as someone who for the past two months has been dedicated to Roman’s recovery, you also made it personal the moment you made him spiral.”

Janus flinches, before his eyes narrow.

“You think you’re so pure?” he spits out. “Do you even know what you did to Remus?”

Logan stares, and his gaze then falls. He hasn’t really thought about it much. Never really considered it. Remus never seemed to be anything other than amiable to him. But now he thinks about it… His heart is in his throat.

“Don’t talk to me about making someone spiral,” Janus hisses.

“I had no idea,” Logan says limply. “I… I am not good with the consequences of my actions. I will strive to reconcile with Remus, if he is willing.”

Janus flinches again. The look on his face shifts into something almost more unhinged. Desperate. “How do you do that?” he demands, clinging to the bannister. “Just… accept you were wrong?”

Logan is wringing his tie.

“With a lot of grief,” he says quietly. “A lot of introspection. A lot of guilt. A lot of anger. And a lot of …practice. I am not perfect, but I am getting better. I am not saying I’ve never made Remus spiral. Or Roman spiral. Or Virgil. Or even Patton, because I know I have. But I want to be better than that.”

He shakes his head, and he’s pacing now.

“I hate being wrong,” he says. “Don’t you understand? Being wrong goes against all that is expected of me.”

He hears a hum of sympathy from Patton.

“But I need to understand when I am, or I’ll never grow. I can’t do that to Thomas, and I can’t do that to all of you. I now realise I’ve hurt Roman many times in the past and I refuse to continue doing so. But I need you to understand what you’ve done, Janus. And I need you to understand that there are things you need to fix.”

“I know that,” Janus says faintly. “I… my life is full of mistakes that I need to fix. I have exactly one stable relationship, and he is avoiding me right now. I know that.”

“Then do something about it,” Logan snaps. “Regret gets nothing done.”

Janus looks at him with wide and tired eyes, and realises that everything Logan has said is raw and real – if the haggard look in Logan’s eyes is anything to go by.

He goes to say more, before the sound chokes him, stops his breath in his throat, and Janus pauses, before his eyes fall on Roman, and he loses his courage, turning on his heel and sweeping away to his room.

Logan watches him go, and tries to unclench his fists.

“Logan?”

He turns slowly on his heel, gaze downturned as his eyes prick with shame as he faces Patton.

“Logan, look at me, hon.”

Logan raises his chin, and the breath rushes out of him like he’s been punched in the stomach as he realises just how soft the look on Patton’s face is.

“You’re right,” Patton says softly. “You’re exceptional, Logan, and you’re observant and kind. Thank you for being there when I wasn’t.”

“I’d do anything for him,” Logan says before he can think about it, and Patton watches the heat rise to Logan’s face, before Patton rolls his shoulders and scrunches his face in concentration.

The sofa shimmers and expands in width with a thought.

“Here,” Patton says softly, extending one arm to Logan, and Logan can’t help but notice how Patton’s hand is shaking. “Come lay down with us, if you want.”

Logan has all but crossed the room before he can think about saying no. He takes Patton’s hand and kicks off his shoes, taking off his and Patton’s glasses and setting them aside, before he finally hesitates.

“It’s alright,” Patton hums, and he gently tugs Logan down. Logan goes easily. He curls up against Patton’s side, face heating up, and loops one of his arms around Roman’s waist.

He shivers as Patton wraps his other arm around him.

“You look tired,” Patton hums, and Logan yawns despite himself. “How’s about you get some sleep, too?”

Logan decides to just nod and close his eyes. He doesn’t have the spoons left to argue.

They all end up falling asleep like that.

---

Roman wakes up surrounded by warmth, and he is pressed flat against someone’s steadily rising-and-falling chest. There is something playing in the background, like the TV. There are arms around him, more than one person’s arms, unless that person has more than two arms.

Janus has more than two arms.

Roman bolts upright, jerked awake by that alarming thought. All he does is jolt Patton and Logan awake too, and they stare up at him blearily as Roman’s heartbeat slows back to its normal tempo, and his face is hot with embarrassment as Logan sits up.

“Hello,” he says softly, and his voice is gravelly from sleep.

Roman has to bite his lip, because it sounds really cute.

“Hi,” Patton also says, and Roman lets him sit up properly, and they all end up in a sort of triangle, facing each other. “…How are you, Roman?”

Roman is fiddling with his sash. He is cold and shivering, and Logan opens his arms and Roman can’t stop himself from crawling towards him and letting Logan wrap him up in a tight embrace.

“Okay,” he says, because he doesn’t feel awful. Well, he sort of does, but… like, he’s certainly felt worse. And his feet are very sore. But he has, again, had worse.

Two pairs of spectacled eyes turn on him, with various disbelieving looks in their eyes.

“What?” Roman sits back, peels Logan’s hands off him because now he’s self-conscious. Logan makes a noise of protest, and reaches for him again, but Roman’s scooted out of the way.

Logan shivers, and wraps his arms around himself instead, mumbling an apology.

“Roman,” Patton says firmly, and both of their eyes are on Morality now as Patton runs his hand through his hair, swallowing hard. “I owe you something.”

“You…?” Roman looks confused. “You don’t owe me anything, Padre.”

“I owe you an apology,” Patton pushes, shaking his head firmly. “You gave me such a beautiful apology the other night, and I just stood there and took it.”

Logan blinks at this information, before turning and looking at Roman with a worried sort of look.

“When did this happen?” he asks.

“It was, like, two in the morning, specs,” Roman shrugs it off as best he can. “I went to go get some water and… they were downstairs. So I, you know, thought I pull a Virgil. Rip the band aid off, and all that. They deserved an apology.”

Logan glances at Patton, and Patton shifts in his seat.

“I don’t know if we did,” Patton counters quietly. “I… plus, it’s not fair of us to take your apology and not offer one back when we’ve also hurt you.”

