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sidespart · 3 years

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The Fall of King Romulus Part 9

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him… Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

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Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Roman kept his back straight and his gaze cold and aloof as he watched his proclamation sink in.

It was a simple thing, to be Romulus again.

Virgil and Patton had been sent to fight and die by their Kings. Roman had listened to Logan rant, many times, about his distain of the noble classes and their control over the common men. Whatever affection they had for Roman – it wouldn’t extend to Romulus.

They would leave.

“Well yes,” Logan said, sounding annoyed “I was getting to that.”

“What?!” Roman shrieked.

“Not require our services?” Virgil stared at him incredulously, “Didn’t we hire you?”

“Logan, you knew?” Patton said admiringly, “You’re so smart!”

“Oh, he did not.” Roman grumbled.

“Well.” Logan shuffled his feet, not looking directly at him, “The Marquis de Ornella called you Romulus. And you attempted to call him by his first name, so I assumed you knew each other- a noble connection was not out of the question.”

“Ha!” Roman pointed at him, vindicated “But you didn’t guess I was a prince, did you?”

“Well, no-” Logan looked on the verge of pouting.

“What services are we even providing? In this scenario?”

“-but If I had had time to do more research then- “

“You know what! That’s a great idea.” Patton smiled brightly, “I think we could all use a little cool down time – Logan why don’t you go back to the library and read up on Nothalevaele”.

“Notaleveale.” Logan corrected.

Patton frowned. “It’s not -aleveale? I swear that’s what he said.”

“It’s not Nothalevaele it’s Notaleveale”.

“Then what is it?”

Roman stuffed most of his good hand into his mouth to muffle a scream.

“Seriously.” Virgil smirked at him even as he leant over to adjust Roman’s pillow. “You just can’t get service like this anywhere else.”

Roman glared at him.

“He-” Virgil jerked his head at Logan, utterly unbothered by Roman’s glare – “shouldn’t go to the library alone.”

Patton nodded seriously and gave Vigil a wide smile.

Virgil glared back.

Patton raised both eyebrows.

Virgil folded his arms.

“No one needs to go anywhere – I told you I’m leaving.” Roman complained.

They ignored him.

Eventually whatever silent argument the two men were having ended with Virgil rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Go find your bag.” He told Logan, who nodded jerkily and all but fled the room.

Roman flopped back against the pillows with a thump, too tired to maintain his princely posture any longer. “He can go by himself, can’t he,” he muttered sulkily, “we’re not actually kids.”

Virgil and Patton exchanged another glance before Virgil turned away to the bedside table, fussing with his pots and potions.

“We’re not sure how many guards got a look at our faces before we got out of the bathhouse.” Patton told him, “Better not to risk traveling alone.”

“Oh.” Roman replied, his voice small.

He remembered the bathhouse. The screams from above. Virgil’s panic-stricken face as he glanced between them and the stairs. Logan with a blade at his throat.

He swallowed hard and cast his eyes down, picked idly at a loose thread of the blanket.

“We should be back before the bandages needs changing, but if you smell anything or see any new pus there’s some ointment left in this one.” Virgil held up a blue-green jar for Patton to see, “Just wash it out first with boiled water.”

“Pus!” Roman squeaked, looking up.

“Your hand was pretty screwed up.” Virgil told him gruffly, “The infection’s what gave you the fever. You need to drink more willow tea, at least one cup every hour – we’ll have to pick up some more salve whilst we’re out.” This last part he directed at Patton, who dutifully rummaged in their stack of bags and handed over their coin purse.

It looked worryingly empty. Roman remembered the extra nights they had booked at the inn – nights which they clearly hadn’t even ended up using - and winced.

“We should look for some road food too, Virgil continued “and a map if we’re really going nor – Oh!” He looked at Roman, eyes wide “Er – about the tea, I mean, you need to drink it every hour but only If you -want to? I mean you definitely should but” he waved his hands as if trying to physically shape the instruction into something optional. “You get it.”

Roman bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and tried to ignore the fondness bubbling up inside him. He had hardly even noticed the order.

“How long was I asleep?” He asked.

“Nearly two days.” Patton said softly. “You really scared us for a minute there kiddo.”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, “And- thank you. For taking care of me.”

“Aw Roman! You don’t have to be sorry for anything!” Patton said, “Or thank us – that’s what family’s for.”

“You’re not my family.” Roman said quietly, thinking of his father’s cool detachment and a castle full of empty rooms.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah whatever. Listen you gotta – you should eat. And sleep some more. And we are going to have to talk about all this when we’re back, okay Ro – er, Romulus?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Jeez do we have to call you that now?”

“I think it’s a nice name.” Patton interjected “It’s very umm. Regal.”

“Surely ‘Princey’ still works as a nickname?" Logan asked, returning to the room. He threw a pale green coat at Virgil, who made a face but obediently shrugged it on, pulling an orange knit cap down over the pointed tips of his ears.

Almost as an afterthought, he licked is thumb and rubbed at the dark kohl under each eye. He smirked down at Roman. “You ran away from being a prince and called yourself ‘Princey’?

“You called me that.” Roman said sulkily, deciding not to tell Virgil that he’d only succeeded in smearing the make-up.

“Umm.” Logan stood at the head of the bed. Roman braced himself for another round of interrogation, twisting the blanket between his hands. “I suspect I should apologise for– I was just trying to test my hypothesis before started making outlandish accusations. Obviously, I didn’t realise how long you have been dealing with- I mean, it’s actually quite impressive you maintained your sanity for this long given that-”

“Okay! Less talking!” Virgil declared, as Romans knuckles started to turn white. The elf slung one arm around Logan’s shoulders, propelling him towards the door.

“I was only trying to-”

“Later.”

The door closed behind them with a resounding thud.

“So” Patton said after a moment, casually reaching out with one thumb to wipe away the tears collecting in the bard’s eyes, “Would you like food first or a nap?”

***

The library of Steveange was the crowning jewel of the city. A towering hexagonal building that sat upon the cities highest peak, directly across from the gates to the royal palace.

Which meant the journey was almost all uphill.

Typical.

Virgil huffed, breathing heavily as he stomped his way through the streets, Logan practically trotting to keep up with his long strides.

Prince Romulus of Notaleveale.

Honestly, what the fuck.

At least it explained the whole armed guards thing.

Except actually it explained nothing because if you found a runaway member of the royal family, why in the hell would you then tie them up in a bathhouse basement?

Unless they were traitors working against the royal family – but then why go after a runaway prince at all? Ransom? They hadn’t exactly looked strapped for cash….

And why a bathhouse? Why not one the extremely defensible manor houses that were scattered throughout the upper echelons of the city??

Virgil let out a growl of frustration and came to a stop.

Roman’s injuries had been too systematic to have come from a fight. The northerners had tortured him.

And now he wanted to go back there?

It didn’t make any sense…unless of course the kidnappers had ordered him to go back…

Virgil took a deep breath and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to banish that thought. If he started thinking about the curse again he was going to lose it; end up in a spiral of what had they done and what had they missed and HOW were they supposed to protect him if-

“Virgil? Do you need me to count for seven?”

He forced his eyes open to meet Logan’s worried face and let out the breath he’d been holding in a rush.

“I’m good.” He told the younger man unconvincingly.

“We could go back-” Logan started, but Virgil shook his head.

As much as he bristled at being managed, he didn’t think Patton had been wrong to split the group.

Roman – or whatever they were calling him now– was barley recovered. He’d looked so small, propped up against the pillows without a lute or sword or smile between himself and the world.

Small and scared. And puffing himself up like a songbird trying to look big for a cat.

The four of them yelling for answers at once was only going to freak him out more. Patton had a much better chance getting information out of him one on one.

Still…

“You think we’re going got get anything useful out of this trip?” he asked Logan bluntly.

“The library of Stevenage is one of the greatest collections of written knowledge on the entire continent and in times of uncertainty, knowledge is our greatest weapon... and our greatest defence.” Logan told him, a serious look in his eye.

“Right.” Virgil nodded absently, “Do you think they’ve got a copy of ‘curse breaking for idiots?”

***

Roman woke up for the second time that day with a throbbing headache on top of his other aches and pains. He spent a few minutes cursing himself for not taking up Patton’s offer of willow tea before he’d gone back to sleep and then swung his legs out of the bed.

He needed to get up. He needed to relieve himself and wash and eat and and-

And figure out what to do next.

He needed to know if Remus was safe. If he was on the throne or locked up somewhere or worse.

Which meant going home.

Which meant getting away from his friends.

No one else was going to get hurt because of him and his petty little problems.

Nodding decisively to himself he sprung to his feet. And then swiftly sat back down as the world tilted alarmingly around him.

“Roman?” There was a polite knock at the door and Patton stuck his head in.

“Hey kiddo!” the big man smiled at him, “Are you hungry?”

Roman felt his heart rate speed up and tried to summon some of Romulus’ cool detachment. Patton knew about his curse. If anyone learned about his curse, they would try to exploit it. They would use it to hurt his family, to hurt-

Roman bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of anxiety. This was Patton.

Roman was more likely to be a burden to him then an opportunity.

Before he could manage to come up with a suitable greeting his stomach growled, loudly, making him blush and Patton laugh.

“Shall I bring something up? Or do you want to come sit at the table?”

“…Table.” Roman mumbled, keeping his eyes locked somewhere in the vicinity of Patton’s left ear. Even though he knew, in his head and in his heart, that Patton wasn’t going to hurt him - he still felt oddly vulnerable with his secret sitting between them. Attempting eye contact made something inside him twist uncomfortably.

His mother had always said Romulus was shy.

If Patton noticed his odd behaviour he didn’t mention it, nor did he insist on carrying Roman down the stairs or otherwise manhandling him. Instead he hovered at his elbow as he made his way from the room, keeping up a running commentary of the house as they descended the stairs.

The room that Roman had been staying in was the attic. Immediately outside the door was a set of stairs so steep they may as well have been a ladder. Patton must have been perched out here, Roman thought guilty, giving him space but close enough to hear him get up. At the base of these stairs was a short landing where most of the items normally stored in the attic were now haphazardly stacked.

“That’s Mama’s room.” Patton nodded at a closed door, as he gingerly ducked under a rolled-up carpet which was wedged against the wall. “And that’s the store cupboard”. At the base of the next steep flight was a hallway Roman recognised: kitchen at one end, main door at the other. There was another door opposite the stairs that he hadn’t noticed on his first visit, with a moon and stars motif painted at eye level.

“That’s her work room.” Patton told him, seeing Romans curious glance, “She’s asked us to stay out of there- it’s where she sees customers.”

Customers. Roman filed that thought away. He had almost forgotten they were in a witch’s house.

Patton took him straight through the kitchen, where a back door led into a narrow garden. The herb bed was surprisingly neat, given the haphazard nature of the house, with small labels pinned neatly next to each plant. At the far end were two wooden structures. “Storage shed.” Patton pointed, “Outhouse. Do you need help using it?”

Roman shook his head vehemently - clung to Patton’s arm briefly when the movement made him dizzy – and stomped to the outhouse to relieve himself.

After a few steps though he stopped.

Patton knew about the curse. And Patton wouldn’t hurt him so-

He could ask.

“Pat?“

“Yeah?” Patton – or at least his ear – looked concerned.

“I. um. My arm is…”

Virgil had instructed him to keep his arm still in his sling until the herbs had done their work and clearly, they hadn’t happened yet. The thing was still pinned across his chest.

Not that he couldn’t navigate the outhouse one handed if he had too. But his balance wasn’t exactly great at the moment and tripping in there was one humiliation he would have liked to avoid.

But then again, it’s not like his hand was any use. He would really just be freeing up the use of his elbow and why was even bothering Patton with something so stupid and embarrassing an-

“Roman. Hold your… hold your whole body however you like.”

He nodded jerkily as his shoulder relaxed for the first time since waking up, letting his arm drop a little lower.

He didn’t look at Patton as he made his escape to the outhouse.

***

When he returned Patton had pulled a tin bathtub from who-knows-where onto the slab of paving stone by the kitchen door and was testing the water’s temperature with his elbow.

“Virgil left us some potions.” He told Roman as he approached – “This is another one to help healing and this-” he held up a red tinted bottle “-should give us bubbles!”

