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nb-octopus-writes · 1 month

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once you’re in the hive, the other bees assume you’re supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Chapter 4: Second Morning

wordcount: 1.9K

~~~~

The next morning, Virgil wakes not to birdsong, but to the sound of his alarm.

Blech, mornings. Morning jobs are evil and should be abolished.

Virgil reaches for his phone, but it isn't on the nightstand where it's supposed to be. The nightstand isn't on the floor where it's supposed to be. Virgil reaches out further, searching, and overbalances.

He falls.

This is going to hurt.

Virgil lands, and the floor is a lot closer than it's supposed to be, and also a lot cleaner. The wind is still knocked out of him, but he didn’t land on anything but carpet. It's carpet that was recently vacuumed, even, judging by the lack of dusty smell.

Too many things are not how they are supposed to be. Virgil opens his eyes and looks around.

This isn't his bedroom.

The alarm is still going off. Virgil spots his phone on the floor near him, and he turns off the alarm.

This isn't his bedroom. Virgil yawns. He'd been sleeping on a couch, but it wasn't his couch, either.

Oh, yeah. He'd fallen asleep at Remus's brother's house again. Oops.

…

He has work.

He hadn't meant to still be here right now. He's supposed to be in his own bed, in his own tiny apartment, sleepily snoozing his alarm. Not here.

He'll have to figure out a different bus route. Does the bus even go by here? He's pulling up the bus schedule when his phone informs him that it has been way too long since he plugged it in, and fucking dies.

“Fuck,” Virgil whispers, with feeling, and then again, a little louder, “Fuck!”

He scrambles off the floor, trying to think. An adrenaline spike does wonders for chasing the sleep-fog out of his brain, but it doesn't usher in logic.

Deep breath. Okay. What does he need?

He needs to get to work on time.

Breathe.

What are his obstacles, and what can he do about them?

Problem: He's not home to catch the bus. Solution: Catch the bus from here. Problem: He doesn't know if the bus goes by here or which one or when or what connections he'd need to make. Solution: Look it up. Problem: His phone is dead. Solution: Plug it in. Problem: No charger. Solution: …

Solution: …

Solution: Ask for fucking help.

Virgil spins and leaves the room. They might not have a charger that'll fit his phone, and it would take too long to get it to a level where he can actually look anything up anyway, but they can at least tell him if there's a bus stop nearby. They might even be willing to look up connections for him.

Luckily for Virgil, his hosts are all in the dining room when he bursts in.

“Good morning,” Calico says, already looking concerned. “What's wrong?”

“Is there a bus?” Virgil asks.

“A what?”

“A bus,” Virgil repeats. “A bus, does a bus go by here? I have work, I'm going to be late, and I can't look up the bus schedule because my phone is dead!”

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Calico says soothingly, and Virgil wants to scream because it is not okay, he's going to be late for work. He doesn't scream, because that would not be helpful and Calico is just trying to be nice, but he wants to. “Roman can drive you. Right, Roman?”

“Absolutely,” says Princey, whose name is apparently Roman, and gets up. “I'll get my keys.”

Calico portions out some omelette from the pan in the middle of the table, and gives it to Virgil. “Here, eat,” he insists. “You slept through dinner, you shouldn't miss breakfast too.”

Virgil scarfs it mechanically. If Princey is going to drive him, he probably has enough time to eat, but the lingering edges of panic tell him not to waste any time savoring the flavors.

“Do you have any things you need to gather before you go?” Nerdbot asks. Virgil shakes his head.

Well. “My pool noodles I guess,” he says. He probably shouldn't just leave those here for them to clean up. Nerdbot nods and leaves the table as well.

Roman comes back as Virgil finishes the plate of omelette. “Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Nerdbot hands Virgil the pool noodles, and Calico hands him a buttered bagel. “Eat it on the way,” he says. Princey leads Virgil out to the garage, and they get in his car.

It's red, and fancy-shaped, with a swoopy silhouette instead of what Virgil considers the car default.

Roman hands Virgil his phone once he's buckled, open to the map app, and starts to back out of the garage.

Virgil hesitates. “Can we stop at my place first?” he asks. “I could really use a change of clothes.” He'd really rather not go to work in a Halloween costume he's been wearing for over thirty-six hours.

“Sure,” Princey says. “Which way?”

Virgil puts in his address, and the phone gives him directions. “Left,” he says, the tight band of anxiety finally loosing from around his lungs. It's not entirely gone yet, and won't be until he clocks in, but he's doing better. Princey pulls out of the driveway, and they're off.

Soon, they're pulling up in front of Virgil’s apartment. He'd managed to eat the bagel and navigate at the same time, and they've arrived a bit before Virgil is usually out the door. He really might make it to work on time.

“I'll wait here while you run up and get changed,” Roman says, and Virgil nods. He shifts the pool noodles so he's holding them with the same arm as the phone, and uses his other hand to open the car door.

He dashes up the stairs, unlocks his door at the speed of fright, and dumps his armload on his bed. Virgil strips quickly, and grabs his apron and the first set of clean clothes he sees. He wishes there was time for a shower, but there really isn't. Even if there was, he isn't about to make Princey wait that long for him.

He smears some black eyeshadow on to hide the tired bags under his eyes, grabs his necessities from his previous pockets, and he's back out the door.

“Very fast,” Princey compliments as Virgil rejoins him. “I saw a bus go by.”

“Yeah, that was my usual ride to work,” Virgil says, buckling up. “We can take a more direct route and beat them there. Head out the way you came in, and then take a right at the light.”

They do, in fact, beat the bus there. Virgil heaves a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, man,” he says. “I owe you my life. Do you want some coffee? I can give you my employee discount.”

Roman smiles at him. “I would love some coffee,” he says, and turns off the engine.

There aren't any other customers in line when they go in, just Jayden behind the register.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he greets. Virgil rolls his eyes and comes round to clock in.

“Oh my gosh I love your hair,” Roman enthuses. “That is absolutely gorgeous, did you do it yourself?”

Jay's hair is gorgeous. It's mostly dyed in deep shades of blue, with a few streaks of greens and purples and the natural black. He has it in at least fifty slender box braids, which today are tied back in a loose plait running down his back.

“Oh, no, my friends and I had a styling party,” he answers, which is the short version of the truth he uses for casual conversation with customers—especially white customers. Virgil happens to know that said styling party had been stretched out over more than a week, working their hair in increments so as not to damage it. Virgil had been invited to a few of the sessions, and is responsible for several of Jayden's braids, and some of the color.

“That is a fabulous idea; I should arrange one the next time I dye my hair,” Princey exclaims. “I've been planning to do it in every color of the rainbow!”

“Nice,” Virgil says. Princey's ear-length hair is currently what appears to be a natural brown, with reddish tips. “Stripes running front to back or side to side?”

“You know, I hadn't considered that part,” Princey says, and Virgil laughs. “What do you think?”

Virgil shrugs, and Jay considers Roman.

“Front to back, with the red on top and purple over your ears,” he says. “Perhaps with the red a bit off-center so the stripes are different sizes. That way if it’s not perfect it'll look intentional.”

Roman grins. “I like you,” he declares. “Do you want to come to my styling party?”

Jayden grins back. “Let me know when you plan it and I'll check my calendar.”

“Have you ever dyed your hair?” Roman asks Virgil, whose hair is in fact currently dyed.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, then admits, “I'm actually blond.”

“You're blond!?” Princey cries. “Oh, that is unfair, Gerard Gay! Please trade with me, I beg of you!”

“Why?” Virgil asks.

“Because then I wouldn't have to bleach!” Roman says. “I could redye my hair as soon as the roots grew out, rather than having to wait until enough has grown that I can bleach it without touching the last dye job!”

“Well, unfortunately I don't know how to trade hair colors,” Virgil says. “I think it's genetic.”

Roman groans dramatically, slumping against the counter. “The world is against me,” he complains into the glass. “You wouldn't even miss it, you dye it black! Brown is as easy to make black as blond! Easier, probably!”

Virgil reaches over and pats him sarcastically on the shoulder. “There, there,” he says. “Would coffee make you feel better?” That is why they'd come in here, after all.

“No,” Roman says grumpily, but he straightens and looks at the menu.

“Give him my discount,” Virgil says to Jayden while Roman decides. Jay flashes him a thumbs-up.

“Are the chocolate croissants good?” Roman asks.

“Not as good as what you're served at home, but yeah.”

“Hmmm.” He considers a bit longer, then orders a croissant and, with a decent amount of dithering over flavors, three coffees to go.

Jayden tells him the total and Roman pays, dropping his change and some extra bills into the tip jar. Virgil passes him the croissant, and he eats it while Virgil finishes making the coffee.

“You want a carrier for these?” Virgil asks, already putting them in one. Roman's only got two hands, after all.

“Probably best,” Roman agrees, and Virgil slides the coffee over to him. “Do you need a ride home after work?”

“Nah, I'll take the bus,” Virgil reassures him.

“Alright, if you're sure. See you later!” Princey balances the coffees in one hand so he can wave with the other, and he's off.

“So,” Jay says once the door closes behind him. “Where'd you get the suave edition of your trash rat?”

“Two-for-one special,” Virgil says. “Met him at a Halloween party Remus dragged me to.”

“Well, keep him.” Jayden nods toward the door. “Man just tipped us double what I charged him.”