“It…” Roman goes to say something, but he can’t figure out what, before he shrugs again, and settles on “it doesn’t matter much, Patton. I just want you to be happy.”

Patton recoils, glancing panickedly at Logan, who has turned to Roman and reached out to him again. Roman looks away.

“Please,” Logan says, and his voice is tiny and vulnerable in a way neither of them - Logan’s oldest friends - have heard before. “Please don’t push us away.”

Roman is rooted to the spot, and Patton realises the prince is crying again.

“We love you, Roman,” Logan continues, and Patton’s nodding but he has a funny feeling this admission is a lot more personal than Logan will let on. “And we can’t stand seeing you break yourself like this.”

“I deserve it!” Roman suddenly snaps, and Patton is too stunned to reply but Logan has already moved closer, and he’s taken Roman’s hands in his own.

“You don’t,” Logan says firmly. “You do not deserve this. This is a fact.”

“I didn’t mean to drive you so hard,” Patton pipes up, causing Roman’s head to snap towards him. “I didn’t mean to put the blinkers on, you know? Just angle down on what we thought we knew, about good and bad and stuff. I… I’m shaken up about it, still, and I will be for a long time.”

Patton rubs his throat and looks away. His face is hot with shame but when he does meet Roman’s eyes, they are sympathetic and gleaming.

“And you’re allowed to be shaken by it too,” Patton finishes. “You should be. Everything we know has been altered. It’s not necessarily completely wrong, but… we turned to the wrong page, is all. Got the wrong edition out at the library. We…”

Patton shrugs hopelessly again.

“I get it,” Roman says, and his voice is low and wobbly and he looks like he probably won’t be able to stop crying for a while.

“So what I’m trying to say, Roman,” Patton holds up a shaky finger, “is I’m sorry. Both of our worlds have been turned upside down, and I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t stop to think about you.”

“You have to focus on yourself sometimes,” Roman shrugs. “I don’t blame you.”

“While I realise that Roman’s insinuations with that last statement are self-deprecating,” Logan jumps in, “he’s right. Taking time for yourself is not something one needs to apologise for.”

Patton notices, while Logan is facing him and talking to him, that Roman is looking at Logan’s face, admiring his profile.

Patton sees the little smile on Roman’s lips.

They’ll be good for each other, Patton thinks with satisfaction.

Logan looks back at Roman, to check in with him, and catches that little adoring look before Roman can wipe it away, and he flushes.

“Um,” he says.

“Uh,” Roman stammers.

Patton giggles at them, and swings his legs over the edge of the couch to put his shoes back on.

“C’mon,” he says, “let’s have some lunch! Can we have a picnic?”

He likes the way Roman’s face lights up at the idea.

---

They have a picnic, and everyone is invited. It is a repeat of Logan’s and Roman’s from the other day, the living room transformed into a suitable space.

Everyone is invited, and they’re waiting for the last two to arrive. Remus is loitering at the top of the stairs, talking to someone just out of sight.

“It’s okay, Jan,” Roman hears him coax. “They invited all of us.”

There’s a quiet reply that Roman doesn’t catch, but he has already gone stiff.

“That’s not true,” he hears Remus murmur. “You know that’s not true.”

He doesn’t catch the reply.

“Well, I’m not going without you,” Remus declares. “So either we both come down or we’re chilling in your room today.”

There’s a moment, before Roman watches his brother nod, and go back upstairs. “That’s okay,” Remus murmurs. “That’s okay. Let’s go, alright?”

The four sitting on the floor are watching this, watch them walk away, before they all exchange quiet glances. Patton’s and Logan’s are far more knowing than Roman is probably comfortable with.

“I think… I need to talk to them,” Logan mumbles, and he’s picking at the inside seam of his jeans as he shoots glances at Patton. “I think I made it worse.”

“I think you gave him something important to think about,” Patton shakes his head. “Just like he did you.”

Virgil is glancing around at everyone, thoroughly bewildered. “What the fuck happened,” he demanded, gesturing pointedly at them with his wineglass of Gatorade, “while I was asleep?”

They fill him in.

“Huh,” he says, very quietly, and doesn’t say anything more. In fact, the conversation lulls as Virgil sips at his drink, and the clouded look in his eyes gives them the impression he’s thinking about something that he’d rather not discuss.

Roman shivers, and curls up on himself a little, staring at the blanket beneath them. He’s… he’s certainly set something into motion, here. And he’s not sure whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing. But… well, progress always starts rocky, right?

It does in his experience, at least.

 ---

It takes Logan a day to work up the courage to talk to Janus, and another day to find him. He’s like Roman – very good at being slippery when he wants to. And when he does find him, in Remus’ room, Remus blocks the door with a too-casual lean, and smiles a smile that is all-teeth and all-threat, and Logan bows his head and accepts the terms silently.

“Let him in,” Janus calls, his voice absolutely not wobbling, and Remus steps aside and gestures Logan in, closing the door behind them.

Remus’ room is like Roman’s room, except more of it is black and silver, and there is far more electric green everywhere. But it’s still cosy, and it’s tidier than he expected.

Janus is sitting on the floor, holding a hand of cards. It looks to be Uno, now Logan looks closer, and Remus sidesteps him to take up his place on the floor across from Janus and pick up his own hand of cards, before they both look up at Logan. Asking what he wants.

Janus looks fragile. Remus’ eyes meet his own with a challenge, and Logan immediately feels the dramatic irony of this situation.

After a moment, he sits down on the floor as well, turning their line into a triangle, and shuffles backwards a little to give them enough breathing room.

“If you’re busy,” he says softly, nodding to the card deck, “I can come back another time.”

They aren’t busy. It’s just Uno. But Logan is offering Janus a choice here – the choice to do this now, to do this at all.

Janus purses his lips, thinking for a moment. Then he takes seven cards from the pile, face-down, and slides them towards Logan.

“No,” he says, “we’re not busy.”

