#he's probably still oblivious despite one being his hot pilot boyfriend

[prinanalogicality]

So heres a thought/prompt based on the song doubt by 21 pilots. Anxiety doubts that prince couldn't love someone like him. So, he tries to push prince away. They leave each others presence. Anxiety has an angst session alone. Prince finds out what Anxiety is trying to do (maybe through morality), and goes back and it can either end in fluff or bittersweet angst. idk. Just a suggestion.

Title: Doubt

Creative title, wow. Anyway, thank you so much for the idea anon! I love it when people send me ideas. I live for angst, so let’s get going, shall we? Also, twenty one pilots is one of my favorite bands, so yes yes yes I will write this, I will cry, and I will be pleased.

Check the tags below for trigger warnings.

AO3 link here.

Pairing: Prinxiety. This will be angsty. If you do not like reading angsty themed things, I suggest you steer clear, my dudes.

Anxiety looks at his reflection in the mirror, a firm frown set on his lips. The bags under his eyes have gotten so dark that he hardly needs the eyeshadow anymore, yet he puts it on to keep anyone from seeing that there is a real problem. It is about 3 a.m., and despite that, Anxiety hasn’t had a wink of sleep. Roman is still in bed, Anxiety’s bed, sleeping soundly, oblivious to the fact that his boyfriend is still awake. Anxiety swears that Roman seems to relax and sleep more soundly when he isn’t in the bed with him.

Running a hand through his messy, tangled fringe, Anxiety breathes out a huff and turns away from the mirror in favor of leaning against the sink, locked away in the bathroom. He can hardly face the royal anymore. Every kiss, every hug, every look, every smile. It all feels like lies. There is no way Roman genuinely loves Anxiety. In the beginning of their relationship, they were very active with their intimacy, but the last time they were even remotely intimate was three weeks ago. Roman must be losing his interest in the relationship. They’ve been together for almost nine months now, well past the mark where a relationship is still considered new and fresh. The novelty is fading. It is time for Roman to find a new conquest.

Anxiety feels a burning behind his eyes and curses, curling his fingers into fists, nails biting into his palms and banging the side of the counter as he makes the conscious effort to keep back tears. He refuses to cry over this. He should have known from the start that what he had with Roman was expendable. It wasn’t meant to last. Nothing ever is, except maybe the negativity that is ingrained into Anxiety’s very being. This is what he is, he is an embodiment of negativity that gives negativity and nothing but.

The sound of light footsteps and a quiet knock on the door makes his blood run cold, in which he chews on his lower lip, weighing out what he should do. He knew he cursed too loud, he must have woken someone up- more than likely Morality. The man is the lightest sleeper to ever exist, and he sleeps with his door open. He considers it a precautionary measure, in case any of the other sides need him. He must have heard Anxiety’s cursing and came to the rescue. The sound of a paperclip hitting the ground could probably wake him up.

With a shake of his head, Anxiety slowly opens the door, in fact seeing Morality standing on the other side. The man looks sleepy, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses with one hand, yawning. Anxiety instantly feels a pang of guilt at having woken up the male, in which he averts his gaze and stares down at his sock-clad feet, his toes digging into the tiles of the bathroom floor.

“Ann? Are you all right, kiddo?” Morality asks, his voice slightly slurred with sleep. “What time is it?” The concern of the other makes warmth threaten to creep into Anxiety’s chest, but he quickly stifles it. He should feel bad about waking Morality up.

“I’m fine. Sorry for waking you, Mor. Go back to bed. It’s like… three? I don’t know.” Anxiety makes a conscious effort to keep his voice controlled, but despite his effort, Morality obviously picks up that not everything is peachy keen. Anxiety can tell by the way Morality frowns, leaning against the door frame, arms slowly crossing over his chest.

“How about you come back to my room with me for a bit? We can chat there, no worries, right?” He invites Anxiety slowly, eyes peering over Anxiety’s entire being, trying to detect any sort of reaction from the male.

“I said I’m fine, yeah?”

“And I said let’s go back to my room. Come on, silly goose!” Morality speaks in a peppy tone and reaches out for Anxiety’s pajama sleeve, in which he tugs and Anxiety sighs, following Morality with reluctance. Once they are securely in Morality’s room, the male shuts the door and turns to face Anxiety, taking a seat on his bed. “Now, how about you tell dad what’s bothering you, huh?”

“I told you, nothing.”