~~~~

Chapter 5: The Most Accidental of Thefts

#nb octopus writes #sanders sides #accidental polycule infiltration fic #4 #polyamory #polysanders #LMP #multichapter

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whencyclopedia · 1 month

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Romulus and Remus

In Roman mythology, Romulus and his twin brother Remus were the founders of the city of Rome. They were the children of Rhea Silvia and Mars (or in some variations the demi-god hero Hercules) and their story is recorded by many authors including Virgil who claims their birth and adventures were fated in order for Rome to be founded.

The Birth & Parentage of Romulus & Remus

Romulus and Remus were the direct descendants of Aeneas, whose fate-driven adventures to discover Italy are described by Virgil in The Aeneid. Romulus and Remus were related to Aeneas through their mother's father, Numitor. Numitor was a king of Alba Longa, an ancient city of Latium in central Italy, and father to Rhea Silvia. Before Romulus' and Remus' conception, Numitor's reign was usurped by Numitor's younger brother, Amulius. Amulius inherited control over Alba Longa's treasury with which he was able to dethrone Numitor and become king. Amulius, wishing to avoid any conflict of power, killed Numitor's male heirs and forced Rhea Silvia to become a Vestal Virgin. Vestal Virgins were priestesses of Vesta, patron goddess of the hearth; they were charged with keeping a sacred fire that was never to be extinguished and to take vows of chastity.

There is much debate and variation as to who was the father of Romulus and Remus. Some myths claim that Mars appeared and lay with Rhea Silvia; other myths attest that the demi-god hero Hercules was her partner. However, the author Livy claims that Rhea Silvia was in fact raped by an unknown man, but blamed her pregnancy on divine conception. In either case, Rhea Silvia was discovered to be pregnant and gave birth to her sons. It was custom that any Vestal Virgin betraying her vows of celibacy was condemned to death; the most common death sentence was to be buried alive. However, King Amulius, fearing the wrath of the paternal god (Mars or Hercules) did not wish to directly stain his hands with the mother's and children's blood. So, King Amulius imprisoned Rhea Silvia and ordered the twins' death by means of live burial, exposure, or being thrown into the Tiber River. He reasoned that if the twins were to die not by the sword but by the elements, he and his city would be saved from punishment by the gods. He ordered a servant to carry out the death sentence, but in every scenario of this myth, the servant takes pity on the twins and spares their lives. The servant, then, places the twins into a basket and onto the River Tiber; the river carries the boys to safety.

#History #Aeneas #AlbaLonga #Amulius #WHE #[#]

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spoondoodles · 6 months

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I HAVE BEEN CONVINCED OF THE LOGINCE AGENDA

#spoondoodles #sanders sides #logan sanders #sanders sides fanart #ts sides #tss #roman sanders #logince #some HS AU i guess???? idk i was just vibing after reading multiple logince hs aus and they got in my head #just the dynamic of the flamboyant extrovert drama gay adopting his pet introverted nerd is v good imo #in the au in my mind logan and patton were childhood friends but roman befriended logan via annoying him and now they're low key inseparabl #everyone sees it but them b/c they have shared insecurity issues lmaoo they're too oblivious unfortunately #virgil is 5 seconds from snapping at any given moment but knows they'd never believe him if he told them they're in love #patton has a scrapbook of their school years together and so many are photos of logan and roman sleeping on each other #remus just enjoys teasing his brother and chemistry bestie over their obvious crushes they've separately sworn him to secrecy over #i think janus is the one that eventually gets thro to one of them tho idk how yet #anyway! more doodles incoming when my new tablet pen comes in i may have broken it during this drawing ;-;

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touyubesposts · 2 years

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Do you think canon Thomas ever, like... Mixes up their names? We know for a fact Writer Thomas does, thanks to bloopers. Like, Logan alone has been mistaken for both Virgil and Patton at one point. Like, it has to be the same for canon Thomas, right?

Thomas definitely had one of those mom moments where he just rattles through all the names until he says the right one. Also a possibility, Thomas rattles off a couple names, gives up, and just points at them while saying “That one! You!” Thomas accidentally called Remus ‘Roman’ once and, safe to say, will never make that mistake again. (No violence (surprisingly,) just a lot of yelling about Thomas’s ‘audacity’ and how they aren’t the same.)