And thus begins the most emotionally charged game of Uno Logan has ever experienced. But after a few rounds, it becomes clear they are waiting for him to start with what he has come here for.

“I…” he begins, and immediately cringes as he fumbles for what to actually say, crucially aware they are both staring at him now. “Um, oh, fuck, this isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

And the soft swear from him gets a snicker out of Remus, and that’s enough to sort-of break the ice, and Logan smiles even as he rubs his temple. “Just, let me get my thoughts in order.”

And then Janus places a reverse card, and Logan takes a moment to make an indignant noise that makes Janus laugh too, before returning to trying to figure out what to say.

He sets his cards down (face down) as Remus plays his next card, and they turn to him, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

“Um,” he starts again. “I… I have a mental checklist, and I’m going to run down it. Forgive me if this is crude or impersonal.”

He takes a steadying breath in, and out, and turns to Remus.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and watches Remus blink in surprise.

“What for?” the duke hazards, cautious, but his eyes are surprisingly bright.

“For…” Logan trails off, rubs his forehead, before sighing and forging on. “For… how I treated you, your whole introductory episode.”

Remus freezes, like that was not what he expected Logan to say.

“I have been informed there were some… undesired consequences of my actions towards you, and I never intended nor wished to hurt you. In fact, as I have grown to know you more, I can only respect you,” Logan continued, stealing glances at Remus to check he was still listening.

Yes, he has Remus’ whole attention now. Those intense eyes are boring into his, growing brighter by the second, and then Remus pushes a hand to his mouth as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. The saltwater leaking down his cheeks does not obey his wishes.

Logan starts to reach out to him, before he catches himself, knowing that this isn’t his place.

“That’s what I’m sorry for,” he finishes lamely. “I’d go as far to call you my friend, Remus, and I cannot stand the fact that I have clearly done something to hurt you, and never rectified that.”

“I accept,” Remus whispers. “I accept your apology. Thank you. I… I’ll be frank, I just assumed you secretly hated me.”

“I do not,” Logan immediately counters, shaking his head imploringly. “I really do not hate you.”

Remus lets his hand fall from his mouth – to reveal he’s smiling.

“I’d say I’m sorry for throwing shurikens at you,” he banters, “but I’m really not. That was fun.”

Logan snorts. “Fun’s certainly a word for it,” he agrees, pointedly rubbing his head where they had once been lodged. Sometimes, he gets headaches – pain flaring up from those old and non-existent wounds, and it doesn’t make sense but he has no choice but to live through it. And besides, it’s a small price to pay for getting back onto even ground with Remus.

And now that he has found that even ground with Remus…

Logan turns to Janus, and bites his lip.

Janus is watching him very closely. And Logan realises he’s looking for dishonesty. Looking for any proof that Logan is playing with them. But Logan doesn’t like to think he could be that cruel.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, and personally, he is amazed at how quickly tears have sprung to his eyes, though they haven’t leaked over yet – and he can see how Janus all but flinches at how raw Logan’s voice is.

This is good. This shows Janus that Logan’s being genuine. Because Logan isn’t a good actor, and they both know it. And Logan is trusting them with a lot right now – with his real, genuine emotions, and those are things he’d rather take to his grave if he could.

But it’s important to be genuine, so genuine he shall be.

“I will not deny that I meant a lot of what I said,” he continues, taking off his glasses so he can rub his eyes as subtly as possible, “but the insults were fuelled by my own frustration, and were not only uncalled for, but… bloated, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Janus nods, and when Logan dares to meet his eyes, Janus also seems on the brink of tears – fragile indeed – but is offering him a surprisingly understanding smile. “I think… it might be a safe statement to make that I was also fuelled by frustration.”

“It’s easy to take sides,” Logan agrees, putting his glasses back on. “But I think it’s the last thing any of us need. And …Patton and Roman have made up, it seems.”

“That’s… good,” Janus murmurs, and his gaze falls back down to his cards. “That’s good.”

His tone makes Logan think that maybe Janus doesn’t actually believe that. But he doesn’t push. He just picks up his cards and puts one down.

Maybe there’s more to say. Logan isn’t sure if he’s said enough. But this is where Janus wants to end it, so Logan will not drag it out any further.

God, he doesn’t know how much more emotional shit he can take. It’s exhausting.

 ---

The next movie night, Roman shows up first and constructs his pillowed throne, and is lounging when Virgil and Logan arrive. He’s comfortable, he’s in his element, and he’s ready for anything.

Janus walks downstairs.

Okay, he’s ready for most things. This is perhaps one of the few things that he would have to admit that he did not consider himself ‘ready’ for.

But…

But…

Well, it’s probably overdue, right? If Roman can’t learn to play nice, then they’ll never be able to pick up the pieces for Thomas – and that’s what it’s all about, in the end. And Roman… Roman has been selfish for too long.

(is selfish bad? It always felt like a loaded term and now he doesn’t know what to think about it)

Janus is not in his usual attire. In fact, he almost looks less comfortable, despite the comfort clothes he’s wearing. And Roman can’t help but stare – because he’s wearing pyjamas, of all things. A plain yellow sleep shirt and a pair of black linen trousers, and as he draws closer Roman can see the yellow plaid on them.

Janus clears his throat. “I apologise,” he rubs his arm, not really looking Roman in the eye, but not really looking away. “I don’t… I don’t do onesies.”

It’s okay, because Roman’s also just in normal pyjamas and not in a onesie either, but… Janus has made a clear effort, and it’s… it’s a nice effort.

Roman scrambles to his feet before he realises it, like a host greeting his guests. Logan and Virgil are on the sofa, and their conversation fell silent the moment Janus walked in, but they don’t seem too concerned. Maybe they didn’t expect this to be as civil as it is. Roman doesn’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.

“That’s alright,” he manages to force out, because the silence is getting a little long and they’re all looking at him for a response. “That’s… thank you for coming. Thank you for… yeah.”

Wow. Real eloquent, Roman.