Roman stared at the bath almost hungrily. Hot water was a luxury under normal circumstances and between the travel, the bath house and the fever he knew he must reek of sweat and dirt. Surely, he deserved a little pampering before the journey North?

“It’s still too hot.” Patton warned him before he could launch himself into the water. Instead, the other man gestured to a pretty wrought iron table and two chairs set against the left side fence. He produced bread and jam alongside a mug of tea, advising him to eat slowly as went to grab another bucket of water from the cauldron simmering away in Tay’s kitchen.

Although Patton had been careful not to make an order, Roman still made sure he followed his instructions carefully. He had no desire to make himself sick. Or to make more work for the other man.

He pulled his bread apart into small bites and ate them one at a time, watching Patton critically as he limped his way back to the table.

“Did you get hurt…in the bathhouse?”

“…A few bruises.” Patton told him honestly, spreading a thick layer of jam on his own bread, “Nothing too bad”

“I’m sorry.” Roman said again, pulling his remaining bread into smaller and smaller pieces.

“Ro-man!” Patton said cheerfully – “you don’t need to apologise! It was those Ornelly guys that hit me not you!”

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.”

Roman hunched and cursed himself. Sorry sorry sorry. Couldn’t he say anything useful?

“Roman hey – can you look at me please?”

It took more effort than he would have liked, but Roman did. Patton’s eyes were big and blue and very, very kind. Roman jerked his gaze away immediately.

“None of us blame you for what happened. Okay?”

“You got hurt because of me.” Roman blurted. “Logan nearly died- “

“I told you, that was on the Ornellans, not you-“

“Who were there specifically because of me! That excuse doesn’t work Pat I-“

He cut himself off, eyes glued to the floor once more. Hadn’t he just decided he didn’t want to cause any more trouble?

“Sorry.”

He heard Patton sigh and tried not to flinch, but when the other man spoke his voice was still gentle. “How many bubbles do you want?”

***

Whenever Virgil got upset, he always wanted space. It was something Patton found difficult, as his instinct was to smother the other man with affection until he smiled again, but experience had given him the patience to wait until his friend was ready.

When Logan got upset, he always claimed he needed space – but what he really wanted was an audience. He needed to talk through the problem, often at length, and know that someone was listening, even if he didn’t always want their advice.

Roman though – Roman liked attention. Roman liked fuss and pampering and his favourite food and to know, demonstrably, that someone was worried about him.

It didn’t mean he was great at asking for it. Patton remembered vividly his insistence on hopping half a mile on a twisted ankle before Patton had all but begged him to accept a piggyback.

He also remembered a time after a poorly received show when Roman had spent the evening sulking, sighing loudly and dramatically and slumping against each of them in turn until Patton had laughingly pulled him into a hug. Oh my god Vigil had snarked were you not hugged enough as a child?

It had been funny. At the time. Sort of.

Not so much now.

Since lying back against the tub’s rim would aggravate the wounds on his back, Roman was hunched forward in the tub, his bandaged arm hanging over the edge.

“Did I ever tell you how Virgil and I met?” Patton asked, settling on his knees next to the tub.

Roman twitched. There was a tactic agreement amongst the four of them not to discuss their pasts. This was more than fine with Patton, who was much more concerned with making new, happy memories then revisiting old ones, but he didn’t blame Roman and Logan for being curious.

Whenever the pair were on watch together, conversation often turned to whispered debate over the southern pair’s origin. Whilst he felt a bit bad for pretending to be asleep, Patton quite enjoyed their speculation.

His favourite was the circus performer theory. Virgil would probably has made a good acrobat.

“It was in the war.” he continued, scooping up some of the water and wetting Roman’s hair.

“I um. I volunteered you know? All the boys in my town did. I think we thought- well I know I thought it was the right thing to do. Finaley’ed was the enemy after all, we had to keep our families safe.”

He chuckled sadly, focusing on making sure every strand of Roman’s hair was damp before gently capturing a handful of bubbles and placing them on the other man’s head.

“Made you a crown.” he giggled.

Roman turned just enough to peak at him incredulously through one eye and Patton winced.

“Right. Sorry.”

Roman turned away again but Patton though he saw him suppressing a smile. Score!

“Um anyway” – he poured a measure of oil from one of Virgil’s bottles and rubbed it between his fingers before leaning over to begin massaging Roman’s scalp – “It was okay at first. I was in a regiment with all my friends, it was a bit of an adventure honestly.”

“And then there was this Major. He came to inspect us before we got done training and he – he said I was good. That I should get a chance to really make a difference in the war.”

He dragged his fingers through Roman’s hair, gently detangling the strands.

“He put me in a new regiment. All big guys. Like me. And they- they gave us this – I’m not even sure what it was. My buddy Micha used to say it was ground up swamp frogs but I don’t know.”

He started scooping up water again, rinsing some of the bubbles and oil from Roman’s hair.

“It made us…strong. Angry. Scary. Berserk well– that was the point. I don’t. um.” Some of the water sloshed over his cupped palms and Patton realised he was shivering.

“I killed a lot of people…. I mean I definitely made a difference to them.” He finished bitterly.

“…s’not your fault.” Patton glanced up to see Roman had twisted to look at him, was doing his best to maintain eye contact despite Patton’s confession. Patton smiled at him. Roman really was a sweet kid.

“It’s what I signed up for kiddo. Just faster.”

He sighed, nudging Roman gently to turn around so that he could finish rinsing his hair. “I’m not. I’m not saying it’s the same as what you’ve gone through. I know it isn’t. Just – I get it. A little. What it’s like not having any control.”

For a moment they sat in silence, the only sound the trickle of water as Patton continued lifting handfuls to Roman’s scalp.

Then the bard let out a shuddering breath and said: “My major’s name was Julius.”

“Oh?” Patton whispered.

“He was my dad’s friend. He was supposed to find a way to break the curse, but he didn’t. Then he just…started helping me figure out how to live with it. He was helping me. He was supposed to be…”

Roman took a deep breath “He’s the reason I-ack.” He broke off, coughing. Patton reached forward to hold him up, alarmed.

“Ro?”

“I’m okay.” But he didn’t look it, red faced and scowling. “I-” he gripped Patton’s arm looking right into his eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

Patton nodded slowly, understanding. “You can’t – not because you don’t want to.”

Roman nodded.

Patton frowned. “Can I – could I order you too? I could undo what Virgil said about your arm right?”

Roman sighed shaking his head. “The curse is. It’s fickle. But words are important -if you don’t know what you’re contradicting it’s almost impossible and Julius he – he was very good at giving orders.”

“Right.” Patton frowned. “What if I guess? Like Logan figured out the curse?”

“You can try.” Roman laughed bitterly.

“Hmm okay – was he the reason you left home?”

Roman span around so quickly water splashed over the side of the tub. “Patton! How’d you know?”

“Well gee kiddo! The frog pills didn’t rattle too many cells loose!” Patton laughed tapping the side of his head. Then frowned. “Well, I hope not…”

Roman winced. “Patton I – I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

“Well.” Patton smiled sadly, “Likewise Ro-Romulus.”

The other man sighed, sinking low in the tub again. “I liked being Roman.” he blurted out suddenly, a look of abject misery on his face.

“Then – why stop?” Patton whispered.

“I-” He frowned. “I would like to not be naked for this conversation.”

“That’s fair.” Patton nodded and helped him to his feet.

***

By the time Roman was up, towelled off and dressed in one of Patton’s old shirts that he had long ago claimed as a sleep shirt, he looked about ready to pass out again. Patton left him sitting at the table to finish drying in the sunshine whilst he dashed upstairs to change the sheets on the attic bed. When he returned with the laundry pile, he found that Mittens had emerged and settled himself on the bard’s– the prince’s – lap.

Roman looked up at him guilty - “Your allergies.”

“It’s easier outside.” Patton waved him off. Mittens had been the key to them finding Roman, as far as Patton on was concerned, the cat’s comfort was worth a few sneezes.

He took a seat at the table and nudged the remaining bread towards Roman, who took it hungrily, eating with much more enthusiasm than before the bath.

“So you were saying...” Patton prompted.

Roman pouted at him, cheeks stuffed with bread.

“’u first.” he swallowed, “You never got to how you met Virgil. Was he in the berserkers – in the special regiment too?”

“Oh, no.” Patton shook his head vehemently. “Virgil wasn’t like me. He was a conscript – for the other side.”

An exceptionally fat bumble bee had found Tay’s herb garden and was repeatedly bouncing off the side of some chives. Patton focused on the bewildered looking insect rather than Roman’s face and his finished the story.

“A small group of us had got separated from the rest. It was quite deep in the forest, away from the main battle. We were meant to find their camp and pick them off there, but we couldn’t find them. And then we couldn’t find the way back.”

The bee, finally free of the chives, crashed headfirst into a Rosemary bush.

“It was like… like my blood was on fire. We hadn’t been so long without it before. And then...”

“And then?”

“We stumbled on a group of them. Of Finaley’ii soldiers. And there was a fight.” Patton closed his eyes. Screams and sobs and blood on his sword and in his eyes and Micha gasping uselessly around the arrow in his throat “I don’t remember it much. But when it was over it was like I…woke up.”

He smiled.

“And there he was. Virgil. Pointing s crossbow right at my face.”

“He what!” Roman yelped and Patton laughed.

“Well, we were on opposite sides kiddo and I had just…well. The thing was, it was only us left then. No one was ordering to kill each other and so we just…didn’t. Neither of us was in any big rush to find our armies again so….”

“Virgil asked me to help him find his mom, so we headed east. We couldn’t find her, so he said he’d help me find my town and we went west. That was gone too.”

“The whole town?” Roman as looking at him with sorrowful eyes.

“That’s the problems with wars kiddo – they don’t stay in one place.”

“What about your family?”

Patton shrugged. Mittens hopped down from Roman’s lap and began to stalk the errant bee.

“Maybe they got away. I hope so.” He glanced at Roman again. “Virgil was the one who suggested we keep going west. Get away entirely, see if we could find any refugees, look for our families.” He smiled fondly. “He’s always been the brave one, not me.”

“And – and did you?” Roman asked. He was bent forward, eyes fixed on Patton’s own.

“No.” Patton sighed. “I like to think they’re safe and sound somewhere. Set up a new house, found new people to care for. Like I did. But… “

He trailed off. But most likely they were dead. Like Patton should be.

“What if…if you knew where they were.” Roman said quietly, “Would you go see them- check on them?”

Patton rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the multitude of scars that littered the right side. “I don’t know.” He told Roman honestly. “I would like to know if they were okay but…I don’t know if they’d want to see me.”

Roman nodded.

On the other side of the garden, there was a sudden yowling from the rosemary bush. Mittens came charging towards them with his tail fluffed up and circled Roman’s chair twice before leaping onto the fence.

Patton giggled – “Well that’s what you get for trying to fight a bee you silly cat!”

“I think my brothers in danger.” Roman said in a rush.

Patton blinked.

“Your brother?”

He was back to staring down. Both fists clenched tightly together. “I left him. Back home. I thought I-” he coughed again. “I thought he would be safe but now I’m not sure.”

“In danger from what kiddo?”

“From Julius.” Roman breathed. “I saw him. Or. Or I think I did.”

Slowly, haltingly, Roman told him about meeting the Marquis. About the bathhouse basement and the northern soldiers and the figure he called the grey man who had slipped in and out of Julius’ face.

Patton did his best to keep his own face clam as Roman casually described being forced to hurt himself, even as his own knuckles turned white from his grip on the chairs’ arm.

“He said he had sent Lucius to the inn after some – some escaped prisoner? And he found me. But Lucius knew about the curse and he never did before so- “

“Roman?” Patton interrupted. “Sorry - can I give you a hug?”

“Oh!” Roman blinked at him, blushing slightly, “If you – if you want to?”

“I really do.” Patton scrambled to his feet, wrapping the younger man in his arms and feeling Roman sag against him. He resisted the urge to squeeze, mindful of his injuries. “You’re safe now.” He whispered. “I gottcha.”