But also I feel the other sides are guilty of this as well. Logan called Patton ‘Janus’ once. Patton thought it was funny, but this haunts Logan. Remus called Virgil ‘Roman’ once, and Virgil brushed it off as a ‘hey, don’t worry about it’ kinda moment. Remus had never been more grossed out by a mix-up. (Ew, I called him my brother’s name? Gross.)

And Thomas has been called by all of the side’s names at least once.

#thomas sanders #sander sides #sanders sides #patton sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #character thomas #ts virgil #ts sides #ts patton #ts janus #ts thomas #thatsthat24 #ts roman #ts logan #ts fandom

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lefaystrent · 11 days

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Virgil/Remus college roommates AU

It's Remus's third year of college. He's majoring in a medical field because it's gross and cool, and he knows human anatomy like the back of his hand.

Remus's major is not his first choice or second or third. But it is the choice that he could live with along with hopefully making his parents proud.

Somehow, his parents still think he's an embarrassment to the family. They often compare him to his twin brother, Roman, who gained major success as a child actor.

It's not Roman's fault, and Roman tries, but there's an unresolved part of Remus that's jealous and wishes he had any attention at all.

Remus has been through a few roommates. They usually request a transfer the first month in. Either Remus is too crass or too loud or too nosey or too gross. Too much in general.

Remus doesn't know how else to be but himself. He's proud of who he is. Doesn't make it any less lonely or easy to make friends.

Remus has one singular friend. Janus who's not even a student at this college, but he does some work for some students for under-the-table pay. Otherwise known as plagiarizing papers for the tired or lazy masses.

Remus meets Janus because someone recommended him as a tutor. Janus never corrects him and continues tutoring him.

Beginning his third year of college in the dorms, Remus does not have high hopes for his new roomie. Mostly he is excited to see how long the new guy will last. Remus gets set up in the room first and waits for whenever his roomie will appear.

The new roomie is Virgil. He's an undecided major, wears an oversized hoodie, has anxiety out the wazoo, and is the cutest emo he has ever seen.

Remus has a type. His type is angry kitten. He does not realize he has a type until this moment. He kinda wants to really keep this one.

Virgil doesn't mind taking the leftover bed, so Remus doesn't have to move his stuff. Virgil's dad is also there to help his son move in. His dad is a therapist (psst, it's Emile), and is like the total opposite to his son in terms of attire and personality.

Virgil is also really close with his dad. It's clear as day in the way he waddles after him like a darkling duck while giving Remus apprehensive glances.

Remus tries to be on his best behavior, he really does. He offers to help them carry stuff, and Emile is delighted, and Remus cracks some jokes that they actually laugh at a couple of times.

Before Emil leaves, he asks Remus to take care of his son. Remus salutes him seriously and says it will be his honor.

As soon as the door closes, Virgil's timidness skyrockets. He admits that this is his first year living on campus and without his dad. Even though Emile promised he's only a phone call away and he doesn't live that far, it's still a lot for a kid to be thrust out of the nest.

Remus cheers him up by asking if he wants to see his bone collection. Yes, you heard him right. He collects bones of dead things. They're stored under his bed which he affectionately refers to as the boneyard.

Virgil rolls with it. He lets Remus chatter, and he doesn't interrupt him. Remus thinks he doesn't know what to say to break the ice, so Remus smashes all the ice for him.

Remus learns that despite this being Virgil's first year on campus, he already has enough credits under his belt to graduate and then some. Apparently, he's been racking them up at breakneck speed with online classes ever since he graduated high school early.

It was Emile's idea for him to attend university life, to push him out of his shell and make friends. Virgil has been homeschooled most of his life because he can't handle crowds and other kids are the worst. He wants to try this for his dad though, to at least be able to say he put effort into it.

Remus respects that. He doesn't understand anxiety. He's so used to throwing himself out there. Who doesn't like attention? But attention makes Virgil nervous so Remus makes a solid attempt to not pay attention to him.

Which of course makes it all the harder. He overcompensates and comes on too strong. He babbles one night their first week into classes about a documentary he watched on Ted Bundy which leads into John Winn Gacey, and then on to the Zodiac Killer.

Virgil stops him at some point, eyes like saucers. "Do you realize you've been talking for over an hour about serial killers?"

Remus thinks this is the part where Virgil applies to switch roommates on the grounds that Remus is secretly a murderer. But instead, Virgil admits he's impressed by how much he knows and asks if he's ever watched Buzzfeed Unsolved.

And then they bond over watching shows together, and Virgil calls his dad and gushes about it, and Remus feels his stomach do a little flip at how happy Virgil seems to want to share this.

It becomes a thing where Virgil calls his dad and gives him updates not only about his life but Remus. Emile always asks about him and tells Virgil to tell him hi.

Remus is dumbfounded. He can't imagine calling his folks every month, let alone every day.

The two of them find a routine after the first week. By which, that means they have no routine. Virgil is a chronic insomniac and Remus can sleep through anything. Whenever Remus catches Virgil finally asleep, he either steps out of the room or sits completely still on pain of death. It helps that Virgil often wears his headphones and blasts music.

There's a time when Remus returns early to their dorm room and hears the slight, muffled sound of Virgil's music coming from Virgil's closet. Curious, Remus opens the closet to find that Virgil has made a blanket nest for himself inside and is fast asleep. Remus closes the door back gently and never tells Virgil that he knows about his super secret napping spot.

For Virgil's part, he doesn't know what to make of Remus for the first few weeks. Remus is flamboyant and proud in his masculinity even when wearing booty shorts. He sings like a hyena and he has those weird 3am pillow talk thoughts but like all the time.

He's also so random that even when Virgil feels anxious, it somehow gets him laughing more often than not. Remus beams during these moments and doubles down, usually becoming even more ridiculous.

Remus notices early on that Virgil skips meals. He doesn't think that it's an eating disorder or anything, because he eats whatever snacks Remus throws at him. Remus is smart though, more clever than people give him credit for, and his eyes often gravitate towards his favorite little emo.

Remus begins escorting Virgil to the food court. Virgil starts eating regular meals again now that he doesn't have to brave the swarms of people alone. The first time the food court is too congested indoors even with a buddy, Virgil crowds close to Remus and holds onto his arm and trusts him to steer them through.

Remus starts offering his hand whenever things get too claustrophobic. Virgil is surprised the first time, because guys don't just hold hands like that. But Remus is far from normal, and Virgil never claimed to be, so he takes the hand when it's offered. He can't look anyone in the eyes while they hold hands, but Virgil refuses to let go.

Holding hands with Virgil quickly becomes Remus's favorite activity. So much that he offers even when they're not around other people. Virgil doesn't always take it, but it makes him go soft in a way that Remus relishes.