But Janus smiles, and it’s a nice and genuine smile and one Roman never expected to receive, and for the first time in a very long time there’s a flicker of hope in his chest that things might even work out.

Everyone trickles in, and Janus ends up sitting on the end of the sofa, beside Roman’s pillow throne. And he lounges there, elbow on the armrest, and they spend the evening slowly warming up to each other. By the end of the night, they are throwing barbs and references and jokes like no-one’s business, and when Janus stands up and leaves when it’s all over, Roman is crying before he knows it (just a little, it’s not like he’s sobbing, he’s just a touch overwhelmed).

But whatever noise he makes must be enough to reach Janus, because he snaps back around with wide eyes.

“Did… did I offend you?” he asks, his voice thin, and he looks genuinely afraid.

“No!” Roman is quick to drag the back of his wrist over his face and smile. “I just… I didn’t expect this to work. I’m glad it has, don’t get me wrong! I just… didn’t expect it.”

And Janus smiles again, and nods, and Roman knows he understands, and says nothing more. Well, nothing other than,

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Janus holds his gaze for a beat, a beat long enough to see the tension bleed out of the prince.

“Goodnight, Janus,” he replies, infusing Janus’ name with all the thanks he can, hoping it’s enough. “Sweet dreams.”

Janus leaves, not one to drag conversations out, it seems, but he sees the little hop he does at the top of the stairs, where he thinks Roman can’t see him, and Roman screams into his hands for a moment to gather himself.

 ---

Thomas is hesitant to bring up Roman and Janus in the same sentence next meeting, but they show up, they are civil, and they even stand next to each other.

And Roman cracks a grin at Thomas’ bewilderment, and when he shoots Janus a glance, it widens as he sees a similar look on his face too.

“Let’s say,” he addresses Thomas’ careful question, “that we’ve done some… backstage work. We can work together. Especially for you.”

“I second that,” Janus nods. “We all have. Don’t worry about us.”

And Janus nudges Roman with his elbow, making Roman snort, but he still can’t help but rub the spot of contact as it burns delightfully.

His touch starvation has gotten better, especially with Logan helping him, but it certainly isn’t gone. And he can’t help but be ashamed, at times, of being that way and needing the help he needs, and sometimes it’s easier to hide away.

The thing is – now he doesn’t get away with it. It’s annoying, at times. But on the whole, it’s refreshing. Thomas eyes the two of them, searching for anything amiss, but Roman gives him a smile. A whole smile. A genuine smile. A smile he had fallen out of the habit of giving.

And Thomas sees. And Thomas beams back. And in that look, Roman can almost hear him saying welcome back, welcome home, I missed you.

He missed him too. So very much.

“Now,” he declares, clapping his hands together and twisting his smile into something more mischievous, “what’s the plan, ocean man? What do you need us for?”

“Well,” Thomas draws out, before pulling out a notebook and spreading it out on the coffee table, “I’m been roped in to help with a function, and I need you guys’ opinions.”

With a fluid movement, Janus sinks down to sit beside Thomas on the floor on one side, and Roman moves to the other, and the focus shifts into work mode without a second of arguing.

By god, Roman missed this.

 ---

A couple weeks later, it almost feels like loose ends have been tied up. Well, all but one. Because now Logan’s being flighty, and Roman’s going through the motions of being frustrated and terrified that he’s upset him – and that now he’s going to lose him.

But it’s about lunchtime when Logan knocks on his door, and when he opens it, Logan has a picnic basket tucked into the crook of his arm and a well-hidden look of apprehension on his face.

“Greetings, Roman,” he says formally, and Logan only gets extra formal when he’s nervous. “I was wondering if you were busy.”

Roman is in the middle of something, he won’t lie, but one look at Logan’s face, and the basket, and his plans are out the window in a heartbeat.

“I’m not busy,” Roman folds his arms, cocks his hips, smiles, and notices that Logan swallows hard. “Why, what’s up?”

“I, uh,” Logan fumbles, and he adjusts his tie, “would… I was wondering, well, that, um. Would you join me for lunch?”

Oh, he’s cute when he’s flustered. And Roman takes that thought and shoves it down, hoping it doesn’t colour his cheeks, and smiles warmly.

“I’d love to.”

“Great.” Logan turns on his heel, and offers Roman his arm. Roman stares for a moment, before taking it and closing his bedroom door behind him, letting Logan lead him onwards.

They don’t go to the living room, like he expects, but Logan actually leads him to the Imagination, and the Imagination is active, and the scene is a beautiful little park with a fresh breeze ruffling soft grass and a blue sky that goes on forever, and it’s the most picturesque thing Roman’s ever seen.

Logan leads him over to a picnic blanket, already set up good to go, and helps Roman get seated, even though he really doesn’t need to, and Roman’s chuckling a little at him as Logan fusses, before setting down the basket and quickly unpacking with strangely practiced motions.

It’s pleasant. It’s extremely pleasant. Roman’s having a wonderful time. Patton and Virgil must’ve helped with the food because it’s very good. Logan brought a book of sonnets and they pass it back and forth, reading their favourites, and Roman can’t help but compare Logan to a summer’s day at this rate, with how his smile is bright and his eyes shine with life, and the radiant way he watches Roman speak.

Roman has never felt so loved in his life. He wonders if he looks as moonstruck as he feels.

Logan finishes his last sonnet, letting the words ring in the air, before setting the book down slowly. It falls closed in Logan’s lap, and Logan stares down at it, like he’s waiting for something, and Roman lets himself fall still as he waits as well.

Logan closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, and reaches into the basket one last time.

And this time, he pulls out an impossibly huge bouquet of red roses, and he hands it straight to Roman.

Roman takes it with shaking hands, admiring them with wide eyes. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers, trying for the life of him to think of something more to add but he can’t help but be stunned.

“I…” Logan rubs the back of his neck. “Red roses… are, in the language of flowers, associated with romantic love.”