Morality sighs, shaking his head. “You know full well that I can tell something is on your mind. Maybe I can help you out if you let me know?”

Anxiety looks down at his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed carefully, fingers fiddling with the ends of the sleeves of his pajama shirt. If he is to tell anyone about what it is that is bothering him, he supposes that Morality would be the person he would go to. Morality is so kind, and he offers productive advice when he can. “Promise me that you will not tell Roman, no matter what.”

Morality looks taken aback, but he nods nonetheless. “All right, son.”

“Do you think… no. I think - I know - there is no way he really… There’s no way he truly… wants me. Loves me. Not- me. I’m too, for lack of a better word, me.”

The admittance makes Anxiety frown, his hands shaking, neck itching. He chews on his lower lip, tugging at his sleeves- all while Morality watches, a solemn expression on his face.

“You really believe he doesn’t love you?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him. I do… just. he can’t love me. Not me. I’m not someone who is loved. Who can be loved.”

Silence. Anxiety is met with silence, only further stressing out the male. 

“Look, maybe I should just-”

“Anxiety, please look at me.”

It takes all Anxiety has to do as he is asked, and in turn he meets Morality’s eyes. They hold a sadness Anxiety has never seen from the man before. It hurts his heart to see.

“Roman adores you. We all do. Of course you deserve love, just like anyone else.” Morality reaches out for one of Anxiety’s hands, squeezing gently. “You are so important, Anxiety. You and Roman love each other, yeah?”

Anxiety looks over Morality’s sincere expression for a few moments before turning away, pulling his hand back and standing. “Thanks.” He mumbles, glancing in Morality’s direction. “Just- go to bed. I’m sorry for waking you.” He silently pads out of Morality’s room, heading back to his own bedroom. Roman is fast asleep still, arms open. He knows he shouldn’t, but Anxiety is selfish. He craves being close to Roman, being held by him. So, he lays in Roman’s open arms, and sighs shakily at the feeling of the embrace that comes quickly, hugging him close. He can revel in this feeling of completion for one more night, right?

“Why won’t you even look at me?” Roman huffs at his boyfriend, in which Anxiety is making a point to sit as far from Roman as possible on the sofa. “I wasn’t aware that we were fighting. What happened?”

“Nothing.” Anxiety answers simply, shrugging his shoulders. The two are sat on opposite sides of the sofa, Logan is in his room reading, and Morality is sat on the chair in the living room, watching the two interact, though he tries to hide his spying behind a newspaper.

“We would be cuddling if nothing was wrong. Talk to me, what’s going on with you, honeybee?” Roman turns to face Anxiety, scooting and reaching out for him. In turn, Anxiety presses himself against the opposite armrest, hiding his face against the sofa side.

“You should learn when to back off, Roman. I don’t want to talk.”

Anxiety can practically feel Roman’s hurt.

It is midnight. Anxiety hears a knock on his door and Roman requesting to come in, but he can’t bother to get up to answer it.

Eventually, footsteps can be heard walking away.

Morality watches from the sidelines as Anxiety’s fears tear his and Roman’s relationship apart. He watches as Roman desperately tries to talk to Anxiety, but Anxiety either leaves the room or blatantly ignores him. He watches as Roman soon stops trying to talk to Anxiety so often. He watches as what light Anxiety had in his eyes seems to fade. He watches as Roman becomes more short tempered and bitter.

He watches as they finally break off their relationship.

“Prince, seriously, you’re annoying the holy hell out of me. I don’t want to talk about anything, I don’t want to talk to you, why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because you are my boyfriend! Anxiety, please, you won’t even call me by my name anymore. You’re pushing me away, I know you are. Can you even tell me why?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t date anymore if I have to deal with your interrogation. This is bull, honestly.”

Anxiety doesn’t know what to do. He always felt so alone, but after feeling what it is like to not be, losing the togetherness leaves a gaping hole in his chest, bigger than before. He doesn’t have Roman to turn to when the darkness closes in, when he is so overwhelmed by the fears that he embodies and they become a part of him and he lets go, hot tears pouring down his cheeks and his lungs burning for a full, non-hyperventilating breath. Nails claw at fabric and teeth dig into lips and it is all he has, all he can register in this cycle of fear he has been cast in, locked away in the darkness of his bedroom. He has no choice but to face it alone. He was never meant to be loved, he never will be. But something he was meant for was solitude.