Virgil went into university life initially thinking that he would hate it. After some weeks with Remus, he finds enjoyment. He's happy, and his classes are fun, and he never thought he'd befriend someone like Remus. At least, he thinks they're friends. Remus wouldn't hold his hand if they weren't at least friends, right?

Eventually, Remus admits to some of his struggles with his school work. Janus helps, but he's not knowledgeable in every subject(aka, Janus is flying by the seat of his pants and Remus doesn't realize it). Virgil agrees to help for the price of sour Skittles.

Remus learns quickly how Virgil has so many credits. Virgil's got that thing where he reads super fast and has a photographic memory.

"You have super powers," Remus accusses.

Virgil flushes and mutters something about it not being fair that he has built in cheat codes. He seems to be under the impression that this detracts from his successes and that he's not very intelligent.

Remus endeavors to prove him wrong any chance he gets. He compliments him often and praises him for helping him so much. He wants to show that Virgil's effort is its own merit. And Remus proves it to him because his grades do start improving in the courses he struggles with.

There's one night that they stay up late working on one of Remus's research papers. It's worth over a quarter of his grade, so it has to be good. He's got it printed out and ready to take to class, only he gets terribly distracted when getting ready that morning and runs out the door without it.

Virgil wakes up and spots the super important paper on Remus's desk five minutes before Remus's class starts.

Remus is very surprised to see Virgil show up to his class, panting for air and paper in hand.

"You sprinted across campus to bring this to me?" Remus asks, incredulous.

Virgil shrugs, wiping sweat from his brow, "You worked really hard on it."

That's the moment that Remus thinks he falls a little bit in love.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #romantic #virgil/remus #college au #and they were roommates au #emile picani #writing #fanfiction #dukexiety

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lovelylogans · 1 year

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the parent trap

the masterpost

“So,” Remus says slowly. “If your Dad is my Dad…”

“...and your Pa is my Papa…”

Remus stares at the seam of the wedding photo, made whole again after more than a decade. His Pa, Patton, familiar with his cowboy-handsome, weather-beaten face and his dimpled grin and his big, calloused hand resting over his new husband’s, even if Remus has never seen him look this smitten ever.

“And we’re both born on October 11… then, Roman. You and I are… like… brothers.”

And his Dad—Janus—smiling coyly, handsome in the way of magazine models, so completely a stranger to Remus with just this scrap of a photograph to serve as any way to know him, really know him. The way Roman knows him. The way Remus has been dying to know him all his life.

“Remus,” Roman breathes out, disbelieving. “We aren’t just brothers. We’re twins.”

Remus wonders, in a daze, if seeing the opposite life he could have had is as strange for Roman as it is for him… if they’d just been switched at birth, it’s the life Remus could have had, knowing his Dad instead of his Pa, but then…

But then it clicks.

“Roman,” he says, turning to grin at his brother—his brother! “I have a completely perfect, totally awesome idea!”

or: it's a parent trap AU for @tss-storytime with fanart by @tastic-in-its-finest!

warnings: pranks and practical jokes, smoking, drinking, brief mentions of underage drinking (in the context of a child trying a sip of wine), sibling rivalry and bonding, please let me know if i've missed any!

pairings: janus/patton, logan/virgil, brief patton/male oc

word count: 80k

notes: a few notes before we begin: first, thanks so much to morgan for their fanart for this fic!!! it's so cute, please like and reblog and do all that fun stuff!!! second, thanks to the folks over at the big bang for organizing this whole event—i know firsthand how complicated that can get, and you are so appreciated!!! this is technically a '90s au, but a '90s au in terms of the fashion and lack of social media/cell phones, not any of the homophobia. i hope you all enjoy!!!!

chapter one: prologue Across the world from each other, two very different families help two very similar boys pack their bags.

chapter two: welcome to camp walden! Welcome to what we like to think of as the most beautiful spot on God's green earth—Camp Walden.

chapter three: en garde The boys come to blows. (With practice épées, but in their minds, it’s equally as serious.)

chapter four: riposte The boys come to blows. (With words and stitching.)

chapter five: black card The boys come to blows. (With a temporary reversal of gravity, oodles of chocolate sauce, and finally, some semblance of adult interference.)

chapter six: isolation station The boys spend a great deal of their time considering coming to blows. Until suddenly, they don’t want to fight at all anymore.

chapter seven: operation augustus The realization of having an identical twin does quite a bit to spur some out-of-the-box levels of creativity.

chapter eight: let's get down to business! The boys begin to plot. Camp Walden trembles in fear.

chapter nine: to defeat… the family civil divisions of napa and london respectively! The boys plot. The world all over ought to be trembling in fear.

chapter ten: domine dirige nos Remus spends a great deal of time weighing the most British way to say hello. He’s going to have to repress throwing in a what’s all this then, guv’nor? the entire time.

chapter eleven: eureka! Roman spends a great deal of time weighing the most American way to say hello. He thinks he probably shouldn’t come right out of the gate with howdy, y’all!

chapter twelve: a wench in the works This absolutely was not in their multitude of blueprints!

chapter thirteen: riding is magic and friendship is power and love is everything to everyone Roman gets to meet his pony. He should, by all rights, be much more excited about it, but someone had to go and ruin it for him.

chapter fourteen: in which virgil attempts to hold a poker face (and fails miserably) Virgil curses being so observant.

chapter fifteen: all of my change spent on you Remus has a particularly fun run-in. Well. Fun for him.

chapter sixteen: so your sons have swapped places and are in foreign countries This particular subject was not covered in the parenting books.

chapter seventeen: hopped off the plane at lax with a dream of civil reconciliation with my ex-husband Remus plots. Grandfather aids and abets. Janus panics. Logan suffers them all.

chapter eighteen: small world and getting smaller Janus is officially the father of the two most troublesome twins in the galaxy.

chapter nineteen: you got me tripping, stumbling! sinking, fumbling! Patton makes a splash.

chapter twenty: the queen elizabeth the second the second The twins attempt to revive the past. The parents wish to change it.

chapter twenty-one: i said a boom chicka boom! Logan’s swept off his feet. As is Maddox, in an entirely different way.

chapter twenty-two: i said a boom GO TO YOUR ROOM The twins’ plots bear oh-so-satisfying fruit.

chapter twenty-three: where dreams have no end A hello, a goodbye.

chapter twenty-four: the concorde(ance) A goodbye, a hello.

chapter twenty-five: epilogue Two very similar boys help their two very different families assimilate into one.