Roman’s grip on the bouquet tightens. “They are,” he agrees loosely, heart in his throat.

“And,” Logan forges on, “they are my gift to you. A-and those… those statements are related.”

Roman is staring. He can’t help it. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for him and also the most Logan thing he’s ever heard, and he’s extremely impressed that these two categories have actually crossed over in this way.

“Me?”

He doesn’t realise he’s spoken til the word leaves his lips.

Logan looks at him, looks at him with pure fondness that stops doubt dead in its tracks.

“You,” he confirms. “How could it be anyone else?”

Roman looks down at the bouquet in his hands, and suddenly his eyes are burning with unshed tears.

When he doesn’t reply, Logan quietly speaks again. “…I understand if this is unexpected, and you need to think on it, or too soon, or… unwanted.”

And Roman realises his silence has been taken the wrong way, and he sets the bouquet down with the utmost of care, before getting up on his knees and pulling Logan into a tight, tight hug.

“It’s a surprise to be sure,” he shakes his head, words pressed into Logan’s shoulder, “but I assure you it is a welcome one.”

“Did you just Prequel-meme during my love confession?”

Roman snorts. He can’t help it. And he can’t keep it to one snort, either, and before he knows it he’s all but cackling into Logan’s chest, before he looks up with all the fondness he can muster.

“I might have,” he says. “Will my sins be forgiven with a kiss?”

Logan’s breath stops, and he looks like Roman’s just stunned him with a fish to the face. But the shock quickly breaks – breaks into a beautiful joy that lights up his eyes and that Roman just adores.

“You… absolutely,” he agrees. He sounds breathless, like he didn’t think he’d get this far. “At least one kiss will be enough, I think.”

Roman slips his arms around Logan and pulls him in close. “I’ll pay your toll, though you drive a hard bargain,” he jokes, and leans in.

Logan kisses him sweetly. It’s perfect except it’s far too short for Roman’s liking, but Logan pulls back to study his face, trying to commit this moment to memory. And how could Roman deny him that? Not when the weather’s so beautiful, the breeze is so gentle, and Logan’s hands are on the small of his back so warm and steady, and he can feel the rise and fall of Logan’s chest and know that they are here and are together and everything’s alright.

“Is this okay?” he asks, because despite himself he can’t help but wonder if he’s enough for Logan, but Logan gives him another quick peck that is more smile than kiss.

“It’s adequate,” he banters, that gleam of life in his eye. “But there’s only one thing that’d make it better, I think.”

“Oh, I know,” Roman smirks, before in a flurry of movement, he has Logan ‘pinned’ by the wrists on the picnic blanket. “More kisses. You think you’re going to end this anytime soon? I’m not letting you go for at least another hour.”

“Only an hour?” Logan smirks back. “I have three set aside just in case.”

“I think we’ll manage,” Roman rolls his eyes fondly as he dips down to kiss him again.

They spend the afternoon like that, giving each other little moments of sweetness and pressing silent thank-yous again and again into each other’s skin. Roman is no fool. Logan probably saved him, not that Logan would see it that way.

And Roman wouldn’t know it, but Logan feels the same way.

Patton is right. They’re good for each other.

And for once, it’s finally the start of something good.

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

<|:) howdy guys hope that fic was as banging as i think it is. gonna tag some people who expressed interest (AKA interacted with the posts i made about this) for this lmao <3

@ironwoman359 @larkiaquail @ab-artist @treeni @i-really-like-dragons

and a some friends/people who mentioned a ‘general taglist’ might be a good idea :) @broadwaytheanimatedseries @leiasolo77 @merlybird500 @madamedraconis @witchesgetstitchesblog @quackerz-creations

anyway uhhh have a good night/day

[warnadudenexttime]

Ok so swap aus, love them whole lot!!

Like personality swaps are interesting but the thing that gives sanders sides an edge to swap aus is the idea of the sides swapping traits!

Obvs dark side light side swaps are neat as well but that’s a whole other discussion so

Because I am a hoe for my ships ( that being moceit, analogical, Platonic/brotherly creativitwins ) let’s start off with the concept of

Logan - anxiety

Virgil - logic

Patton - deception

Janus - morality

Remus - light creativity

Roman - dark creativity

Now it’s important to note that listen you rarely see this type of swap, I’ve never seen it atleast??

It’s mostly logicality prinxiety swaps and I get the appeal they’re opposites, so it causes conflict, Same with Logince and moxiety is also a common swap

However!! I do have some ideas :D it’s not a fully fleshed out idea but still a concept!!

Commonly enough when people switch traits for the sides they honestly dont keep a lot of what that side was. For example patton is a hyper, kind hearted sad dad when anxiety he just loses that and just acts like a droopy Virgil yk yk?

So we are gonna try and preserve those personalities without making them not fit for the trait entirely, meaning we may have to exaggerate some details about them

For example:

Canonly, Patton can sometimes be manipulative so we may have to heighten that up a bit, stuff like that

So back on topic

I think we should still keep C!thomas the same, atleast in the beginning of me writing this, we work around the idea of him staying the same as canon and from there we can change him as needed

—————

Logan as anxiety

- a bit more confident as hes listened too more than logic!logan sadly enough

- I’d say hes a lot more open about his more negative emotions, while he does try and to still not show them his anger does slip out a bit much whenever he feels like his points are gonna get thomas killed, lmao insert tempest tongue falsehood joke here

- he’d have the look more that of a tired professor

- wrinkled black button up, he’d have a purple tie. Instead of just like makeup eye shadow, he’d have actual eye bags

- probably kept C!thomas up through many college and school nights for studying

- is always anxious YouTube is gonna fail and regrets not putting up more effort for Thomas to go into his chemical engineering degree

- obvs cause I’m an analogical hoe I’ll sneak this in, Logan really does like virgil as virgil too values thomas’ education and just kinda sits there while Logan angrily rants every single possibility of what could go wrong today

- “and there’s a highly probable statistic that we could end up dying participating in this activity! 75%, virgil!!”