Roman giggled wetly against his chest. “Julius. He said he’d assumed I’d died.” He mumbled. “But now that he knows I’m around? He’ll try again Pat I know he will. I- “

He drew back, looking up at Patton with tear filled eyes. “I can’t risk you all getting hurt because of me.”

“That’s not your decision to make Roman.” Patton told him softly. “We think you’re worth the risk.”

“But I’m not Roman.” He whimpered. He hadn’t relinquished his grip on Patton, who began to run his hand soothingly up and down the prince’s back.

“Well, if we’re being technical, I’m not Patton.” Patton rested his head on top of Roman’s own. “Me and Vigil picked new names after we left the war and I – I like being Patton.”

There was a pause. Roman squeezed a little tighter.

“I like Patton too.”

Patton laughed; some tension he hadn’t realised he was holding draining away. When Roman drew back this time, he had a shaky smile on his face.

“So.” He stepped back, wiping his eyes with the back of his wrist. “I need to…go back north. Check on my brother. Avoid Julius and Lucius and anyone connected with Romulus. You sure that’s worth the risk?”

“Yep!” Patton said instantly. “And we need to break the curse!”

“I guess.” Roman shrugged. “I really do think it’s impossible Pat’.”

“Eh.” Patton waved a hand dismissively “That’s never stopped Logan before.”

When Roman laughed then, he almost sounded like himself.

If you enjoyed this chapter please hit ~ reblog ~

#roman sanders #patton sanders #royality #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #creativitwins #sanders sides #ts: fall of Romulus #this chapter ended up ENORMOUS #i had to cut it in two #rip analogical library times we will get to you next week.#sidespart writes

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leamy-world · 3 years

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Some afterthoughts on The Devil Judge (spoilers for all the drama!)

Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing well!!

I wanted to write my thoughts after the finale aired because ep. 13-14 made me a mess and were too nerve-wracking! After these two episodes, i only wanted the week to go by fast to see how the finale unfolded (but at the same time, this drama entertained me sm i didn’t want it to end haha).

Watching this drama each week and reading your reactions and thoughts made me enjoy it even more, i’m glad i came back on tumblr! It was a really nice ride (more like an emotional rollercoaster haha)! It motivated me to write my thoughts and analyses on fictions i watched in the future, especially My Mister and Beyond Evil!! I forgot how much fun it was to do that and putting my thoughts into words gave me a little closure to my watch haha

These are just some afterthoughts & personal interpretations i had and were maybe probably already discussed, but i couldn’t get them out of my head haha

See you around and take care!!!

THE CAST. It left a strong impression on me and i can’t see other actors playing their respective roles!

— Yohan portrayed by Ji Sung … i have no words, this devil judge left me speechless! His character, to his Devilish Smile (and hollow laugh in front of CKH and his son, or Gaon), his variating voice intonations (like damn, he’s a living ASMR like Lee Sung Kyung), his held back emotions and touch-starved and even desperate touches when it came to Elijah and Gaon, to his rage and unhinged moments!

I winced seeing him contort in pain when Sunah revealed Elijah accidentally lit the church fire, and the two times he hugged Elijah totally destroyed me. His last scene with Gaon showed how gazes & micro-expressions alone could convey unspoken words as strongly. I’m weak for these kinds of scenes, My Mister for example did it and killed me haha

For this post, i rewatched some scenes and damn, Elijah and Yohan’s support of Gaon after Soohyun’s death was really emotional …

(They had no business in making Gaon have this kind of dream, those german scissors left a ... strong impression on him haha)

— Kim Min Jung’s depiction of Sunah’s was hauntingly beautiful, a femme fatale who kept a broken child deep inside (and at the same time surfacing on her manners and personality) and a strong businesswoman. It’s a fascinating character i loved hating as a villain but still sympathized with. The scene where she murdered the former foundation’s president sent me chills down my spine (i still have her shot of her, sitting at his bureau and manipulating his speech video)!

The melancholy slipping through her facade when she visited the mansion the first time in a while, as well as her devastation in front of the President’s scheme, by the young girl’s bed at the hospital were memorable. The tension between her and Yohan was incredible: they both managed to keep a very disturbing but enthralling aura, tangled with nostalgia at the same time each time they met.

(Looking at her reflection is a recurring pattern for Sunah’s character, i found this shot above interesting, divided in the two ends of the mirror, as if her self can’t be found on the other side anymore)

— This was the first time i saw a drama with Jin Young and i really loved his playing! Never thought I’d say one day i enjoyed someone’s tears and rage on screen, but his crying scenes stuck with me, especially in the prison yard and the last episode (he deserves therapy after all he went through, really) … And his letter to Elijah … (i’m glad nobody harshly revealed the truth to her, i’m really glad!)

I loved to see how his gaze evolved through this journey with Yohan. His endearment to Soohyun, Elijah and Yohan was very precious ;; Even though Yohan was the one who was first seen feeling lonely, Gaon’s loneliness since his parents’ death slipped through his seemingly fine world, i found that interesting! (And on a lighter note, i’ll always remember the truth behind Mrs. Ji’s cooking, Gaon’s epic reaction, and the pure comedy she gets to own a healthy food shop thanks to Yohan!!)

I also enjoyed his supportive friendship with Jinjoo!!

— Park Gyu Young’s acting was also on point! It’s really too bad she didn’t get more screen time because i wanted to know more about Soohyun!! I felt robbed haha, because when TDJ began airing, they introduced her as one of the ‘main’ characters of this story ;; The scene when she was on CKH’s suicide scene really left a mark on me + when she was confronting Yohan, especially after she took Elijah out!

— Elijah. Just Elijah, our best girl!!! Apparently it’s one of Jeon Chae Eun’s first roles, she did so well!! Along with Ji Sung and Jin Young, she gave a whole new definition to the Domestic Scenes, i swear. These scenes will keep a special place in my heart for a long time! Her adorable smile and cheekiness were a refresher in this show!

(They could change TDJ’s concept in a second season and make us a domestic slice of life series, i wouldn’t mind AT ALL! Take my money!!)

Seeing her complicated relationship with her uncle unfold before us deeply moved me. The complete loneliness she silently depicted moving to her bed in the wheelchair, after Gaon left the mansion was heart-wrenching. And also the scenes after Soohyun’s death, hurting with Yohan seeing Gaon’s pain (the way she spoke her worry for the two of them, Yohan couldn’t let the words out properly to Gaon).

— CKH’s character, played by Jang Young Nam, was amazing. Her acting already shattered me when i watched Nobody Knows! Her cold gaze, her harsh tone, she was badass i have to admit!

The narcissistic rage was well depicted in her character, and even though i get where many’s opinions on her death come from (i share it too sometimes, but i feel it more for Sunah), i found this final decision fitting to the character, especially if you look how she treated her own son (each hold felt like a grip from rage eg. in ep. 3, as she maybe felt her son was the cause of her demise).

(HUGE SPOILERS FOR BEYOND EVIL BELOW!!!!)

She reminded me of HKH’s ending: seeing his path to success was crushed with no way out of it except death on his own accord (in his eyes, because it was his absolute life aim, every single being, to his own wife and son, and means, even bending the justice independence, were his expendable ways to pave his path), HJW’s father was set on suicide before his son barged in.

(Funnily enough, the filming spot for CKH’s house is the same for HKH’s house haha)

— And also … Lawyer don’t-worry-i’ll-get-you-out-on-probation Ko deserves a round of applause for the best lawyer he is hahaha

THE STORY’S DEVELOPMENTS (AND SCRIPT). I feel like this story could very well have been developed on 20+ episodes! Even if i know some scenes in a script are sometimes (bound to be) cut in the drama, TDJ’s script leaks make me feel there was SO much more to be told, and so much more to explain some plot events in the airing drama!

Because the story was ambitious, both character and plot(twists which give you whiplash)-driven (and also the filming context with the pandemic), i feel like some choices were made.

The lines of thought about justice and the drama’s attempts at its ‘true’ definition are not lost on me. It was really interesting!

On a side note (there will be many, bear with me haha), the symbolic behind the app’s name, DIKE, which i’m pretty sure (correct me if i’m wrong, i only have some very rough basics in korean haha) is the korean romanization of Nikè, or in ancient greek Νίκη, the greek divinity of Victory ( ‘ㄴ’ in korean sounds like an ’n’ but its pronounciation is more abrupt/brisker, to the point of what could be sounding to ears like a ‘d’).

Nikè is most of the time represented as an attribute to other greek divinities who also embody the victory eg. Zeus or Athena, thus seen as a bestower of victory (in any domain, be it war, games = interestingly enough, the live court is set in a colosseum-like room, arts, …) to the humanity on behalf of these gods (Nikè sometimes stands in her palm as an attribute of Athena, like the owl or the helmet). But sometimes Nikè was also revered an independent protective divinity.

Nikè is represented as a winged divinity in a long robe, flying above the victorious, assisting the humans in their works/challenges eg. handing them a laurel crown as a sign of victory, or a helmet, etc. Its mostly known representation is the Winged Victory of Samothrace (or The Nike of Samothrace) sculpture in the Louvre. The brand Nike also used it in its logo.

It calls back to Yohan’s line: « I make sure i win before the game starts », and in fact, since the beginning, unbeknownst to everybody witnessing the trials and participating to them, the app was his way to win. It foreshadows the ending of the story, Yohan finally taking down the foundation. It also adds to his god/devil image: he assumes the role of the intermediary/abyss of the « gods » (the Justice), taking in all the hubris of the society in order to bring the justice (well, guess we could say it put some hold to the cycle of the powerful culminating to chaos?) back, in some sort of catharsis through DIKE.

It might be a stretch, but Nikè’s winged representation could be found on Gaon’s tattoo (at first to me, it looked like a phoenix/winged angel, which symbolizes a ‘reincarnation’/new beginning for Yohan finding peace, a second chance to his past and Elijah thanks to Gaon & Gaon finding a new world even if his first crumbled ie. his parents and Soohyun’s death and professor Min’s betrayal).

(The whole virus plot by the end of the story made me feel a little uncomfortable given the actual context and the conspiracy theories that are spreading, but it wasn’t used carelessly and served the commentary of the powerful and how far they would go, i think? That said, a fiction, especially a dystopia like this, stays a fiction but when they used it, it gave me a forced laugh haha)

Now, if someone gets to translate some script bits, i’m really looking forward to:

K’s backstory!!!!!

Isaac and Yohan’s past!!!!

More about Elijah!!

Where’s the cat???

What was the script saying for Gaon and Yohan’s confrontation in ep. 12? When Yohan faced the window, waking up from a nightmare after Gaon left?

ABOUT SOOHYUN’S BACKSTORY. (Now, this will get long, i’m sorry but i needed to let my thoughts out haha) The drama introduced her as one of the four main characters with Gaon, Yohan and Sunah. I had so many expectations for her character! Especially from the three scenes we got of her:

➔ In the first episode, we see her save a young girl in the street from two men, looking up at the poster « A safe Korea will be realized from now on. »: it was a great introduction to the blatant lie of the ‘safe’ dystopian world that was being created in the story. It also showed how Soohyun felt in front of this insecure world. A side note, but seeing her hug the young girl like that reminded me the hugs she gave Gaon: she wanted to protect him from this unjust world with all her might (especially the scene in the restaurant where she hugs him). ➔ Her two confrontations with Juk Chang! ➔ Her dilemma and emotional turmoil when she erases Gaon’s presence in CKH’s office.

She was portrayed in the story as Gaon’s pillar since his parents’ tragic death and his moral compass. She’s the lawful citizen, despite feeling helpless to the world’s changes, who hopes it could be saved as long as the rule of law is preserved by everyone, and this begins by respecting it themselves.

But she was not standing around and i kind of regret this was not shown more in the story: she kept doing her best in the « system », fighting from the inside the injustice hoping the little changes could make a difference someday. Because she couldn’t take Yohan’s path, in no way: the system/the law must be respected for it to be sustained. And i’m glad they addressed this point in the drama: Yohan chose to take on the role nobody wanted or even dared to assume, knowing fully well he became a criminal the second he began his plans (just as lawyer Ko said he was no longer a lawyer once he sided with him).