#tssstorytimesubmission2023 #my fic #my fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #moceit #analogical #creativitwins #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #emile picani

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 5 months

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Gross

Fic Idea (no pressure obviously) Thomas struggling with his self image and ego, and in response Roman ends shapeshifting all the time, fluctuating between the masculine beauty standard (lean, muscular, hairless) and what society considers “ugly” (pudgy, hairy). And based on how he looks, Roman will interact with the others or hide away – anon

hihi!! had this random idea for a sanders sides fic- something along the lines of- a while after Remus and Roman split, Remus comes back (when the dark sides start to get more involved) and confesses that he hoped Roman was doing better after he joined the light sides? that all he wanted was for his brother to be happy, away from the darkness for once? angst sadness ykyk :)) – can-you-hear-me-axhilles

hi, so I just read your wings series and I was wondering if we could have something with Remus and his tentacles? Like maybe him thinking they are ugly or something, I’m not really sure. Maybe Roman has animal characteristics too and they’re “prettier” or “better” so he gets insecure? Mainly focused on these two but I don’t mind if it’s all of them together. No pressure to write this tho! – anon

I’ve been reading your Sanders Sides stuff for the longest time and I was wondering if I could get some Roman angst with a side of creativitwins? – meandmacats

Read on Ao3

Warnings: non-consensual body modification, self-esteem issues, self-hatred

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5481

Or, five times Remus helped Roman out when Thomas's self-esteem issues change his nature, and one time Roman helps Remus.

”Remus?”

Remus looks up from his knitting to see Patton standing over him. “What’s good, Pat-Pat?”

“I’m, what’re you doing?”

“Oh, I’m knitting this patchwork sweater out of hair.”

“Oh…how cool.” Patton gives himself a shake. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’ve seen Roman? He was supposed to come down for lunch but he never showed.”

“Like, at all, at all?”

“Yeah. Neither hair nor hide! Or—well, I guess he did do the hide since he’s hiding from us, and you’re the hair!”

“Ah, Pat-Pat, never stop with the dad jokes. You’ll make all of us go into pun-withdrawal.” Remus carefully sets aside the needles and bounces to his feet. “I’ll go look for him, see if he needs to be pried out of the dragon’s gullet again.”

“Oh, thanks so much, Remus, I really—wait, ‘again?’”

“Gotta blast!”

Honestly, it’s not like Roro is known for missing deadlines, that’s Remus’s thing. Especially when it comes to things like meals and remembering to eat—well, Ro’s not exactly the pinnacle of healthy practices when he get absorbed in his work, but he’s better at it than some people give him credit for. Which means he’s either deep in the middle of something he’s keeping to himself, he’s asleep because the time zones in the Imagination are all kinds of wackadoo, or he really does need to be rescued.

Which isn’t Remus’s thing, come on, Ro, you’re ruining his reputation.

By the time he gets to the Imagination, he’s already pulling out his acid-proof gloves and sharpening his Morningstar. He stops dead, however, when he sees the doors are still locked from last night. That’s weird. Maybe Ro just used his personal gate instead of the main one? But that just takes him right to his little workshop area, that’s not anywhere near where the dragons are…

He’s about to go for his gateway when he hears a quiet noise coming from Roman’s door. Frowning, he turns. Roman’s door is only a few feet away. He glances up and down the hall to make sure none of the resident sneaks are nearby—Janus and Virgil—and knocks on the door.

“Uh, busy!”

“Ro, it’s me.”

“Oh. Did you, um, did you need something?”

“You weren’t at lunch. Pat-Pat’s getting worried.”

He hears a muffled curse and the door glimmers slightly. That’s Roman’s cue that he can sink in. He stows the acid gloves and the Morningstar and sinks in, expecting Roman at his desk or on the floor puzzling over some bit of a story he can’t quite get right, but instead he sees an empty room.

“Where are you?”

“Bathroom.”

Remus pops his head through the door and blinks. “Whoa.”

”Yeah, yeah,” Roman mumbles, already reaching for the bandages curled up on the counter, “you don’t have to say it.”

”That looks—“

“I said you don’t have to say it.”

Remus slams his mouth shut, but he can’t stop staring at the acne. Throbbing red pimples that look like they’re causing Roman pain every time he so much as breathes, bigger whiteheads that have already started to ooze, blackheads that litter every inch of skin that isn’t already covered, some of which look like they’re almost on top of each other…

Roman turns his back on him and hunches his shoulders. “What do you want, Re?”

“I, uh…well, now I want to help.”

Roman laughs. It’s not funny. “There isn’t any helping this. Not until Thomas feels better.”

“Whoa. Back up. What?”

“This.” He waves a hand at his face. “This is a thing, remember?”

“Oh. Oh, right, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Remus scrubs a hand over his face. “Can I help make it less painful while it’s going on?”

There’s a pause. Then Roman’s head turns slightly. “Would you?”

“Shit, yeah,. Roro. You’ve helped me with stuff more times than I can count on my fingers and toes, let me help you.” He gets a small huff that might be an actual that-was-kind-of-funny-I’m-feeling-better laugh. “Yeah?”

“…yeah, okay.”

“Wonder-bats! Okay, I think I still have that stuff from when we had those sores from the poison experiments…where did I put that?”

“Did you leave it in your room or my room?”

”We cleaned up here, so it should be…aha!” He takes a big plastic case from under the sink. “Go sit your perky butt on the edge of the tub, I’ll be right there.”

“…thanks, Remus.”

“What’re brothers for?”

The very first time it had happened, it had been well before Thomas had learned what it was to be attractive.

Remus had found Roman crying in his room, curled up under all the blankets he could find with tissues covering the floor.

“Ro-bro? What happened? Do I need to fight someone for you?”

“It won’t come off!”

“What won’t come off?”

Roman had peered out from under the blanket cocoon and Remus’s mouth had dropped open when he saw the words FREAK and LOSER written all across Roman’s face in permanent marker.

“Who did that? Was it Virgil? I’ll fight him!”

“No,” Roman had sniffled, “it wasn’t—wasn’t Virgil. It wasn’t any of them.”

“Did you do it? That’s more my kinda thing, isn’t it?”

“No!” Roman had wailed. “I didn’t do it! Someone—someone hurt Thomas!”

“Someone hurt Thomas? But nothing happened! We didn’t get into any fights!”

“Not like that! They were just mean. They were really mean and they said he looked ugly and they called him a f-freak and a loser and—and—“

Remus had scurried forward and wrapped his brother in a hug as he broke down in tears. “You’re not a freak or a loser, Roro. Neither is Thomas. They were wrong, you know that, right?”

”Then why won’t it come off?”

Sure enough, up close, Remus had seen the red and raw skin where Roman had scrubbed it with whatever he could find to make the words go away. Bits were even coming off on the blanket as Roman rubbed his cheek against it.

”Hey, hey, stop that. You’re hurting yourself.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care! I don’t like seeing my brother hurt!” Remus had given him a shake. “You don’t have to hurt yourself more on top of this, okay? Come on, come into the bathroom, I’ll help you.”

“Y-you will?”

“Yeah, Roro, come on.”

The twins had gone to the bathroom where towels and washcloths were still strewn around from Roman’s previous attempts. Remus had made Roman sit on the stool and reached for the soap, getting one of the washcloth more suds than cloth and trying to wipe off the words.