- I think when overwhelmed with his mind racing through probabilities he’d end up messing with or loosening his tie, cleaning his glasses a lot, or chewing on the end of his sleeves

- I think he accidentally blurts out a lot of words especially when he’s trying to hold in his anger, like “THATS A BAD IDEA” then slaps his hands over his mouth and just kinda says, “apologies... I need to stop my sudden outbursts as they’re becoming a frequent problem” and hey the outbursts getting even more worse and uncontrollable could lead to Logan doing an ol duck like in AA

—————

patton as deception

- I think I myself would love a dark side who comes in sickeningly sweet but has “darker” intentions I suppose?

- I think Janus wouldn’t like Patton in the start because he knows how easily manipulated C!thomas can be and to see a seemingly innocent dad try and push some morals on you, he’s cautious

- so Patton when he first appears doesn’t hide himself like Janus did behind a disguise... well sort of?

- he comes in dressed as his outfit in the series, maybe throughout the whole time he’s redirecting the conversation in his favor so no one reveals him, which we’ve seen canon Patton do a good job of being able to distract the sides from fighting so we can say he has that ability himself as well

- maybe like Janus he can stop people from saying words he doesn’t want thomas to know, or well thomas himself doesn’t wanna know

- but instead of the obvious slams hand over mouth it’s more like, Virgil speaks up saying “Thomas, It would probably help you to know that, Patton isn’t exactly-“ and maybe either he tries to finish his sentence and can’t speak, he just lets out air instead of a noise. Or forgets what he was talking about all together, another form of misdirection?

- patton’s whole thing is he came up here, dressed in his lil innocent dad outfit, being sweet as all hell “kiddo, I heard about a certain show you messed of Joan’s? Now we don’t joan hating us do we? We love Joan to death and we wouldn’t wanna hurt them! Can you imagine the look on their face?” Which Janus just says, “are you asking him to lie? You and I both have the understanding that Joan hates being lied to.”

- patton’s like “ehhh I know, but I think saving the relationship is more important! We don’t know if telling the truth could end up hurting Joan more then just a small fib?”

- so blah blah Patton is revealed

- his cardigan is back to his cat hoodie which is the black variety, instead maybe tied around his waist? He could have fingerless gloves that kinda look like cat

- paws? Like, he’s the unlucky black cat. He doesn’t have snake makeup but maybe he has sharps canines/fangs like cats do. And maybe we could keep the polo just make it yellow? Not sure though, but I do wanna have his lil logo go from just a blue heart when first shown to a yellow one with it like, being broken with a claw mark, like someone tore through it

- and why he chose to come in blue in the first place maybe he wanted to show thomas he was similar to Janus or maybe he has a crush on Janus? 👀👀 who’s to say

- but he’s revealed and just ahHhwhaj OH NO THE CAT PUNS, “apawogies Thomas for deceiving you a bit there, I was just trying to help make sure joan is feline good in the end! I do think you should really reconsider- meow I better get on my way then ol’ creativity needs some pasta. Keep my ideas in mind kiddo!” Then leaves lmao

- and that could be a solid set up for Thomas to be like- wait is there two creativities? Yk yk

- I do have some ideas for how svs and svs redux could go but yeah

- overall Janus, not really that known for having an animal trait as much as Patton and Roman but Janus could turn into a snake for svs redux-

I’m getting a head of myself lol

- point is, lmao- Patton’s animal trait is a cat

- he’s still kind? He can be a bit more pushy then canon Patton. But his first method is always just a gentle nudge and, “oh come on kiddo, I think your father would probably agree with me on this one”

- he’s not so much for thomas’ self  preservation as more so he pushes thomas to help his friends and because he wants to make sure thomas looks good enough for them so they’ll stay he ends up pushing for lying

I have some more ideas for the other sides as well but just wanted to see what some thoughts are before I keep on developing this :D

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

The Quiet Game

Summary: When Patton comes to visit Janus, the twins play a game called the quiet game.

Pairings: Parental Janus, brotherly creativitwins (tag it as Rem/Rom and you’re blocked), past Moceit

CW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE, IMPLIED ABUSE, UNSYMPATHETIC!PATTON, MENTIONS OF DIVORCE, IMPLIED DIVORCE, YELLING.

(A/N: it’s ya bean. I haven’t written anything in a while. Sorry for any typos XD)

“Take that you foul Dukey!”

“You’ll never defeat me, Princey!”

Janus chuckles and watches his twins fondly. They’re only 8 but they’ve been through...a lot. It’s hard to see one without the other. Then again, Janus could never bring himself to separate them. Not even for a few moments. One would get upset and the other would cry. It’s quite heartbreaking to see one so broken without the other. Janus had fought hard to get them both away from their old home. And away from the monster that lived in it. He couldn’t bear to leave one. Not with...him. It’s been two years now since Janus left Patton. Since he took custody of the kids. It didn’t mean they were finally free though. Let’s just say Patton really misses his kiddos.

“Papa...Papa!”

Janus blinks out of his thoughts to see Roman staring up at him with wide curious eyes, his twin standing behind him and mirroring him. 

“Sorry, little prince. I was just thinking about something. Did you need something?” he asks, patting their heads.

“Yeah! Can you be the princess again? We need a damsel in distress!” Roman replies, holding up his plastic sword.

Janus sighs and smiles softly.

“I would love to, Roman, but Papa has to clean up around the house.” he says, ruffling their hair now.

The twins pouted.

“Aww, but we want you to play with us!” Remus whines.

“Yeah, Papa! You’ve been cleaning all day!” Roman chimes in.

Janus chuckles softly. Oh he just can’t resist his twins’ playfulness. 

“Alright but you have to pick up your toys first and bring them upstairs. All of them.” he says, gesturing to the living room where all the toys were scattered.

The twins lit up at that and nodded.