This must not be glorified, nor vilified. As he said, it was a choice he decided to make. She mirrors his choices to some extent and i would have loved to see more of their interactions or her thoughts about that! And how she worked through the system to change things, her vision of the justice. They showed us the flashback of her career choice in high school, and it could have been interesting to learn more about her!

A backstory about her saving the youth and meeting Sunah by accident would have been very interesting (given Sunah knew all about her since the beginning and ordered to kill her). Their meeting wouldn’t have foreshadowed Sunah’s plans, quite the opposite, and it would have given more ‘substance’ to her plans. We were robbed of this relationship haha!

And of course, seeing her side with Yohan & Gaon for a short while (because seeing her team up with them all along the way could’ve been a little ooc) would have been dope. Her arresting Juk Chang while the two of them stop the gang was the closest thing we had to their teamwork ;;

Among the drama’s main focuses (the self-pity of the powerful and the never-ending cycle of their greed, the power displays it ensues which come in many forms in the system’s game), the conception of justice was developed all along the drama. It would have been really interesting to see whether Soohyun’s conception of justice could have changed in her own way!

And professor Min’s potential manipulation of Soohyun!!! Some scenes on their interactions could have been nice to see and explain why she focused solely on Yohan, the only side of the whole story she knew! Her reporting to the professor about her investigation (and him feeling she got too close to the truth) would have made sense because, as she saw Gaon growing apart from her as he was getting closer to the Kangs (especially since she saw him interact with Elijah when they invited her to the café, like Sunah saw how Gaon fit in their family at the dinner scene), she would’ve wanted to protect him without him knowing because she knew it’d have hurt him. It could have paralleled Gaon’s reports on Yohan to the professor at the beginning of the drama. And that could have explained (aside from the whole love triangle dynamics they had) her reluctance to tell Gaon Yohan was the one who told her his whereabouts when he was in danger in ep. 13 ; this scene also was one of the only moments addressing the lack of communication in their relationship. Seeing her feeling confused over Yohan could have been interesting!

(This also got me wondering whether in the script, Yohan’s injury was ever addressed.)

Also, i’m curious about her family, if the script mentions something about them: did they know Gaon?

About the loveline between Gaon and Soohyun: while the friendship could have stayed as is (it already felt pretty genuine in my opinion and strong friendships also deserve to be portrayed in stories), i’m convinced this drama wanted to set Gaon as the center of a subtext love & morality triangle between Soohyun and Yohan (and K and Sunah on Yohan’s part). I think i would’ve appreciated Gaon and Soohyun’s loveline so much more if they developed it more! And it had to develop in the very same episode she died: apart from the confession and kiss scene (i’m curious about the scene’s description in the script), the flashback of their moments, seen from Gaon’s pov, came just right in to ‘explain’ it!

Of course it wasn’t the main focus of the story and there was already so much happening, but their new relationship development and her death almost had no impact on me even if it was set as a turning point for Gaon (and K for Yohan, as a cement to their respective decision to fight the system and how they would do it), and it made me really really sad! Of course it was a plot device (and i now wonder what would’ve happened if she or K wasn’t dead), but if it was bound to happen, the emotional impact was lessened!

Jinjoo’s character development and her relationship with Sunah happened really really fast, and i wonder how the script describes it!

Sunah’s involvement with the juvenile care center!!! Her scene at the hospital left me really sad.

(Also, on the love plot, Gaon and Yohan jealousy bits weren’t used later as an expression of their envy towards the other’s status/life/etc. and were actually directed to people outside ie. Sunah/K/Soohyun in the plot, which makes me think they really wanted to set it as a love triangle!)

ABOUT SUNAH’S DEATH. I feel really really conflicted on this point. Her story was a parallel to CKH (and of course Yohan, i’ll talk about it below): two women — coming from totally opposite backgrounds — climbing their way up by their own means in this power circle. And despite all their accomplishments unnoticed (because they were the ones seeing through their plans while the others were mainly seen tearing each other into pieces), they could still be ruthlessly ejected from this world any day, part of it because they were belittled as women all the same, and chose to end her life on her own accord, still having agency over it.

As someone else pointed it out, it also acts as a « poetic » retribution for her murder of Soohyun and K. BUT her exiting the scene in some other way staying alive could have contrasted with CKH’s suicide (especially since she overthrew the president who was the only one on her side getting in her way and even killed him in the end). Especially in a show that deals about how the justice can be carried out!

Of course, Yohan and Sunah were a foil to each other in their respective fights and traumatic past: the drama showed us how having someone to reach out to and protect (Elijah, Isaac and Gaon to Yohan ; Soohyun, Yohan and Elijah to Gaon) can become a driving force. Sunah, despite thinking this could be a weakness, also longed for companionship (from Yohan mainly, but also from Jaehee), and had no one to stop her crossing the line and preserve her from herself and the world. At least someone hearing her story, staying by her side and trying to understand her.

Each time she said ‘can you be a little nicer to me?’ to Yohan made me feel for her (and also that one call with Jaehee), it was the only cries of loneliness she silently let out!

On a totally random note, i would have loved to see her interact more with Gaon (especially by the end of ep. 15, when Yohan was arrested)!

The story gladly didn’t end Yohan’s traumatic past and growth in death, but what about Sunah? In any case, Sunah was a really good and complex character, i enjoyed her character!

What about Jaehee? How did she react to Sunah’s death???

What about CKH’s family after her death???

I would have loved to hear more about Sunah’s plans as well! Scenes where she would play with Gaon for example (in Yohan’s presence or not, like at the photoshoot)!

(This comment above foreshadowed, along with the dinner scene in ep. 11, she used him all along!)

Her involvement behind the scenes was only exposed in ep. 15 but i wanted to know more about her (motivations aside from her focus on Yohan, what did she plan to do before finding out a look-alike to Isaac, ...)! Given the elements in the plot, i get the idea she planned this whole business with the foundation first to reach the top and wanted to bring Yohan up with her (eg. leading the foundation or becoming the president) or down without her along the way, because she wanted his companionship. Maybe the script expands on it more? Did she really believe in the Dream Home project? Because as we saw her speech in the juvenile care center and her strong reaction to the youth being harmed in these schemes, i believe she kinda wanted to protect them as the best revenge on her past, because nobody could do it for her?

THE ENDING SCENE. The ending was pretty good and didn’t give us an all-out tragedy, so i’m really glad! I still can’t believe Gaon was ready to blow his life away once he learnt Yohan’s death AND wanted to die with him (falsely) realizing Yohan wouldn’t change his mind, dead set on his decision (no pun intended!). And Yohan’s reaction to this ............... Now, their last scene is left to the viewers’ interpretation, but it felt to me like a new beginning to Yohan and Gaon’s relationship! As it was already said by many people on tumblr, Yohan wasn’t sure if Gaon would still be by his side despite it all, and he didn’t expect Gaon to feel this way. They’ll definitely meet again, it’s a promise of more in the future (especially Yohan’s nod, on the verge of tears and Gaon’s two relieved/endeared smiles, full of forgiveness). Gaon will join his new world once he’s done or they’ll come back to him once Elijah’s recovered.

And this game of hide and seek/hunt reflected their relationship development: Yohan felt unattainable at first, but he chased after him in the maze that was his devilish game, symbolized by the crowd, chasing him motivated by his suspicion, curiosity, anger and hate, disbelief and disappointment, empathy, worry, affection, desperation and love, until he finally reached him and they understood each other among all the crowd, living metaphorically in the same time, facing each other on the same (ground) level.

(A scene in the first episode, Gaon seeing a maze of Yohan’s reflections, maybe symbolizing he could not see through his facade in the beginning, being an enigma to him at first sight ; the choice of the reflections in the mirrors through the drama is interesting and reflects the story: depending on the angles, a story can hold as many meanings as there are points of view, the complete image surfacing once everybody’s story is told)

(Just like how, in ep. 4, Yohan shows Gaon the wicked system right under their noses, Gaon’s enraged and confused gaze directed right at Yohan after they all block his view by clinking glasses ; Yohan hoped he would understand what lies beneath but Gaon understands it fully through his own past in ep. 7-8)

(The crowd is cleared from their/our view in the final scene, leaving the two of them facing each other without any obstacle/reflection on their path)

Gaon kept Yohan’s watch all the time even in moments of doubt, sorrow and rage (the best PPL in drama history so far haha), Yohan finally got to Gaon and entered his world as Soohyun did, reaching out when he needed it the most, to stop him doing something he would regret deeply. It was symbolized by the scar he got on his left hand from preventing Gaon from stabbing him (that’s also why he caresses his scar in a bittersweet way, lost in thoughts, reminding him of their last meeting).

As @i-guess-it-rains said + according to the BTS’ editing (it passed off as a joke but i can’t erase it from my brain now haha), the way the scene where Yohan defused Gaon’s bomb was framed looked at the same time like Yohan was also carefully handling Gaon’s heart (the bomb countdown clock radiating a red glow on his chest), on the verge of exploding. Now i have The Nights lyrics in my head haha (« My heart is going back to you, i just don’t know »)

On another note, i realized that in ep. 12, after Gaon left, he’s seen trying to call Soohyun in order to reach for her since their last confrontation, but right before, his finger glides over his contact, hesitating on Yohan’s contact before choosing to call Soohyun.

While in ep. 8, he only reaches out to Soohyun after his breakdown in the prison yard (without thinking to call Yohan because he was in the core of his doubts and pain at that time and needed space to reflect on all the events):

And it parallels to Sunah attempting to reach out to Jaehee in her loneliness at the top, hesitating before deciding to call her.

Now i hope TDJ will be on Netflix! It’d be very nice to get to watch the drama in high quality and have more people to see it!

I heard it got a webtoon adaptation so i also look forward to it once it will be translated!

A SECOND SEASON? When i first saw the ending, i thought it got wrapped up nicely and didn’t « need » another season, but it also left some parts open and laid out a new background for further developments (the system repeats itself but in another form, Yohan leaves the scene with his signature smile, maybe up to something else again, saying metaphorically or irl to Gaon he’ll come back if he doesn’t do well), kinda like Stranger/Forest of Secrets s1 or The Guest ending (the corruption doesn’t end there). I also heard it got high viewing rates in SK, so maybe it will be taken into account? And well, i’ll miss the cast so i would welcome the idea haha

THE SOUNDTRACK. The whole OST was stellar (and their titles are on point really!)! Getting to hear it without voices or noise over and with my headphones on made me realize it was even more beautiful! Because I Have You, Warmth That Melts Loneliness and If Only… are the end of me (especially If Only aaaaaaa)! Don’t get me started on Enemy of Truth’s title to the OST playing for the church fire because it’s devastating ;;;

If Only’s title … It leaves us filling in the blank space, the dots to Gaon’s thoughts when he learns about Yohan’s past and how it impacts him to this day.

The 4 songs were amazing (there’s also Different from the Outside but i still didn’t get its lyrics). Tempest was definitely etched in my mind as TDJ’s main theme haha And The Nights was my favorite!

➔ Tempest was Yohan’s iconic theme and depicted his lonely path to revenge after the tragic events in his life, and his (fated) encounter with Gaon, how deeply it will change him in this journey in ways he didn’t expect. It perfectly introduces (with Chet Faker and Flume’s Drop the game) and concludes the drama!

➔ What you gonna do was THE revenge epic song making everyone revel in the ‘bad guys’ despair and Yohan’s badass moves!

➔ The Nights felt like it was both Yohan and Gaon’s theme and Gaon’s sorrow after Soohyun’s death: at first i thought it was only Yohan’s, but his revenge and the last episodes proved me wrong! The song’s lyrics mirrored themselves (‘my/your night shines on you/me’), as if a complete understanding between Yohan and Gaon was found on their dark road. Yohan’s night shines on Gaon: Yohan’s broken past and all his misunderstood or hidden sides, his dedication to Elijah. Yohan’s rage (almost wrath since the biblical and god symbolism are there haha) and desire to take the inique system down waked Gaon’s own rage, buried deep inside, and made him move forward too. Gaon’s night shines on Yohan: all the time he spent with the Kangs, Gaon’s deep empathy and understanding, helping him reconnect with his niece, their dinners at night, his rage exploding when the truth about his parents was revealed, his desperation on the last two episodes (in ep. 15, seeing Gaon’s realization everything was a lie and Yohan was innocent, and in ep. 16, Gaon wanting to die by his side). Gaon’s night also shined on Soohyun, who wanted to protect him with all she got each time she saw him crumbling down.