The bags under Anxiety’s eyes make Roman’s chest physically ache. He knows there isn’t makeup there, the black beneath his beloved’s eyes are concrete indicators of his suffering. It concerns him that Anxiety doesn’t even care enough to put his makeup on anymore.  All Roman wants to do is help, to try to fix things. He doesn’t know what he did to warrant Anxiety’s bitterness towards him, but he wants to do what he can to make Anxiety love him again. Anxiety is who he loves. He wants to hold him, guide him back to the light. Anxiety won’t let him.

But Morality will.

Morality must have noticed the changes in Anxiety’s demeanor as well. How quiet he has become, how little he has been fussing over Thomas, the messiness of his appearance that has reached an extreme. All of the sides are concerned. He made a promise, but sometimes promises cannot be kept. Morality chooses to speak to Roman. Roman needs to know.

“You can’t be mad at me, but - I made a promise. To Anxiety. And I mean, I know promises are meant to be kept and I always keep mine, but I really can’t keep this one anymore. “I was never supposed to tell you about this, but you need to know, I think.” Morality takes the time to clear his throat, eyes watering at the mere memory of what Anxiety had said. He wishes there was something he could do to help the darker trait feel better about himself. “He needs help. You know how he is, stubborn. He thinks of the worst in situations, but I know he’s been trying to get better about that. But he- he doesn’t feel like he really deserves to be… loved. Like how you love him. That’s what he told me, and I tried to tell him otherwise, but he doesn’t really listen…”

Roman is so upset that his love, his Sunshine, his beloved could think so lowly of himself that he isn’t upset with Morality for keeping his promise for so long.

There’s a knock at his door again. Anxiety has the desire to chuck something at it, but currently, he’s half asleep, between the brink of falling asleep into a blissful nap and waking up to address that darn door. But the knocking doesn’t stop this time, no matter how long Anxiety ignores it, to the point that eventually he huffs and stomps over to the door to open, glaring at the culprit.

He wasn’t expecting to see Roman standing there, holding an obnoxiously large bouquet of red roses.

Anxiety steps back to shut his door, but Roman is quick to step forward, looking at Anxiety with pleading eyes. “Let me show you.”

“Show me what?” Anxiety clears his throat, coughing into the crook of his arm awkwardly. He knows he must look awful. He feels embarrassed, looking the way he does while standing in front of a masterpiece like Roman. The man is perfect.

“Let me show you that I love you. That you deserve all of the love in the world, because you are so beautiful. So honest, so charming, so humorous, so caring. Please, Anxiety.” Roman’s voice is raw with emotion, so raw that Anxiety is taken aback, his cheeks pooling with warmth.

“What do you- what, did Morality-”

“You need help, Anxiety. And I know it must be difficult for you, but the three of us are here for you. I am so in love with you that just being apart from my beloved for these past few weeks has been paining me, I need you in my life again. I miss your little smiles, I miss how you would move in a way that would ask me to do certain things for you and I could just read you like a book, I miss your kisses, I miss holding your hand, I miss watching Disney movies with you and listening to you tell me about your silly dark theories. Please, let me love you. Let me teach you to love yourself.”

Anxiety can’t help but to laugh softly to himself after Roman’s speech, tears in his eyes, and Roman’s fingers tremble at the implications. Maybe Anxiety really wants him gone.

“Your romantic speeches will be the death of me. Enough of this feelings talk, just - come in, okay?”

Roman does so with a grin brighter than the sun, and as Anxiety replays the words Roman spoke in his mind, the slightest bit of warmth manages to find its way to his chest.

Maybe someone like him is allowed to be loved.

[tally-my-words]

Friends Have Benefits

For @thesneakyhobo who got me to watch the new Voltron show. Watch out or I will give you crypto/xenobiology posts on possibly wonderful ideas for the Galrans.

This, however, is purely weird Klance fluff to the max.

Keith knows looking back how it all starts is his fault. Of course, he goes to Shiro. Shiro has always been his person, the safe crush, the big brother now that he’s growing past idealizing the older pilot. Shiro was his hero. Shiro then went and somehow became his friend. Before robot lions or aliens or traveling to Pluto’s moons, it was Shiro who got him into a space program and made sure he had a roof. Of course, he used to have a crush on Shiro. Of course, somehow, Shiro’s still the one he goes to when he needs perspective.

“You have to help me avoid Lance,” he informs the other paladin.

Shiro’s concern is immediate and professional. He’s obviously concerned for his team. “Why? What’s wrong?” he asks.