“That tastes so bad.”

“So keep your mouth shut.”

“But you keep wiping it over my mouth!”

“No, I’m wiping it over your cheek, which is next to your mouth. And you talking isn’t making it any better, so shush.”

Roman had grumbled silently until Remus accidentally went too roughly over one of the sore spots and Roman yelped.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,. I didn’t mean to.”

“Wash it off! Wash it off!”

“Okay, okay! Come here!”

They had stumbled over to the sink and Remus practically shoved Roman’s head under the tap. He had spluttered and flailed out, splashing Remus.

”Hey! Don’t splash me!”

“I’ll splash you all I want!”

“No, you won’t!”

“Yeah, I will!”

It had…devolved from there.

The bathroom had been sopping wet by the end of it, not a towel nor tile had been spared from the twin’s water war. Their clothes were just as soaked, their hair dripping like they’d just walked through a hurricane. The sink and the bathtub still ran as if nothing were wrong and the detachable shower head in Remus’s hand sprayed as merrily as ever.

”Whoa, hey!”

“What?”

“It’s gone!”

Roman had run to the mirror, touching his face. Sure enough, the words had vanished.

”It is gone!”

”You’re welcome,” and he had taken a big bow with the shower head still spraying everywhere, “I think that means I win.”

“Whoa, wait, no, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.”

”No!”

“Yes!”

It took a while longer for the war to end and even longer for the bathroom to dry.

Someone says Thomas eats too much junk food and Roman can’t stop dripping oil.

Remus finds him sitting on his bathroom floor, the drain in the shower covered with a towel. He’s sitting on towels too, towels soaked and heavy with oil as Roman’s tears fight to get out from his eyes and through the slick covering his skin.

“The others are worried,” he says quietly, lingering in the doorway, “they want to know what’s wrong.”

Roman doesn’t say anything. Remus peers a little closer and sees the telltale sheen over his mouth too. Even just thinking about how it must feel to have that much oil on his lips makes Remus shudder. He summons a washcloth from his own stash and a bottle of soap.

“Just like old times,” he says as he crouches down in front of him, “I’m gonna wash off the oil on your face, okay?”

Roman manages a small nod and Remus gets to work. Normally when he’s washing oil off stuff, he scrubs at it like he’s trying to grind it with sandpaper and the soap foams up around his wrist. But this is Roman, not some metal piece of equipment, so he goes as gently as he can without suffocating him with soap or making no progress at all. He has to stop a few times when Roman lets out a pained noise or winces at the rasp of the cloth, just holding a blotting sheet there to soak up the oil as best he can while he waits for him to settle. He makes a note to work on the heavy duty blotters in case something like this ever happens again.

At last, when Roman looks like he’s about to cry for a very different reason, the space around his lips and nose is clear enough for him to gasp out a few words.

“Sorry, thank you, sorry—“

”Shh-shh, Roro, you don’t need to apologize. Just tell me what you need.”

”’S so gross.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

Roman lets out a frustrated whine and Remus quickly pulls out his phone.

“If you tell me what Thomas needs to stop thinking about I can get Lolo on it.”

“No, then he’ll—“

“I’m not gonna tell him what’s wrong with you, okay? I’m just gonna prod them into getting Thomathy’s brain on the right track away from whatever-the-fuck-this-is-station.”

More oil starts to build up and he shoves his phone in his pocket, working on washing it away again. His presence seems to have calmed Roman down a bit; the oil comes in smaller waves this time, concentrated more around the naturally oily parts of his face rather than every inch of his skin. When he’s cleaned off the areas around his nose and mouth, he goes and starts moving to the rest of his head.

“Junk food,” Roman mumbles, as if saying it too loud would make the oil return with a vengeance, “saying bad stuff ‘bout Thomas…unhealthy…gross…”

Remus whips out his phone and sends a text to Logan about food not having a moral weight and how eating something was always better than eating nothing. He gets a text back a few seconds later that just says on it.

“Lolo cavalry is assembled, he’s going.” He tucks the phone away and keeps washing Roman off. “And I’m gonna stay right here until we get all this oil off you, okay? We can even do your thirteen-step skin care routine once it’s gone.”

“It’s not thirteen steps.”

“Whatever you wanna tell me, Roro, at least you’re not as bad as Snakey.”

It’s the first time Roman manages to laugh that day, and Remus makes sure it isn’t the last.

When Patton and Logan have near simultaneous nervous breakdowns after someone calls Thomas lazy, Remus makes sure Virgil’s wrapped around the Mindscape’s padre and Janus has Logan in his little snake den before he goes off in search of Roman.

The Imagination door is covered in cobwebs that retreat as he approaches, a few spiders waving hello as they disappear. He runs his hand over the keyhole, checking to see if it’s just an affectation, or if Roman really hasn’t been using it. He knows he has, is the thing; Roman’s had more projects on the go this month than he’s ever had before and if it weren’t for Janus and Logan dragging him out of it to make sure he didn’t completely lose touch with the Mindscape, he bets his left barnacle that Roman would’ve been living there too just so he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to keep working. And sure enough, the keyhole glows red as soon as his fingers brush it and he carefully pushes the door open.

He walks into the most statistically average middle class sitcom home he’s ever seen. Needless to say, he hates it.

”Ro? Are you here?”

There’s a faint noise coming from what he guesses is the direction of the living room and listen, as little time as he has to spend in this painfully mediocre place, the better. Seriously, he can feel the whispers of white picket fences and PTA meetings lingering ominously over his shoulder with every second he walks through these beige walls. Snatches of TV dialogue becomes audible as he makes his way through the house.

He comes to a stop.

He tilts his head.

There’s certainly a person in the living room, but it doesn’t really look like Roman. They look like every Sunday cartoon about a husband and wife where it’s terribly misogynistic and heteronormative, recliner out, bag of chips in lap, staring vacantly at the TV. It’s only the fact that they’re crying at the paid advertising programs and that Remus would recognize his brother anywhere that he knows it’s Roman.

He sits down on the plastic covered couch and tries not to look at the soulless photos of smiling families perched on the dusty mantle. Roman doesn’t look away from the screen but the hand nearest Remus twitches slightly.

“Hey,” he calls, and Roman’s head turns a little, “hey, Roro. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

The TV blares something about a crockpot that cooks fancier meals than a normal crock pot.

“I know how shitty it is when people accuse you of being lazy. Especially when they’re just complaining that they haven’t seen anything from you.” He shuffles and the couch squeaks. “And we all know how hard you’re working. How hard Thomas is working.”

Roman’s eyes flick to his. Remus smiles and takes his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“Giving yourself a break isn’t being lazy. Having a hard time doing things isn’t lazy. Not being able to work on something because it’s just covered in the fucking ooze isn’t being lazy. You aren’t being lazy, okay? You wouldn’t even be lazy if you decided you didn’t want to work on any projects for the next year.”