There was still light on their dark road (which looks like a callback to Nightmare’s lyrics, « Save me from myself / Save me from this darkness that has lost its light »).

➔ Nightmare felt like it was Yohan and Sunah’s theme. When it last played when Sunah’s death happened on screen, it left me speechless (and if i remember correctly, the ‘save me from myself’ bit was played right when she shot herself … o u c h)!

#the devil judge #tvn drama #my ramblings

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villlainarc · 4 years

Text

All of These Stars (Will Guide Us Home)

Summary: Logan had a guardian angel. Okay. He could sort of work with that.

Angels were real. He could work with that a bit less, though he supposed it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

His guardian angel was very pretty and absolutely fascinating—from an objective and scientific standpoint, of course. He knew that those two were indisputable facts, so he didn’t have a problem with that, he could accept that.

The fact that he had a guardian angel meant he needed help.

Oh, absolutely not. Logan couldn’t even pretend to work with that.

In which Logan finds himself stuck with a guardian angel and a strange feeling blossoming between them.

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: brief mention of not eating (though it isn’t intentional), swearing, it gets real sad before it gets happy again

Word Count: 11,504

Taglist (ask to be added!): @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive

Notes: for the sanders sides reverse bang, run by @sanderssidesfanfiction. as per the rules of the reverse bang, the art this is inspired by was done by none other than @2queer2deer and is here

and finally, many thanks to ren for offering to beta this after it got too long for me to catch everything myself and my brain gave up on me fjskskd

ao3

_________________________

Logan was a neuroscientist. He knew that a fight or flight response was triggered when the human brain was overwhelmed and stressed. He knew exactly how it dealt with information and that if need be, it would formulate more believable scenarios when the current one couldn’t be processed. He knew that when it came to sleep deprivation, intense hallucinations would only start after a full seventy-two hours of no sleep.

Logan was not overwhelmed. Logan’s mind had always processed things in the way it should have, and he was not prone to coming up with scenarios that had never happened. While it wasn’t as much sleep as would have been ideal—seeing as he had been consistently sleep deprived for the past week—Logan had still slept for a full seven and a half hours last night.

And that’s why, for the life of him, he could not figure out why there appeared to be an angel in the middle of his lab.

“Ah,” the angel said, turning around, completely oblivious to the fact that it (he?) was not supposed to exist. “You must be Logan.”

So. The angel knew his name. Logan found himself nodding blankly in response, trying to think up some sort of explanation for why there would be a fucking angel in his lab.

“Nice to meet you then, Logan. How are you?” the angel asked, still clueless about how utterly impossible its (his?) being here was. He (Logan had decided somewhere in the back of his mind that calling something humanoid “it” felt distinctly wrong) lifted himself onto one of the stainless steel tables littered about the lab, swinging his feet as he continued talking. “I’m Roman,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Logan blinked. The angel—or Roman, as Logan supposed he should refer to him—was sitting on his lab table, and that’s about all Logan’s mind could process at the moment. Acting on the one thing that made sense to him, Logan took a step forward. “Get off my lab table.” After taking a breath and making a very conscious effort not to scream, he tacked on a clipped, “Please.”

“Oh! Sorry, yes. I’ll do that.” Roman pushed himself smoothly off the lab table, landing on the ground with barely a sound.

“Right,” Logan said under his breath. “Right,” he repeated, this time directed more at Roman than himself. “I’m going to have to wipe that down, and then you’re going to tell me exactly why you’re here, how you know who I am, whether or not you’re actually an angel, how your wings work, and then you’re going to get the fuck out of my lab.” With that, Logan felt perfectly secure in grabbing a clean cloth and a spray bottle of bleach before walking back to the offending lab table and wiping it down thoroughly.

“I think you’re going to have to repeat all those questions for me, one at a time, and at a far slower pace,” Roman said, hovering in the background once Logan had begun cleaning. “I caught exactly none of it.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “I apologize, I was rambling a bit. Give me one moment and I’ll be right with you.” With a final swipe of the cloth, Logan put away the cleaning supplies and pulled a notepad out of his lab coat. “Now,” he said, scrawling something across the page as he sat down, “please, have a seat in this chair right across from me and then answer this to start: why are you here?”

“Why, for you, of course! I’m your guardian angel, Logan, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

That raised a fair few more questions than it answered, but Logan wasn’t going to think too hard on that just yet. He finished noting what Roman had said and then moved on to his next question. “I had asked you how you knew who I was, but I think that question just answered itself, so I’m going to skip it.” Logan tapped his pen against the notepad for a moment, recalling what he’d said next. “Ah, and then I asked if you were actually an angel, which, again, I feel has been sufficiently explained. Now then, how do your wings work?”

“Like any wings would work, I suppose,” Roman said, ruffling his feathers a bit as he stretched them out to their full width. Logan winced as a few feathers fell to the floor, making a mental note to sweep them up as soon as he could. “I flap them, and they help me fly. What else would you like to know about them?”

“Hm, they do protrude from your back, correct? And you were born with them?”

“Yes, and yes, I— where are you going?” Logan had gotten up from his chair while Roman had been in the middle of speaking, poking about his lab for something.

“Just getting a pair of gloves. Please, don’t mind me. You can continue.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright. I was pretty much done. But may I ask why you’re looking for gloves?”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a quick nod. “I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed before going to get them, but… would you mind if I touched your wings? I’m curious as to how they feel.”

“Absolutely! Be my guest.”

“Thank you. Could I ask you a few more questions while I work?”

“Ask away, darling.”

“In that case—” Logan pulled the gloves over his hands with a snap, walking up behind Roman, “—I hope this isn’t too forward or uncouth, but what exactly does it mean to be an angel? On Earth, we have a multitude of myths and ideas about what they are, how they act, where they come from, what they do, and so on. What’s the truth?”

“Hm, I can’t really answer that. Since you’re a mortal, there are certain things I’m simply not allowed to tell you. But! I can say that every culture got at least a few aspects right. Every story holds a grain of truth, and the stories of angels are no different.” Roman paused, and Logan heard the first few hints of a frown enter his voice. “What are you doing back there, anyway? It tickles.”

“Me? Oh, I’m just looking for muscles or bones, I suppose, though anything interesting would do. I’m not sure. Do you happen to know what your wings are made of?”

“Um. Muscle, probably? And bone and feathers? I’m not sure, honestly. It’s not something that’s of particular importance, you know?”

“I see,” Logan said, still running his hands through Roman’s feathers. “They appear to be almost identical to bird wings, did you know that?”

“…No? Is that a good thing?”

“It means they were specifically designed for flight, likely longer flights as well. They’re more similar in structure to the wings of a bird of prey, though I suppose that would make sense, especially considering that the rest of you is humanoid and we too are a predatory species. So yes,” Logan concluded, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’d say that is a good thing.”

Roman turned his head slightly, watching Logan pull off his gloves and put them carefully in a waste container with a curious look in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad.”

“Do you mind if I take a few of your feathers to study them?” Upon seeing Roman bristle a little at the thought, Logan added swiftly, “I was only referring to the ones that have fallen to the floor, I wouldn’t take them directly from your wings, not to worry.”

“I don’t see why not, then. You didn’t have to ask, you know.”

Logan shrugged. “It’s always better to ask about everything when working with human—or humanoid, in your case—test subjects.”

“Hm,” Roman replied, cocking his head to the side as Logan lifted a few feathers from the ground with a pair of tweezers before carefully sealing them in a plastic bag.

Once he’d done that though, Logan’s scientific curiosity immediately waned, leaving only a looming sense of panic because, as he’d somehow managed to forget, there was a fucking angel in his science lab and absolutely no protocol for handling such a situation. “I need to sit down,” he decided aloud.

“Good idea,” Roman hummed, getting out of his own chair and making his way around the lab. “This is where you work, huh?”

“Yes. Don’t touch a thing.” Logan’s words were purely instinctual, any rational thought he may have had vanishing rapidly.

“Noted,” Roman replied, making a show of folding his hands behind his back before peering into a microscope. “You’re a neuroscientist, right?”

“Shouldn’t you already know that? Being my ‘guardian angel’ and all,” Logan said, and he would have put finger quotes around the words “guardian angel” if his hands were not currently occupied with holding his head between them. Logically, Logan knew his sarcasm and disbelief stemmed from the fact that he was currently falling into denial but emotionally, Logan was very far from ready to acknowledge the fact that angels just might exist—no, scratch that—that they did exist.

“Oh, of course I knew that. I’m merely trying to make small talk. You seem a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“This ‘small talk’ is only serving to make me more overwhelmed.”

“Ah. Would you prefer if I got straight to the core of your psychological issues and the reason you’ve been deemed worthy of being assigned a guardian angel?”

“…I’m going to have to say no to that. What would really help is you shutting the fuck up so I can think straight.”

“Jeez, I knew you weren’t good at making friends, but I didn’t—”

“So sorry, did you not hear when I asked for complete silence?”

“Right, right. Got it. Shutting up now.”

Logan let out a sigh at that, letting his head drop once more into his hands.

He had a guardian angel. Okay. He could sort of work with that.

Angels were real. He could work with that a bit less, though he supposed it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

The angel was very pretty and absolutely fascinating—from an objective and scientific standpoint, of course. He knew that those were just indisputable facts, so he didn’t have a problem with that, he could accept that.

The fact that he had a guardian angel meant that he needed help.

Oh, absolutely not. Logan couldn’t even pretend to work with that.

Having come to a decision, he lifted his head from his hands. “You need to get out. Now.”

Roman blinked at him from his place behind a different microscope than the one he’d been near before. “I— what? Why?”

“I don’t need—nor do I want a guardian angel, so I’m asking you to leave. That’s all, I can assure you it’s not personal.”

“Logan, darling, I’m frankly offended that you would imply that I would just abandon you like that! Besides, I’m tied to you until further notice. I couldn’t leave you behind even if I wanted to—which, for the record, I don’t now and won’t ever.”

“Yes, well— figure something out. I am not entertaining this any longer. I apologize for the inconvenience, but you are of no use to me. Thank whoever’s in charge for thinking of me, and goodbye, Roman. It was nice meeting you.”

“…So, what do you not understand about the fact that I cannot physically leave? Because I thought that was pretty clear, but if you need me to, I can explain again.”

“I understood you perfectly fine,” Logan said, standing up and taking an unintentionally menacing step towards Roman. “I simply don’t care. I’d thank you kindly for leaving me alone. I don’t need your help.”

“Was that an invitation for me to list all the ways you do, in fact, need my help?”

“No, it really wasn’t, it was actually a very explicit invitation to leave me alone and get the fu—”

“So! First of all, you’re lonely.”

“That’s just wrong, plain and simple. I have Patton and I have Virgil, not to mention my family and—”

“Very true, but if you try to tell me they truly understand you, you’d be lying, no?”

Logan had nothing to say to that.

“Exactly. Secondly, your ambition and curiosity are the only things you’re living for. You have no proper sense of self and no confidence in who you are as a person.”

“I—”

“No, no, I’m not done yet. Thirdly, you still haven’t moved past the fact that your aspirations and curiosities have always been mocked and still don’t feel that you can speak your mind freely because you fear you’ll be belittled for your interests.”

“I think that’s more than enough, I get the idea—”

“And finally,” Roman said a bit louder, talking over Logan’s objections, “in your drive to prove the people from your past wrong, you’ve lost all trust in those closest to you. Not only are you lonely now, you still insist on keeping everyone at a distance so you will forever be lonely.”

Logan was silent.

“So, how did I do? Was I right?”

“Perhaps a few things you said were somewhat accurate, but that in no way means I need your help. Because I don’t.”

“Mm, my boss begs to differ, and so do I. Besides, you really don’t have a say in this. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” Roman didn’t seem very troubled with this information, sending Logan a sparkling grin followed quickly by a wink.

“Well then. Let’s just say you do end up staying around. What exactly do you plan on doing that any good therapist couldn’t?”