Keith standing in the hanger bay wonders what he’d fall through if he cut a hole through the floor, probably some mechanical crawl space. “Lance won’t leave me alone… I’ve got a crush on him and he won’t leave me alone.”

Shiro wishes he could be phased. He’s not surprised. Instead, he holds himself still, wills himself not to fall over laughing, because it’s a close thing. He shoots a look at Allura who’s standing to the side. He can tell she heard and he glares that she better not make light. Keith isn’t always comfortable with caring. He knows the Keith better than almost anyone, though, so he knows what to say. “I’m pretty sure you could tell Lance to his face and he wouldn’t notice.”

Keith rolls his eyes, trying not to chuckle himself. His humor is self-deprecating but better than his anxiety over how Lance would react. “Yeah, he’s too busy being straight,” the red lion’s paladin jokes.

Keith misses Coran’s entrance. The man should wear a bell. He realizes when he catches Allura shooing him. He’s not surprised

"You're right, Princess, if they realize their feelings for each other those two will be more insufferable than they already are!" Coran exclaims. Keith feels his face heat up as bright as his armor. Why must Coran blow everything out of proportion and constantly make excessively bold assumptions?!

Shiro and Allura’s expressions approach incredulous while Keith grows still brighter red. The paladin’s timing and fate couldn’t get worse.

Lance walks up like a minute later, studies the suddenly quiet group and ask,. "What are you talking about?"

Of course, Pidge practically falls out of an access panel to answer, "How silly it is that someone has a crush on you."

Lance’s excitement in the room is palpable. He practically dances on the balls of his feet in victory. “Someone has a crush on me?” he tries to verify.

Shiro and Allura wonder for a long moment how weirdly this will go.

Anytime four paladin’s of Voltron are in a single room, it’s invariable that the fifth will join and Hunk proves that when in enters the bay. "What's up?"

Coran has grown interested in something else by this point and Allura considers how much it will help to strike her forehead with her palm. She’s watched Shiro attempt the act multiple times and banging a palm to one’s face seems to calm the humans.

Keith cringes when Lance reiterates Pidge’s bold statement "Someone has a crush on me!"

"You're just realizing Keith likes you?" Hunk replies, curious how the blue paladin could be so oblivious.

Lance beams in reply, the mistake makes sense, but it’s obviously flawed. "Naw, Keith has a huge crush on Shiro. It's super flattering that you all think that, though!"

Keith’s face turns pink once more. He feels the need to qualify it. It’s not the first time he’s considered why he liked Shiro so much. “Anyone will have a crush on the person who taught them to fly - who found them a thing and got them a home... it was a phase." He turns and leaves, feigning exhaustion with the subject and their petty drama.

Lance follows him out, never thinking twice or considering that Keith could need or want privacy. "Shiro is pretty awesome, so I get that."

If Lance wasn't, somehow, his best friend, Keith would be irate at the question from his crush. It's so simple and genuine. There's no judgment from Lance's perspective - just that damn genuine curiosity.

"What's it like having a crush on someone you're friends with?" Lance asks, effortless and oblivious, but well meaning.

Keith is vaguely confused at first. "You're telling me you've never had a crush on a friend? You like Allura!"

Lance blushes lightly. "Of course I like Allura. She's beautiful, kind, and all … but sort of boring. She knows everything. It would be exhausting to always be wrong!"

"Oh, that would be so horrible!" Keith counters, rolling his eyes as he laughs at Lance. "What makes you think like that?"

"Well, you meet someone and you think they're pretty, you go on a few dates, and then if you're friends you consider making it more serious, right?"

"It a romantic movie from the last century!" Keith teases. "You sound like you've never met someone you'd fantasize about touching or imagine waking up with?"

"Not yet. No one gives me the chance to get there," Lance replies, half indignant.

"That's why it's got to be better liking people you already know!"

"It is absolutely not better! It's awkward and embarrassing and there's constant fear of rejection. It cranks anxiety through the roof," Keith counters. "So, hotshot, ever kiss a girl?"

"Several. Nothing made much of an impression? I figure it's overrated. Sell more mints or something," Lance replies easily. "I figure when I meet the right girl and it clicks maybe it will be different. Anything memorable?"

Keith preens like a peacock. "Yeah, a few, but not girls?" His tone changes and he goes blush.

"No sweat. Not everyone likes the same things," Lance adds effortlessly. Keith wonders if Lance realizes he's talking about his sexuality and not just discussing the weather. "Depending on what you like, it can be the best, but that sense of hope is pretty good, too. You get this sense that you have an ally. Like ... if it goes right, you're not alone and you won't be."