The TV glitches out. Static fills the room and it actually feels like Remus can breathe. He squeezes Roman’s hand again and shifts closer. Roman stares at him with wide eyes.

”I mean it, Roro. You’re not—I know we’ve gone over this and I’ll keep giving you crowbars for as long as you need them—“

The smallest smile appears on Roman’s face.

“—but you’re not—your worth isn’t in what products or content you can make. You know i love you because you’re my brother, because you’re funny and clever and ridiculous and there’s no one I’d rather make stuff with. You could decide that you don’t want anything to do with Thomas’s career anymore—“

Roman makes a devastated noise.

“Calm down, calm down, I know that’s not true, I’m just spouting a wild hypothetical, okay? If you decided to do that and I made sure it was really you and you hadn’t lost some sort of bet, then yeah, I’d still want you to be my brother. We’d still do stuff. I don’t give a shit what everyone else thinks.”

”…promise?”

Remus could sob with relief at actually hearing Roman’s voice come out, and he grins so wide his cheeks start to hurt. “I promise, Roro, I promise. You’re not lazy, you’re resting, and even if you were, I wouldn’t care.”

‘’M not trying to be lazy. It’s—I’m just—“

“Shh, shh, Roro, it’s okay,” The bag of chips falls to the ground and catches fire as Remus tugs his brother into his arms. “I’m right here. You’re doing so good, okay? Thomas is too.”

Remus doesn’t burn the house down because he’s had too many lectures from Janus about that, but he does get a big cartoon wrecking ball to smash the whole thing into smithereens.

He does burn the recliner though. And the plastic-covered couch. They deserved it.

The latex gloves snap on as Roman sits on the edge of the tub with a grunt. He picks up the rest of the kit and sets it on the stool.

”Do you know what it’s about this time?”

“Someone said something about how immature Thomas is being about criticism and how he can’t take care of things, something like that.”

“Why did it manifest as acne, then?”

”I don’t know, maybe something about how teenagers who are hormonal and don’t really know how to take care of their skin get acne?”

Remus snorts. “Do people still not understand that acne happens and can happen to anyone regardless of age?”

‘Apparently not.”

“Well, they can go lick the Kraken’s crack.”

“Ew, Remus.”

“Just trying to keep the mood light.” He picks up one of the cotton swabs and a paper towel and leans down. “I’m gonna try and clean up some of the wet stuff first, okay? Then we can actually get onto some relief.”

“You’re not gonna pop any of them, are you?”

“I don’t think so. At least not right now.”

”Because I really don’t want this to scar.”

Remus hums, carefully running the swab over a particularly inflamed part of his cheek. “Can you give me a pain rating?”

”Like a 6? It’s not that bad but it’s not a pain I’m used to it’s…freaking me out.”

“Understandable, have a nice day. If it ever gets too much, let me know and we’ll switch to a cool pack, okay?”

Roman hums as Remus goes to work. A pile of discarded swabs and other trash accumulates at Remus’s elbow as he works patiently around the various, uh, ‘zones.’ They have to stop a few times when it gets to a point where Roman’s whole face just aches, waiting for it to subside enough that Remus can keep going.

“There are a couple down here that look like they’re ready to go, do you want me to just get ‘em out?”

”Be careful.”

“Sure, yeah. If it starts to hurt lemme know and I’ll back off right away.”

He gets a few of them, a few more putting up too much of a fight so he leaves them be. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman heroically stop two or three whimpers before he lightly jabs him in the stomach and tells him to knock that posturing shit off, he doesn’t need it here.

“…thanks, Re.”

“I told you, it hurts too much, I stop.”

“I know.” He shifts on the tub. “I think it’s just…hard to remember.”

Remus frowns, glancing up at him. Roman fiddles with the hem of his prince costume.

“You know…with the others?”

”No. I don’t know, Ro.”

“They don’t—they’re—they want Princey, Prince Roman. Not…the rest of this.” He waves his hand to indicate the cotton carnage. “So it’s hard to…”

He trails off when he sees the expression on Remus’s face.

“What?”

”You mean they don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That this—“ he waves at Roman— “happens to you. Any of it.”

“I mean, they know I’m the Ego and it makes sense that I get hurt when Thomas feels bad, but—“

”But not how much.” Roman won’t meet his gaze. “Fuck, Ro.”

“…it’s complicated.”

“Shit, no, I’m not—look at me, Ro. I’m not mad at you. I’m just—this wasn’t what I’d hoped.”

Roman frowns. “What do you mean, what you hoped?”

Remus sighs. This is turning into way more of a conversation than he’d ever anticipated. Glancing around, he picks up the cold pack and hands to to Roman before taking a seat on the counter. His legs swing and kick at the cabinets with a quiet thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk.

“When the Split happened, and we went to the Dark Sides, I…dunno, I guess I thought it would be…better.”

“Because we were separated?”

“What? No, no, because I had the stuff like Deceit and Anxiety with me, so they couldn’t make any of this stuff worse—not that they would,” he says when Roman opens his mouth to protest, and wow, have they come a long way, “but just ‘cause…well, yeah. You had Logic and Morality, who were—doesn’t that make sense? That they would be able to help?”

Roman sighs. He picks at the edge of the ice pack. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Logan’s thing is object impermanence, you know that.” Remus winces in sympathy. “But having someone tell you something isn’t real when you can feel it and it is real, to you, that’s not…that’s not helpful. It’s better if he just goes right to Thomas than coming to me.”

“And Patton?”

Roman lets out a humorless huff. “Thomas is feeling bad and Patton is Thomas’s feelings. How do you think that normally goes?”

…yeah, probably not great.

“It’s not all bad,” he continues, softer now, “they’re at least good when I tell them I don’t want to be disturbed. They don’t ask questions if I tell them I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That feels suspiciously like the bare minimum.” Roman shrugs. “I know I literally just said the opposite, but do Janus and Virgil…?”

“They’re both better at comforting the others. It’s okay, Re, I have you. I really only want you when it’s…bad like this.”

“Me? Why?”

“You get it.”

Remus chuckles, getting back up and picking up the next tool. “That simple, huh?”

“Sometimes it’s just that simple.”

”Aw, I love you too, Roro. You’re the specialist baby brother any Side could ever ask for.”

“You—what the hell do you mean, ‘baby brother?’”

“You’re the baby brother.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Now hush so I don’t accidentally poke your eye out.”

“I’m gonna get you back for this.”

“Oh, I’m so scared about that. Now hold still, Roro, let’s get this out of the way so you can feel better.”

“…love you.”

“I love you too.”

+1.