“Okay, Papa!” 

With that, the two ran off to go get started on grabbing their toys.

Meanwhile Janus smiles softly again and turns to continue cleaning, grabbing the broom he had set aside. While the twins put their toys away, Janus finished sweeping the living area and moved onto the kitchen. He dumped the dirt and dust into the kitchen trash can then he set aside the broom again. He grabbed the trash bag out of the trash can and headed for the front door. 

He stepped out of the little house he and the twins call home, making his way down the pathway. He dumped the trash in the big trash bin. Just as he shuts the lid, Janus hears the faint sound of a car coming from somewhere. He glances up and sees a familiar sky blue beetle car coming into view in the distance. 

Oh no.

Janus quickly returns to the house, shutting the door behind him. He heads to the living room and sees that it’s spotless. Huh. That was fast. Shaking his head, he looks over to see the twins running down the stairs with an eager look in their eyes. Janus hates to ruin this but...it was for their own safety. He comes over as the two reach the foot of the stairs.

“I’m glad you put your toys away, boys. I know you wanted me to play with you but we’re gonna have to do that later.” he says.

Roman tilts head and Remus pouts.

“But why, Papa?” Roman asks.

Janus looks over to the door then back to the twins.

“We’re gonna play the Quiet Game. You remember how to play?” he says.

The twins nod, a look in their eyes that hurts Janus to see. It just looks so wrong to see them so afraid like this. Like they would lose each other. The twins immediately cling to each other. They don’t like this game but Papa says it’s to keep the monster away so they play it. Anything to make the monster go away.

“We hide upstairs and we stay very quiet so the monster doesn’t find us. And then you come rescue us, Papa.” Roman recites.

Like Roman had said, whenever Patton or the ‘monster’ comes over, they have to hide upstairs in their bedroom and stay quiet until the ‘monster’ leaves or Janus says it safe.

Janus nods, giving them a small smile. 

“That’s right, little prince. And you also keep each other safe.” he says, getting two nods in return.

Janus glances at the door again before turning back to his twins.

“Okay, the monster is here. Go hide!” 

The twins nod and run upstairs hand in hand as Janus sighs. He hates this game as much as they do but it was for their own good. He hears their bedroom door click shut and he takes a deep breath. Then he heads over to the door. He nearly flinches as he suddenly hears a knock. Janus composes himself then opens the door.

“Oh, Janus! It’s so good to see you again!” 

There stands Patton. Patton and Janus had been husbands. Had. Ever since the twins came around from the adoption center, Patton had changed. It started at the Adoption Center itself when Patton only wanted Roman and not Remus. The worker there had told him they refused to be separate and had to be adopted together or not all. Patton tried to talk the worker into letting him take only Roman but the worker said no. That’s when Janus stepped in and convinced Patton to take them both.

When the twins were brought home, Patton mostly gave his attention to Roman. Janus was left to take care of Remus. The twins were only four then and life was already hell for them. As the months passed, Patton pulled Roman further and further away from Remus. He tried to raise Roman as the perfect kid while neglecting Remus more and more. Janus did his best to take care of Remus, sneaking him over to Roman when Patton was away. As even more time went on, Janus saw more and more of Patton’s true colors. It wasn’t long before their first fight which led to more and more fights. The twins could only watch on. Then one day, when Janus left for work and had Patton watch the twins, he came home to find Roman sitting alone on the couch.

It was late when Janus came home. He shuts the door behind him and blinks when he looks up and sees Roman alone on the couch, the poor boy’s face stained with tears.

“Roman?” Janus calls.

Roman flinches and it concerns Janus.

“O-Oh, welcome home, Papa.” he greets, a faint sad smile on his face.

Janus gets his shoes and coat off before joining Roman. Oh dear. He’s trembling.

“Where’s your dad?” he asks.

Roman shifts and hesitates before answering.

“At the neighbor’s...They told dad they heard screaming and wanted to check but dad said they should talk outside…” he mumbles.

Janus frowns at that. Has Patton always lied to the neighbors? Patton hates lying. 

“And where is your brother?” he asks next.

Roman freezes at that and more tears slip out, his shoulders trembling.

“I-I don’t know...I-I...d-don’t know...I don’t know!” he chokes, hands balling into fists.

Janus frowns even more. What the hell did Patton do this time?

“Shh, it’s alright, Roman. We’ll find him. Do you know what your dad did with Remus?”

Roman hesitates again, looking around as if Patton were watching.

Janus notices and gently takes his hands, squeezing them both gently.

“Go on, little prince. You can tell Papa.” he soothes.

Roman sniffles, looking around again before answering again.

“D-Dad dragged him away...S-Said he was a bad twin and deserved nothing...I-I don’t know where dad put him but he said Remus deserves to be locked up…” he admits. 

Janus nods, anger boiling inside him. His sweet husband had become a monster. That was the final straw. He takes a deep breath and pulls Roman close.

“Don’t worry, my little hero. We’ll find your brother.”

After searching around and finding scratch marks in the hall, Janus found Remus in the basement and the twins were reunited. Roman and Remus broke down by then and told them how mean and awful Patton was. Patton had locked Remus away and left him there so he ‘wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore’ and focused on Roman. The screaming was Remus trying and failing to fight back. It angered Janus, seeing how Patton only cared for having the perfect child. 

When Patton returned, Janus confronted him and said he was filing for divorce. He was also taking the twins. After a month of arguing and appearing in court, Janus won custody which of course upset Patton. Janus then moved out with the twins and into a new home. Of course, it didn’t stop Patton from coming over now and then to see them. So Janus did what he could to protect the twins while he started looking for a place further away to move to. And possibly a restraining order on Patton as well. They haven’t had much luck on either of those goals but Janus hasn’t given up.

And now here he was again, dealing with Patton once more.

“Patton. It’s...nice to see you.” Janus says, a small but fake smile on his lips.

Patton grins.