“Well, for starters, I’m an angel, Logan. My angelic nature is a healing force all on its own. Secondly, a therapist couldn’t provide you with love now, could they? They wouldn’t be able to help you feel less lonely by being your friend, huh?”

“I don’t need—”

“You don’t need friends? Everyone needs friends, Logan. It’s human nature, I’m sure you know that.”

Logan sighed, running a hand absently through his hair. “Let’s say I ignore you. Would you eventually leave me alone?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright then, let’s just pretend I do accept your existence in my life. How am I supposed to explain who you are?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. I can handle the explanations, that was all a part of my training.”

“How comforting. Now, what happens if I’m never deemed ‘fixed?’ Do you just have to live with me until I die? Does that mean you’ve failed?”

“Okay, so let’s get one thing straight—”

“I don’t think you can do that. I’m gay.”

“Oh, I know, it’s just a figure of speech, but anyway, that wasn’t even the point. What I was going to say is that you aren’t being ‘fixed.’ You don’t need to be fixed, you need love and support. So I’m not here to fix you, I’m here to help you, and I won’t fail in that, Logan.”

“That’s a sweet sentiment I suppose, but that doesn’t eliminate the possibility of failure by any means.”

“Well then, it seems we have an opportunity here, now don’t we?”

“Do I want to know what that entails?”

“Quite possibly not, but you also don’t have a choice. Either way though, you need to learn how to trust people, right? Here’s your first chance. Trust that I won’t fail you, because that’s all you can really do in this case.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm, I don’t think that sounded much like you trusting me, somehow. Let’s try that again: I won’t fail you, Logan. Trust me.”

“I… will ignore the possibility that you might fail.”

Roman snorted. “That’s closer, at least. You’ll get there someday.”

“Well,” Logan said, clearing his throat. “Would you mind getting out of my lab while I work, at least? I’m afraid I won’t be able to concentrate with someone else in the room.”

“Even if that someone’s fabulously charming and winningly handsome?”

“I’m afraid so, and I’m so very sorry about that,” Logan said, not sounding very sorry at all.

“You don’t sound very sorry at all,” Roman pouted.

“Yes, well, I am and I’ve wasted enough time entertaining you. So if you don’t mind, I have work to do now.”

“Ooo, what are you doing toda—”

“No, nope, absolutely not, get out.” He herded Roman out the door, slamming it once he’d made it through. Leaning his head against it with a sigh, Logan made a futile attempt to collect his thoughts, knowing instinctively that no matter how hard he tried, he would be getting absolutely nothing of worth done today.

_________________________

For the next several weeks, Logan was constantly plagued by Roman’s continued existence.

The angel refused to leave him alone for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and Logan was certain he was going absolutely insane because of it. No matter how many locked doors he hid behind, Roman always managed to find a way through. Logan hypothesized that it was magic, but Roman vehemently denied that when asked.

“Me? Use magic? Why, of course not! It’s not allowed when I’m on Earth because I’m supposed to be ‘blending in,’ and I would never break a rule as important as that. I’m shocked and appalled that you’d accuse me of such a thing, my darling Logan.”

Logan didn’t believe that absolute bullshit for a second, but he could never prove anything to the contrary, even though he did spend nearly every waking moment with Roman. Even if he could never get Roman to stop talking. Even if he was overwhelmed with the constant onslaught of Roman Roman Roman—

At that point, Logan couldn’t remember what he had been trying to find out in the first place. As he spent more time around Roman’s constant chatter, he could feel himself physically losing brain cells; it was getting harder to think, harder to move, harder to calm his head, his heart, his breaths.

It was possible that he should have mentioned this to Roman, but Logan didn’t want to tell the angel any more than necessary, even though doing so would mean that he would leave him behind sooner. That wasn’t worth the vulnerability he would be showing, nothing was.

So he just had to… survive.

He could survive; he’d done so all his life, clearly. There was no reason at all for him to stop now.

Besides, he had a few hours of Roman-free time while he was at work, and that was enough to let him breathe properly. Though it was gradually becoming harder for him to concentrate long enough to find the correct train of thought to follow, his time spent at work as a neuroscientist was still far superior to any time spent around Roman.

At least, it had been before today. Because today, everything—everything—was going wrong.

First, it was his alarm being set to the wrong sound. Instead of waking him up with its usual serene tones that gradually increased in volume, it emitted a jarring series of beeps that physically hurt Logan when he heard them.

Then, it was his coffee being too cold, then too sweet, then being spilled over his counter. It hadn’t all been lost, but what was left in the thermos wasn’t enough to placate Logan as the right amount would have on any other day.

After the spilled coffee came the pout Roman gave him after he’d snapped at him for humming too loudly. After the pout came the imploring request to pretty please tell Roman what was wrong, after the request came another bout of waspish remarks, after the waspish remarks came another pout, and after the pout, Logan simply left.

Once he arrived at work, Logan was certain that his day was going to get better. It could only go up from the pit he’d fallen into, right?

Wrong. Logan’s day could—and would—get so much worse.

The first thing to go wrong at work was seeing his messy lab. He’d been tired when he’d left last night, leaving the clean up to his future self. This was proving to have been a terrible idea.

Cringing at the equipment strewn all over, Logan locked his bag away in a locker on the left wall and got to work cleaning.

That, at least, was calming.

What was decidedly not calming was having one of his coworkers burst through the door without so much as a knock. This was the second thing to go wrong after Logan had arrived at work, and the following conversation was the third.

“You aren’t busy, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, I—”

“Doesn’t matter. We need you to check out these scans right about… oh, now, but no pressure of course. I’ll be in room 312 whenever you’re done,” the man—whose name Logan couldn’t seem to remember for the life of him—interrupted with a tight smile. “Thanks,” he added as an afterthought, strolling out of the lab without even having the decency to close the door behind him.

The fourth thing to go wrong was the fact that Logan had to actually concentrate on doing something while there was still clutter all over the room, but he did manage to do so with only mild suffering.

Logan had just begun to grow hungry when the realization of the fifth thing to go wrong dawned on him. He’d forgotten to pack his lunch.

Fuck.

This wasn’t catastrophic, of course. He could always go somewhere to buy lunch, but it was while Logan was searching for his wallet that he remembered leaving it on the counter at home. While Logan would by no means starve without lunch, not having food to sustain him for the rest of the day would not bode well for anyone who needed to speak with him.

That was the sixth thing that went wrong.

The seventh thing to go wrong was Logan’s lightheadedness, a sudden reminder that he hadn’t had breakfast either, so consumed had he been with the spilled coffee and argument with Roman. This left him with two awful options. He could either wait until he got home to eat (which would have countless adverse effects on his physical health) or he could ask to borrow money from someone he worked with (which would have countless adverse effects on his mental health). There really was no winning for him.

But having to deal with the discomfort of asking for money seemed to Logan a lesser evil at that point than having to wait for several more hours before he’d be able to alleviate the gnawing pain in his stomach.

This was the eighth thing to go wrong, the ninth being the fact that the sandwich he’d been lent had been slathered with mayo and gone soggy because of it.

Logan’s day seemed to be looking up after lunch, though, as he had finally managed to finish cleaning up his lab by that point and was able to continue research into a different patient’s condition at a more leisurely pace than he’d had to think at that morning.

There was still so much that could go wrong, though, and it all did.

The tenth thing was a conversation with a coworker that stretched on for a small eternity, the eleventh a series of three brand new things he had to do at “his earliest convenience,” the twelfth a glass beaker that Logan had dropped shattering to pieces on the floor.

Logan left after he’d cleaned up that mess, not wanting to get to the thirteenth bad thing because although he was far from superstitious, the fact that he now knew angels existed was fucking with his mind in that regard.

Once he got home, he restarted the count of things that went wrong solely for his own sanity. Reaching a count of unfortunate incidents that was any higher than twenty things would make him want to scream, so when he saw Roman waiting for him on the couch as soon as he walked through the doorway, he considered that the first terrible thing to happen once he’d gotten home as opposed to the twenty-first terrible thing that had happened in total.

The second thing was the discovery that Roman had raided his refrigerator earlier that day and eaten the lunch he’d made for himself, the third that he found his house to be entirely void of Crofters jam. The fourth was the fact that peanut butter eaten alone made his mouth feel thick and dry, the fifth Roman’s proclamation that he’d told Logan so.

The sixth thing to go wrong once Logan got home was the fact that Roman would simply not stop singing, even after he’d mentioned that he was going to take a nap because it had been a long day so could he please be quiet for just thirty minutes? That was all he wanted, thirty blissful minutes of peace and quiet.

He didn’t even get five.

That was alright though, he decided, because he could read and block out any noise that happened to drift his way, obnoxious singing included.

The seventh tragedy occurred when Logan finished his book and had to return once again to reality and the angel that came with it. It was getting dark, and Logan should have gone to the kitchen to get food at that point. He hadn’t eaten much at all today, but going to the kitchen also meant having to deal with Roman and his loud voice and prying questions and— nope. Logan didn’t have enough mental energy left to handle that.

So instead, he decided to do what he always did when his problems proved to be too much for him. He ran away from them.

Specifically, he ran away to a field of wildflowers in the middle of nowhere with the most perfect view of the stars he’d ever seen.

While that was still running away, Logan tended to ignore that in favor of admiring the night sky.

Now, all he had to do was get out of the house without running into Roman. He would want to know where Logan was going and then he’d have to explain and then Roman would want to come with him and that could only end with Logan becoming even more frustrated with the world, so he opted to leave through his window.

He’d never tried to do that before, so he was pleasantly surprised when he made it out with only a slight stumble. Without the walls of his house closing in on him, Logan noted that he felt more at ease than he had all day. The night air also helped to calm him, and his entire demeanor had relaxed by the time he reached his field of wildflowers.

Letting out a sigh, Logan felt any remaining tension melt away as he sat down beneath the leaves of a willow tree. He leaned his head back against its trunk and allowed himself to simply trace the constellations above him with his eyes.

When he’d been far younger, more naive, and less concerned with making enough money to live comfortably, Logan had seriously considered becoming an astronomer. He’d also toyed with the thought of being an astrophysicist, but the idea of having to work with concepts that weren’t concrete or truly proven made him feel slightly panicked and had turned him off from that completely. Still though, he’d always found anything to do with planets, galaxies, stars, and anything in between to be utterly fascinating. He could have spent hours in the library reading about astronomers and their discoveries from centuries past, and while Logan wouldn’t ever be one to work solely in theoreticals, learning about those theories was almost more fascinating than the facts themselves. No matter what else was going on in his life at the time, he had always been able to turn to the stars in some form or another as a calming presence. They were the one constant that hadn’t managed to fade from his life, and Logan was incredibly grateful for it. He didn’t even want to think about a life lived without the stars for company.

That’s why this field of wildflowers meant so much to him; it wasn’t the place itself as much as it was what it allowed him to see. His surroundings were undoubtedly beautiful, but they paled in comparison to the sky above. And, sitting beneath the willow tree and looking up, up, up, Logan was perfectly content.

He would have stayed that way too were it not for the arrival of one The Blessed Roman, guardian angel.

“Logan? What are you doing all the way out here?”

Sighing, Logan avoided the question. “Did you follow me?”

“No! Well, kind of. That depends on what you mean by following. No, I didn’t see you leave and then decide to leave then as well. But yes, I did notice that you were being awfully quiet and decide to check on you before discovering that you were gone before using the bond between us to guide me here.”

“Wonderful, so I can never escape you.”

“No, you really can’t, I’m afraid.” Roman walked the rest of the way to the trunk of the willow tree, sitting down beside Logan and pressing his back up against it as well. “Now, why are you here?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to talk to you. In fact, I would much prefer to be left alone.”

“Ah, you’re shutting down again. You don’t want to be vulnerable, so you’re pushing me away when I try to get you to open up. You definitely shouldn’t do that, especially considering that no matter how vulnerable you are, I am physically not able to hurt you in any way, shape, or form. I promise you can trust me.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Oh, that’s fine too! You can talk about anything, but please, Logan, just talk to me.”

“I— why?”

Roman shrugged. “Talking helps, sometimes. Just to have someone who’ll listen to you, you know?”