The Imagination is upset. Roman feels it the second he steps foot through the door and forgoes his normal prince costume for a rougher tunic and boots, strapping his sword to his hip and an emergency pack to his back. The wind blows frigid and punishing over the grass as he starts down the trail, squinting through the dust clouds whipping up around him. The clouds frown around the edges of the tree line, darkening to a stormy black near the edge of the coast. As he nears the black cliffs, rocks crumble beneath him and tumble into a churning sea.

He edges carefully around the craggy rock face, keeping his movements light and careful. Spray whips him in the face as thunder rolls in the distance. The chill near rips his fingers from their precarious handholds. He grits his teeth and keeps going, even as the wind howl so loudly his ears near split from the pain.

There, a little ways down the cliff, is a small cove. He inches his way around the edge of the bluff and drops onto a larger path leading him along the coast. There isn’t any sand here, only rough and unyielding stone. Froth and foam given them gleaming white teeth as the waves churn furiously around the mouth of the sea. He follows the path down, down towards he massive cracks in the sheer rock face, one eye on the black water below him. Despite being so close to the shore, there’s no sign of a bottom and he doesn’t want to risk how deep it is. There’s no telling what current might rip him into the open ocean if he falls in.

The cove is shaped like a spear’s point, the crack in the cliff at its very point as though some massive weapon had shattered the rocks themselves. As Roman nears it, the shadow at the base of the path slowly grows more and more defined, until he realizes that it’s a path through the cliff. The cove is an inlet leading into a hidden sea cave with a vast black lake in its center. Roman peers up at the glistening wet walls, hand on the wall as the wind whistles angrily by.

The water moves. He looks down. Something massive slips just underneath the surface, sending ripples to the shore. He crouches down and sees a huge shape getting closer and closer to the surface. An eye the size of a dining table glares up at him through the water and long arms with rows and rows of hooks reach up toward him.

“Ollie, it’s me. It’s Roman.”

The Kraken pause. The hooked arms retreat and he pokes his head up, letting out a mournful burble. Roman reaches over and taps the water. One of his other arms comes up and Roman pets soothingly along the skin.

“What’s the matter, buddy? What’s going on?”

Ollie burbles again and Roman suddenly realizes why the hooked arms were the ones to reach for him. Beneath the surface, the Kraken’s arms form a cradle of sorts, holding something close to the Kraken’s massive body. As the water shifts and ripples, the thing comes closer and closer to surface, slowly moving to reveal its precious cargo.

And there, nestled in the Kraken’s grip, covered in his own writhing tentacles, is Remus.

“Oh, Re,” Roman murmurs as his brother twitches and whimpers, “what happened? Who did this?”

Ollie burbles again, holding him out, and Roman balances on the edge of the shoreline and stretches to hold on. The Kraken lifts him up and into the cradle too, letting him touch Remus’s frigid skin and shake him awake.

“Re? Re, wake up, it’s okay, I’m here to help.”

The tentacles writhe as Remus stirs, blinking through a pained haze up at Roman. “…Ro?”

“Hey, Re, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. What happened?”

“Thoughts got too loud.” A tentacle leaves a thick trail of slime across his arm and he shudders. “Sorry.”

“What could you have to be sorry for?”

“‘S gross.”

“You stop that,” Roman chides gently, running his fingers through Remus’s wet hair, “I don’t care if something’s gross, I care if it’s hurting you.”

Remus whimpers, clutching at one of Ollie’s arms. The Kraken squeaks back, trying in vain to warm him up, but there’s only so much he can do in this freezing cave. Roman glances around and bites his lip.

“Does it feel better in the water? Is that why you came down here?”

“Yeah. Ollie came and f-found me.”

Roman pats the worried Kraken. “What do we need to do? Is it like caring for Ollie’s arms?”

“N-no. Like helping the jelly—jellyfish with the twisted—twisted ones.”

He’ll bet just about anything that this frigid water isn’t helping Remus do that, and it’s not like Ollie has opposable thumbs. He goes to slide into the water himself but Ollie chirps in alarm, hoisting them higher.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m trying to help.“

Remus shakes his head, more slime trailing across his shivering body. “Too cold for you.”

“Well, then it’s definitely too cold for you. Can we get you somewhere warmer?” Remus curls up a little more. “What about that pool near the glowstone trees?”

“That’s all the way on your side.”

“Ollie can take you. I’ll meet you over there.” Remus stays quiet. Roman leans down and brushes the wet hair from his eyes. “What else is bothering you, Re?”

Two of the tentacles glob onto Roman and start leaving trails of slime across his tunic. Remus whimpers and reaches out a hand to yank them away. It’s no use; the roiling mass just keeps smearing slime onto Roman as they try to pull him closer, no matter how hard Remus shoves them away.

Oh.

“Re, you’re not too gross. You’re not going to ruin anything. I want you to come with me so I can help you. I care about you. Let me help, please?”

It takes a painfully long moment for Remus to peek up at him and nod. Roman can’t stop the way his shoulders sag in relief and he sits up, patting Ollie’s arm as the Kraken burbles happily.

“You…you really wanna help?”

“Of course I wanna help you, Re, you’re my brother.”

“Okay.”

“Have Ollie take you over to the pool, okay? I’ll meet you there.”

“How are you gonna get there?”

“I have my ways.”

Remus grumbles and he sounds just enough like his normal self that Roman has to reach down and ruffle his hair, no matter how much Remus squawks about it. He climbs back off to the shore and watches Ollie sinks below the surface before he makes his way out to the ocean proper. Taking the charm from beneath his tunic, he closes his eyes and concentrates.

A screaming cry and the massive thudding of wings splits the wind.

Roman’s dragon lands just on the other side of the bluffs and he climbs on, taking off and soaring over the stormy sea. The dragon calls out over the waves and far beneath, he can see the shape of Ollie swimming through the depths. The clouds begin to part as they near the opposite coast, sun rays splitting the worst of the storm as the glowing trees appear on the horizon.

Roman’s dragon sets him down just on the edge of the shimmering pool. He pats its snout and it huffs, lying down on the sun-warmed grass and closing its eyes. As he walks toward the pool and begins to take off his boots, he spots Ollie’s shade moving through the inlet into the warmer water. He chuckles at the way the water vibrates with the Kraken’s pleased rumble.

Clad in just his boxers, he slips into the water and through the tangle of arms to draw Remus into the warmth. Remus immediately tuns and clings to him like a limpet, shivering from the temperature change.

“I know, I know,” Roman murmurs as he starts to work his hands patiently through the mass of tentacles, “just hold onto me. I can still kind of stand here, I’ve got you.”

”You gonna take care of me?”

“Yeah, Re, I’m gonna take care of you.”

He’s rewarded with a sleepy hum and Remus snuggles into him. “You’re the best.”

“No, you’re the best. The best baby brother anyone could ever ask for.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Remus might mutter an am not back, but it’s muffled by his tired slump into Roman’s arms. Roman just chuckles. He’s sure it’ll come up again at some point.

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus

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