“Aww, I missed you too, Janus! May I come in? Your home looks lovely!” he says, trying to act like he was still all sunshine and rainbows.

Janus rolls his eyes but lets Patton in, leading him to the living room. They sit in the living room.

“So, what brings you here again?” Janus asks.

Patton giggles.

“Can’t this dear old dad visit his old family?” he grins.

Janus holds back a growl and the urge to roll his eyes. Part of him wishes he broke out the wine before answering the door. 

“No. I thought I made it clear the last several times that you leave me and the twins alone.” he hisses.

Patton shifts, smiling awkwardly now like he still thinks he’s sweet.

“Oh come on, Jan. Let me see them! I miss my kiddos!”

“They’re not your kids anymore. You signed the papers.” Janus replies.

Patton glances up the stairs.

“I know but...can’t I at least visit? Or even say hi? I miss them!” he frowns, taking a step forward.

Janus quickly blocks Patton. They’re far from the stairs but Patton could try to bolt past him out of sheer ‘worry’ and get to them. Janus was not letting that happen. 

“Miss them or miss Roman?” Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“I miss them both!” Patton says, eyes wide and like he thinks he’s a cute puppy. 

Janus snaps.

“Lies!”

And the fighting starts up again, Patton arguing back about what he said followed by Janus hissing about his neglectful abuse. 

Meanwhile…

The twins had sat on their shared bed, holding each other close as they listened to their Papa arguing downstairs with da- with the monster. Remus whimpers, clinging to his older brother, tiny hands clutching onto the faded red disney tee. Roman hugs Remus and tries his best to comfort him.

“It’s okay, Ree. Papa’s gonna make the monster go away. I know it.” he assures his twin, trying to stay calm and brave for his twin.

Remus nods, eyes glassy and threatening to tear up.

“I hope so....I don’t like the monster. He’s gonna lock me up again.” he whispers. 

“No. He won’t. I’m not letting him take you away again.” Roman says determinedly now, holding his brother tighter. 

Remus only nods again in return as the yelling continues. He never did like getting yelled at. It was loud and scary. Like thunder. He hopes the yelling stops soon. Despite him and his brother being in the safety of their bedroom, it was still loud. Almost too loud. The monster was very loud, roaring over and over and over. It made Remus whimper again and tremble, hiding his face. 

“You okay, Ree?” Roman asks, hearing his twin whimper.

“T-Too loud.” Remus replies.

Roman hums and looks around before seeing their closet, left open and big enough to hide in. Funnily enough, the twins aren’t afraid of the closet monsters. They fear the one downstairs even more. Especially since he’s real. To them, the closet is a land they call the Imagination. And they were going there now to escape until the monster is gone and they can stop playing the Quiet Game. Roman takes Remus’ hand, grabbing his twin’s favorite stuffed octopus too for extra comfort before leading Remus towards the closet. He lets Remus in first then follows and shuts the door, leaving a tiny crack open just in case.

“Better?” Roman asks, giving Remus his octopus.

Remus relaxes a bit and nods.

“Yeah. Thank’s RoRo.” he replies, clutching onto his octopus friend.

The two cling to each other again, Roman watching through the crack in the door for Papa or the monster. So far he can hear the yelling which is more faint now with them both being in the closet. He hopes Papa is okay. Roman recalls him being upset whenever the monster fought with him. Poor Papa. 

Then, as Roman continues to watch, he hears Papa and the monster’s voices getting louder followed by footsteps. Roman feels his heart pound. The monster is coming. Unsure of what else to do, he shuts the closet door and pulls Remus close. His twin squeaks and clings to him. The yelling picks up.

“I told you to leave, Patton!”

“Not until I see my kiddos!”

“They’re not your kiddos! Leave them alone!”

“I’m taking them! They’re mine!”

“No, they aren’t!”

“Get out of my way, Janus!”

“You’re not taking MY kids!”

“I am! You can’t stop me!”

“No, but a restraining order will! Get out of my house!”

“But-”

“Out!”

Then it goes dead silent before more talking is heard. It’s quiet and muffled now. Footsteps are heard but they’re slower now.

Meanwhile…

Janus sighs and watches as Patton finally leaves the house. He sighs in relief, shutting the door and locking it. The monster is gone. At least for now. After giving himself a moment to calm down, Janus turns and heads upstairs to check on the twins. He opens their bedroom door to find it...empty? He looks around, worried for a moment when he hears a muffled voice from the closet. Sighing in relief, Janus makes his way towards the closet and knocks gently.

“Boys? It’s Papa.”

It’s silent for a moment then the closet door creaks open a bit, a wary green eye peeking through. Janus gives a soft gentle smile, assuring Roman it’s him. 

“Papa!”

The door then slides open fully and the twins scramble out and into Janus’ arms, sending them all to the floor. He’s glad his twins are safe and okay. The monster failed to lay its hands on them again.

“It’s alright. I’m here now. What were you doing in the closet, my little royals?” Janus asks, holding them both.

“Ree said it was too loud so we hid in the closet. When we heard footsteps and louder yelling, I shut the door. Just in case. I’m sorry if we broke any rules, Papa.” Roman explains.

Janus shakes his head and smiles softly, squeezing both his twins comfortingly.

“You didn’t break any rules. I’m glad you protected your little brother. Hopefully we never have to play the quiet game ever again but for today, you and Remus were brave.” he says.

Sure, they’re only eight and have been through four years of hell but he knows his boys are getting stronger and stronger each day. He knows they’ll make it to a much safer place than here. Someday. For now, he’ll have to keep them safe for as long as he can.

“You were brave too, Papa! You fought the monster away!” Remus adds, smiling now. 

Janus huffs a laugh, ruffling the twins’ hair.

“Of course. I have to protect my prince.” he boops Roman’s nose and then Remus’ “And my duke. I love you very much.”

The twins giggle, beaming again. A sight Janus will fight to keep on their faces for as long as they all live.

“We love you too, Papa!”