“I’ll try it, I suppose. But if I ask you to leave me alone again, please do so.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Alright. So.” Logan cleared his throat, not knowing how to continue. He looked up at the stars again, and his eyes lit up with the sudden brilliance of an idea. “Look at the sky, and see that star over there? The really bright one?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Its name is Rasalhague, which is derived from the Arabic phrase meaning ‘the head of the serpent collector.’ And since it’s the brightest star in the constellation Ophiuchus—a constellation depicting a man often believed to be the Greek god of medicine, Asclepius, with a serpent in his hands—the name is rather fitting. And the bright star below it? That’s Sabik. Its name also comes from Arabic, meaning ‘the preceding one,’ though this time there’s no fitting explanation as to why. If you connect those two stars with twenty-five others, the brightest ones being there, there, there, here, there, and there—” Logan pointed at a new star in the constellation with each word he spoke, “—then you have the full Ophiuchus constellation. And if you look just to the left of Sabik, you can see Serpens Cauda, which is the tail of the serpent Asclepius is holding. Now, below and slightly to the right of Rasalhague is Serpens Caput, the other half of the full Serpens constellation. If you translate their names from Latin, they mean exactly what they are supposed to depict: ‘snake tail’ and ‘snake head,’ respectively.”

“Oh! I remember those! If I’m not mistaken, I helped to create them.”

At that, Logan’s gaze snapped back down to Earth. “You did what?” he asked, voice breathy with awe.

“I’m an angel, Logan, of course I helped with the creation of the universe! I made quite a few stars, actually. I think you humans call the constellations they make up Corona Borealis and Corona Australis? The northern and southern crowns? There are a few others that don’t remember the names of, but if you look over there—” at this, Roman took Logan’s hand in his and moved it in a circle around a spot in the sky a little bit to the left of Ophiuchus and Serpens, “—that’s where most of my stars are.”

Breathless, Logan went quiet for a few moments, trying to remember which constellation those stars made up, if any. Then, without warning, he gasped. “Oh! Oh, your stars are near Microscopium and Telescopium, two of the six constellations Lacaille discovered and named after scientific instruments and navigational tools, all first documented in 1756. Lacaille was a French astronomer who also christened a fair amount of other modern constellations the same year, but my favorites are those six: Microscopium and Telescopium, of course, and Fornax, which is the chemist’s distillation furnace, Octans, the octant, Pyxis, the compass, and Circinus, the dividing compasses. You can’t see all of them right now since they’re in different places throughout the sky and some of them aren’t as bright nor as recognizable as, say, Ursa Major and Minor or Orion’s Belt, so even then they would be more difficult to see, but—” Logan stopped, seeming to catch himself. “Sorry. You probably didn’t want to hear about all that.”

“No!” The intensity in Roman’s voice caused Logan to turn towards him in confusion, a slight frown on his face. “I mean, of course I want to continue to hear you talk about constellations, so no, please don’t stop talking, please never assume I won’t want to hear what you have to say. It’s interesting, and I like hearing the joy in your voice.”

“Ah,” Logan said, his face coloring lightly. He cleared his throat again before continuing in a softer voice, “Thank you.”

“Of course, Logan. When you talk about stars or space or science or honestly, anything that makes you smile, it’s—no, you—are beautiful.”

“I’m just… lecturing, really, and there’s nothing special about that.” Logan rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Besides, you were the one who created the stars I was telling you about. Compared to that, I didn’t do anything at all.”

“On the contrary, I think your knowledge is far more than a simple ‘anything.’ When I formed those stars out of light and space dust, I never could have imagined them inspiring a smile—or anything else, for that matter—so gorgeous.”

Logan wanted to ask how Roman could have possibly believed that stars, some of the most beautiful creations in existence, wouldn’t result in something just as pretty.

Logan also wanted to completely ignore the fact that Roman thought the resulting pretty thing was his smile, fearing how flustered he’d become if Roman so much as alluded to that statement again. Eventually though, he settled on a response that didn’t encapsulate even half as much as he was feeling. “Thank you for creating them,” he said.

“If they’ve brought you even a fraction of the amount of happiness as they seem to have, it all will have been worth it.”

Logan felt himself blushing again, but he chose to pretend that his face was not a brilliant shade of red. “Yes, well—” he trailed off, finding himself unable to think of the right words to say.

Roman laughed, lightly setting his hand over Logan’s to pat it in a show of fond affection. “You’re adorable.” He grinned once more, shifting his grip so he was holding Logan’s hand properly before moving on to an entirely new subject. “Anyhow, are you feeling any better?”

“Actually? I think I am,” Logan said, making a valiant attempt to convince himself that his improved mood had nothing to do with the fact that Roman was so casually holding his hand.

“Soo… are you saying that I was right?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I would never.” Roman laughed again, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound. “But thank you.”

“Of course, Logan. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know it is, but… it’s nice to have someone pretend to care anyway.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. I promise you, Logan, I will never pretend with you.”

“Oh.” There was an odd sort of warmth in Logan’s chest, and he wanted to hold onto the memory of it for the rest of his life. As he drowned in that wonderful feeling, he felt the rest of his day fade into nothing, completely insignificant in this current moment of peace. “Thank you,” he repeated.

“You’re welcome,” Roman replied, but it sounded like he meant something else too, something hidden just beneath his spoken words that Logan couldn’t quite pick up on.

With a soft sigh, Logan leaned closer and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder. “You know,” he began, “I should apologize for the way I treated you earlier today. It was uncalled for, and you didn’t deserve it. I took out my feelings on you when you didn’t really do anything but sing too loudly—which, to be fair, can be incredibly annoying, but I digress—so I’m sorry.”

“Um,” Roman said in a way that was very nearly a squeak as he looked down at Logan. “Thanks.” He swallowed, and his voice returned to normal when he spoke again. “Now that you mention it though, I should probably do less of that when you’re around. I didn’t realize it bothered you as much as it did, so I too apologize.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “And I’ll do my best to remind you in a less snappish way whenever it gets on my nerves.”

“That would be nice, yes,” Roman agreed, returning Logan’s smile with a soft one of his own. “Now, I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I am truly glad I got to talk to you tonight. I know it may not seem like a lot, but it’s a better start than I would have ever hoped for you. Forgive me if this sounds odd, but I’m incredibly proud of you for that.”

“You’re very pushy, it was going to happen eventually.” Logan let out a small laugh at Roman’s answering noise of offense before clarifying, “And it’s nice to talk to you. I like having someone who’ll listen to me.”

“More people should listen to you. You’re fascinating, Logan.”

Logan felt his face heat up and his heart flutter yet again. “I— hngk.” he turned to bury his face in Roman’s shoulder. “You aren’t so bad yourself, I suppose,” he replied eventually, once his face had cooled down just a bit and his heart had slowed to a slightly more normal pace.

Roman hummed his agreement, placing a light kiss on the top of Logan’s head—which, for the record, completely nullified any progress Logan’s face and heart had made in calming themselves—before saying, “It’s getting rather late, and you’ve had a long day. We should go home.”

“Hm, we should,” Logan agreed, making no effort to move.

Roman sighed. “If you want, I could carry you.”

“What?!” Unlike Roman’s almost-squeak, Logan’s was far more obvious. “No, no, that’s alright, there’s no need for you to carry me. It’s fine, it’s all fine,” he said, standing suddenly and brushing nonexistent dirt off his clothes.

“Let us be off then!” Roman declared, kindly ignoring Logan’s flustered state and offering out his arm with a flourish.

Logan placed his hand in the crook of it, a smile that didn’t read at all as love-struck back on his face. “What a perfect gentleman.”

_________________________

After their conversation beneath the willow tree, Logan’s days passed much more peacefully. Roman wasn’t as loud and overbearing, and Logan found that talking to him about anything and everything was just as easy as it had been that night. Their days were full of laughter and happiness, and Logan finally grew comfortable with the idea of living with a—with his—guardian angel.

Logan had also grown painfully aware of the lulls in conversation whenever Roman complimented him and he found himself at a complete loss for words or when he shot Roman an unexpected smile and the angel’s face turned a shade of red almost as bright as the sash he’d had on the day Logan had met him. He was certain it couldn’t have meant much, but those lulls still blinked out at him like a neon sign on a deserted street.

…Alright, so it was possible that he wasn’t so naïve as to think that the constant state of being flustered and the constant blushing and the constant heated eye contact and everything else that had been happening meant nothing. And it was possible that he was aware that this likely meant he harbored feelings for Roman and Roman for him, but that in no way meant that he had to acknowledge these feelings.

He very much did not want to waste a month of perfectly good friendship, so he would also very much pretend these feelings did not exist.

At least, this is what he would have done had he not walked into his room one day while Roman was stretching his wings.

It was only then that Logan had realized that he hadn’t seen Roman’s wings at all since the first day they’d met and in all honesty, had nearly forgotten about him. There were times when Roman seemed so human that Logan couldn’t believe that was not the case. When he saw Roman’s wings though, he was reminded sharply of the fact that Roman was an angel, through and through.

Roman was an angel, and he was falling.

Logan assumed that this was why Roman’s wings were going black at the tips, but he still figured clarifying would be prudent. “Roman?” he asked, knocking lightly on the door frame to alert the angel to his presence.

“Logan!” Roman exclaimed, spinning around and hiding his wings behind him as best he could in one rapid movement. “What— what are you doing here, my darling?”

Giving a sigh that was altogether too fond, Logan said, “This is my room, Roman. I’m in here because I forgot my glasses on the nightstand.”

“Oh,” Roman nodded, still trying to make his wings disappear behind his body. “Yeah, that makes sense. Uh, go ahead and, um. Get your glasses so you can see. Not! That there’s anything interesting to see here.” Roman flashed him a sparkling grin, hiding the layer of panic beneath it.

“Telling me that there isn’t ‘anything interesting to see here’ is only going to convince me of the opposite. Besides, I already saw your wings. Why are they turning black?”

“That? Oh, that’s nothing!”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“…By ‘nothing,’ I of course mean nothing of importance! I tried dyeing my feathers and was checking to see how they looked. It’s not good, I know,” Roman said with a laugh, that impressively enough, barely sounded forced.

“Are you falling?” Logan asked, ignoring Roman’s explanation entirely.

“Am I— am I falling?” Roman scoffed. “Why on Earth would I be falling? There’s no reason for me to fall, is there?”

“Well, I don’t think I should know. I’m not the one who knows the rules and hierarchy of the angels. So, you tell me. What reason would there be for you—or angels in general, I suppose—to fall?”

“Ah. Angels fall when they do… something bad. You know. Bad things. Evil things.”

Logan raised an eyebrow again. “Such as?”

“Oooh, you know. Pride, sometimes. Or jealousy, sloth, lust, greed, gluttony, wrath, too much disrespect or insubordination, not doing their job, uh, consorting with the enemy, and other such wickedness. Just. General bad things, as I said.”

“So, have you been prideful?”

“Not any more than what’s healthy.”

“Jealous? Lazy? Lustful? Greedy, gluttonous, wrathful?”

“Nope.”

“And I know you haven’t been disrespectful and that you have been doing your job.”

“Mhm. See, Logan? No reason at all for me to fall.”

“What would you define ‘the enemy’ as?”

“What?”

“ ‘The enemy,’ ” Logan repeated. “As in, ‘consorting with the enemy.’ ”

“Oh! Some define it as any non-angelic entity, but most would agree that ‘the enemy’ is more along the lines of a beast from Hell or another demon of sorts. And I clearly haven’t been consorting with any demons, so—”

“Define ‘consorting’ for me in this context, will you?”

“Well, normally it would mean to closely associate yourself with someone, but, seeing as I am a guardian angel, that is sort of my job. I’m not consorting with you if that’s what you’re worried about. The only way I’d be able to properly consort with you would be if I developed some sort of bond with you outside of a normal guardian angel-mortal relationship. Which! I haven’t! I’m just helping you work through your issues, and if I just so happen to become closer to you while doing so, no one could fault me for that!”

“Roman, I hate to break it to you, but that sounds exactly like consorting with the enemy. If you’ll excuse me for pointing this out, I feel we have a relationship that is just a little bit different than a strictly professional one.”