"Yeah, always figure if I keep trying I'll find something like that!" Lance replies, smile warm. "But we're never going to be alone. You've got a whole team and that's better!"

Keith tries not to blush. "It is, but it's different."

"It can't be that different," Lance argues.

"Then you'd take me snoring over a swimsuit model?" Keith teases. He's trying to distance Lance. He thinks maybe this asshole move will. 

"I totally am cool with your snoring! Makes sure I know you're still in bed and haven’t run off to go fight alien overlords on some obscure moon," Lance replies, not really thinking it through.

Keith almost doubles with laughter. The world is cruel.

"You would totally lead a guy on!" Keith teases. His heart needs Lance to do something, anything to spur him past this stupid crush so he can go back to not caring so much about the other defender. 

Lance rolls his eyes before announcing, "Sharing a bed isn't anything to make a big deal out of.” Keith wouldn't really know. “I get that maybe sex or something would make it better, but for the most part, you’re still sleeping.”

"You're still telling me you wouldn't arise to the occasion of a hot girl in your bed?" Keith knows he's trying too hard, knows he’s pushing for crass.

"Dude, I get sex is supposed to be this fascinating concept, but I haven't had it yet and I'm pretty cool with what I have? I miss my family like crazy, but that's the cost of saving the universe!" Lance counters. Keith thinks Lance wouldn’t trade being home for someone else being away.  

"I am so jealous," Keith admits, feeling defensive. "You have no clue what it is to want something in front of you and not be able to reach for it?" Keith asks.

A blush stretches across Lance cheeks. "So you still have a crush on Shiro?" he asks. He's full of second-hand embarrassment for his friend. Of course, Lance isn’t convinced despite Keith’s instance he’s over Shiro. Lance leans against Keith's arm. Why must Lance he be so damn supportive?

"No, over that," Keith admits softly admits. Lance stares forward.

"I was pretty flattered earlier when I thought someone had a crush on me,” Lance adds. Keith tries not to laugh.

"Naw, you're not cool enough for that!" Keith counters.

Lance chuckles, "I really don't get it. How are you supposed to go up, befriend a stranger you have nothing in common with, and like them enough to pursue a lifelong thing with?"

"Yet you totally have a life-long thing with us," Keith teases. "Now get off me so I can go to my room."

Lance doesn't know why, but he grips Keith's wrist for a moment. "Anyone tries to take you away from us and I'll kill them."

Keith is used to being the bold one. He's stunned. "What if this is my home?"

"Then you still need to meet my Mama when I introduce her to Blue!"

"She'll be real happy with the giant robots and a tag along alien orphan?" he ventures.

"Of course. You're the family I've made. She's got to respect that!" Lance proclaims.

"Even the giant robot lion?"

"Especially the giant robot lions," Lance insists.

"And what if I get a boyfriend?" Keith jokes. He's jealous that Lance would do so much as his friend. He so desperately wants any place he can get with his friends.

"Then I will be insanely jealous that I've been replaced," Lance jokes and, despite the humor, it's as genuine as when he asked Keith about what it’s like to feel that way for a friend.

Keith blushes. He knows Lance didn't mean it like that.

This time Lance sees it. His eyes go wide. "Well, and I doing this all backward? Isn’t someone supposed to bring the other one flowers or some shit? I don't think I did anything to seduce you... I'm not seduced?"

Keith's blush just goes redder. "I could try," he manages at barely a whisper.

Lance's darker cheeks change the slightest tone. He nods. "Not... a bad idea?"

Keith knows it's probably stupid, but he remembers being kissed breathless and just the smallest chance of something like that makes him bold. He intended a quick peck to let Lance process this.

He forgot about the height difference. He steps into Lance's personal space and leans up to press their lip in what he assumes will be an awkward kiss. Lance isn't really impressed by the kiss, though. However, it feels insanely warm and comfortable when he accidentally winds up with a badly balanced Keith against his chest. It's an amazing hug. A second kiss follows, attempting to get it right. It’s soft, dry lips and warm skin.

Lance flushes from head to toe when the feel of Keith's lips pulling away feels like loss. The red paladin laughs. "No bad?" Keith dares, trying to be funny as he considers how to sneak out of Lance's embrace and go die of embarrassment.

"I actually liked it," Lance admits, trying not to look scared at how intense that fact feels.

Keith can't manage avoidance. "Good.