“Okay, so maybe you’re right. But almost all good guardian angels become friends with their humans! I’m hardly the first one, and none of them have fallen.”

“Mm, I suppose that is true. Can you think of any other reason that you could be falling?”

“Well… there is this one thing? That might possibly be happening? But I sincerely doubt it is,” Roman said through blithe laughter.

“Do you admit that you are falling, then?”

“I— uh, no…?”

“That convinced me of precisely nothing, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Roman’s demeanor brightened immediately upon saying this, as though pretending that everything was fine would convince Logan that it was.

It didn’t work, clearly, as Logan asked not a moment later, “Now, what’s that thing that might possibly be happening?”

“That? Oh, nothing! Again, nothing at all of importance. I assure you I’m fine, Logan. I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt that you could. In theory, at least.” Logan couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face at Roman’s offended gasps, but he managed to continue through barely repressed laughter. “But right now, you are very much not taking care of yourself for whatever reason. Care to inform me what that’s about?”

“I mean, no. Is that an option?”

Logan sighed in fond exasperation. “I’m afraid not.”

“Well. It was worth a shot.”

“No, it really wasn’t.”

“You’re no fun. But! Nice talk, it was great to see you, Lo!”

“…What are you doing.”

“Uh, I’m going to finish getting ready for the day?”

“And are you just assuming that I forgot about the whole ’you’re falling’ thing?”

“…Yes.”

“That would be incorrect, then. Please Roman, just let me know what’s going on. It’s clear you’re hiding something, so what is it?”

Roman winced at the accusation, sitting down on the bed. “Is there anything I could say to convince you to stop prying?”

“No, nothing at all,” Logan replied, sitting down next to him.

“Then… it would be best to just say it, right? Not draw it out for too long?”

“Yes, that is what most people would prefer to do.”

“I fell in love with you, Logan.”

“You did.”

“I did.”

Logan wasn’t sure why he felt so shocked, in all honesty. He’d known that this was very likely to be true. He’d known that Roman was falling from the second he’d walked in the room, and he’d had his suspicions as to why he was a moment later. He was at a loss, then, as to why he would possibly be feeling tears on his cheeks.

“Are you… crying? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I— no. You’re fine.” Logan turned away to wipe the wetness from his cheeks before looking back up at Roman. “I believe it’s just that you—essentially, you’re falling because of me, aren’t you?”

“Well, not exactly. This is still entirely my own doing, after all.”

“But it is because you fell in love with me that you’re falling, correct?”

“I mean kind of, but I promise you that this isn’t your fault, Logan.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, wiping away the final traces of his sadness from beneath his eyes. “If I had—”

“What, been less easy to love? You aren’t easy to love, Logan, and that’s one of the infinite reasons I do love you. I had to do so much to be granted even a glimpse of who you are, and after I did… well, I can hardly fault you for being yourself.” Roman gave him a bittersweet smile. “It wasn’t any one thing that caused me to fall in love with you, it was everything that you are and were. I love you—not something that you said or did or anything else—and there’s nothing you could have done to change that. My fall isn’t your fault, Logan. I promise.”

Logan dutifully ignored the blush that began to cover his face. “Is there any way to stop an angel from falling?”

“I’m not sure. But frankly, Logan, I don’t mind falling one bit if it’s for you.”

“That’s incredibly sweet and all, but I am trying to figure out a way to save your soul here, so I’d appreciate any information you may have on hand.”

“Yes, right. I, uh, I’m sorry to say that there isn’t a way to save a fallen angel, darling. You can’t raise angels, so while I do appreciate the fact that you care for me, there’s nothing you can do.”

“You haven’t fallen though, have you?”

“No, the darkening wings just indicate that I’m going to, and I’m going to soon.”

“You haven’t fallen yet,” Logan repeated, giving Roman a pointed look.

“…Yes. That’s what I just said.”

Logan shook his head, deciding to fully explain what he was thinking himself. “So if you stop doing whatever is causing you to fall, halt the progression of black over the rest of your wings… you could still be saved. You are still an angel, so you can be saved. All you have to do is—”

“No. Absolutely not. Logan, I made you a promise, and I won’t break it. I won’t—”

“—leave me behind.”

“—leave you behind.”

“You have to. I want you to be able to remain an angel, to not fall, to be happy because I—”

“I can’t. I don’t care what happens to me as long as it means I still get to see you and spend time with you and as long as you’re happy because I—”

“—love you,” they finished in unison.

“And that’s why you have to leave.”

“And that’s why I can’t leave.”

“I love you,” they said again, perfectly in sync, the words meaning everything and not nearly enough all at once.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Logan whispered.

“So then you won’t,” Roman replied, voice just as quiet.

“But I— I know there’s no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice.”

“Not this time. No matter what you do, I lose you.”

“Logan—”

“You have to leave. You have to go back to— to heaven or whatever sort of paradise it is that you came from. At least this way, I’ll get to say goodbye.”

“Logan—”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me there’s another way, and I’ll stop.” It was a question, a challenge, but most of all, it was a plea.

“I—” Roman took a quivering breath. “You’re right. You’re always right,” he said with a slightly watery laugh. “There’s no other way. You’re right.”

There was a tragic sort of irony in that. The one time he wished more than anything that he was wrong, Logan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t. “I’m sorry,” he said as he leaned forward, resting his head against Roman’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

Logan looked up and placed a delicate kiss on Roman’s cheek. “Do you— are you alright with leaving now?”

“Now?”

“I know it’s sudden, but I— I don’t want to draw this out any longer than necessary, not while I know that you’ll be leaving soon enough anyway.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Both Logan and Roman went silent for a moment, neither moving, neither wanting the world to continue hurtling towards the end of their time together. Finally though, Roman spoke.

“How about one more day?”

“One more day?”

“Mhm. Just… spend one more day together, and then I leave tonight. So we can part with a few more beautiful memories of each other to hold on to.”

“That sounds—” Logan had to pause, clearing his throat to banish the emotion from his voice. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you have a plan?”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Logan laughed, happy to ignore the ticking countdown in the back of his head until later. “I figured I’d ask, but somehow, I didn’t think you would.”

“You know me too well, love.” Roman lightly kissed the top of Logan’s head before continuing, “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready. You’re good just wandering around town for a while, right?”

“With you?” Logan smiled. “How could I not be?”

_________________________

Time has a funny way of passing sometimes. When you’re looking forward to something, it seems to crawl. When you’re doing something you enjoy, it can become negligible and easily forgotten. When you have nothing to gauge it by, Mondays become Thursdays and Thursdays become Sundays.

And of course, when you’re dreading something, the time before it passes in a blur.

Roman and Logan’s day passed in a blur.

They’d gone to all three bookshops within walking distance of Logan’s house and the ice cream shop situated beside the final one. There was an odd little museum near the edge of town, and they’d dropped by there too. They had brunch at a charming cafe and made up stories about the people that walked past the window, perused the aisles of several stores just so Roman could try on increasingly eccentric outfits for Logan’s amusement and bought nothing. At the dog park just off of Main Street, they’d stopped to laugh with each other at the antics of the puppies that rushed to and fro before strolling along the road towards a park of their own, lined with the most beautiful flowering trees. They stopped in bakeries and candy stores, coffee shops and out-of-the-way boutiques filled to the brim with various antiques and trinkets. Logan and Roman did all that and still would have sworn they couldn’t have spent any more than four hours together.

It was, of course, closer to eight and a half hours since they’d walked into the first bookshop to the moment the sun had almost fully set and their day was over.

Time can do that to you sometimes.

Similarly to the way time had felt earlier in the day, time after the sun had set passed in flashes, quick as lightning and just as bright. The walk to their willow tree should have taken at least fifteen minutes, but it felt as short as one shallow breath.

When they did reach the willow tree, they stood there for what felt like an eternity, lost in each other’s eyes before Roman broke the silence. “Dance with me,” he said.

And though Logan had never once danced in his life, he replied, “Of course.”

Beneath the moonlight that filtered through the willow tree’s branches, Roman twirled Logan to the beat of the silence around them. Neither pointed out the lack of music, and neither mentioned that Roman had only asked to dance to put off the inevitable.

It was only when their feet grew too tired to keep moving that they stopped and stood still. Logan looked up at Roman and the stars above him, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky as to find someone like his angel, even if it was only for a fraction of his life. Roman looked down at Logan and the silver light that gleamed in his dark eyes, pondering what he had done to deserve having so little time with the love of his life before everything was ripped away.

The whole world paused as they held each other, Logan’s arms twined around Roman’s neck and Roman’s wrapped around Logan’s waist. The air felt fragile, like everything—not just their hearts—would shatter into trillions of pieces once they spoke again.

Still, time continued stubbornly forward on its path towards the end of Roman’s life on Earth—his life with Logan—so the angel spoke despite the fact that he could practically hear how the world shattered around them.

“Logan,” he started, moving his hands from Logan’s waist to brush a lock of hair behind his ear and brush the beginnings of a tear from beneath his left eye. “Logan, there are no words I can say that will truly encapsulate all that I feel for you. There is nothing in this world that could explain all that you mean to me, and there is no way for me to express the euphoria in my heart at having gotten to know and love you. Everything you are and every bit that you’ve grown causes me to fall more in love with you as the seconds tick past, and every moment I find I love you more sets a new precedent for the amount of love I’m able to give. Meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and no matter what happens, I will never, ever forget you. I love you, Logan, more than all the stars in the sky.”

“Roman,” Logan began, wracking his brain for a way for him to say everything he wanted to. “Did you know that if you were trapped in a black hole and you peeked out, you’d see everything that had ever happened and will ever happen in that tiny patch of sky?” he asked, settling on what he knew how to do best: teach.

“This is because black holes are so dense that they distort time itself. The universe slows down and speeds up on a whim, and the passage of time means nothing at all. You could enter a black hole today, and if by some miracle you managed to escape, you’d emerge thousands of years into the future though to you, it would have felt to be mere minutes. This ‘time dilation,’ as it were, would allow you to look ahead of you and see everything that had fallen into the black hole before you and if you managed to turn around, you’d see everything that would fall in after. So, if by some miracle you had enough presence of mind to observe the world around you as you neared the event horizon, you would be able to see the entirety of what had happened in your small corner of the universe when you did. Everything would be moving so much faster than light itself that you’d be able to watch the whole evolution of the universe happen—from the Big Bang to the end of life as we know it—all at once, over and over again.

“But you know, I think if it were me in that black hole, looking out at the creation and destruction of the universe, the rise and fall, again and again, all I’d be able to think about was being here with you in this moment. I don’t care one bit about seeing the rest of the universe when I have something more precious to me than all the stars in the sky—when I have you.”

Roman’s jaw had dropped at some point while Logan had been speaking, awed by the love and eloquence in his words. “Beautiful,” he whispered as he brushed a hand over Logan’s cheek, unable to say anything else and unwilling to shatter the silence any further.

Then a breeze blew through their hair, and Logan and Roman were reminded abruptly that the rest of the world existed.

“You have to leave,” Logan said, and it was at once an order and a lament. He took one step back, and it was the most painful thing he’d ever done.

“I do,” Roman agreed, and it was at once an acknowledgment and a form of mourning. He unfurled his wings, and it hurt more than anything else he’d done in his immortal life. They opened fully, glowing a brilliant white against the darkness as he flapped them once, lifting off the ground. He flapped them a second time, and he was well into the air, barely close enough to reach out a hand and brush it against Logan’s face. “Goodbye, my darling. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Roman’s hand began to pull away, and before he knew what he was doing, Logan’s own hand shot out and grasped his wrist as he said with sudden intensity, “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you? Just once, just to remember you by.”

“I wish I could give you thousands of kisses, Logan. Of course you may have this one.”

With that, Roman floated down slightly, feet still a few inches off the ground as though he knew that if he landed he’d never leave. Placing a gentle hand on Logan’s cheek, he leaned towards him, preparing for a soft, sweet kiss.

Logan seemed to have other plans though, for he laid his hands on Roman’s face and dragged him closer, standing on his tiptoes to reach Roman’s lips and meet them in a kiss so passionate the flame burning between them could have set the whole world aflame.

Logan didn’t pull back for a long while, refusing to come up for air because he knew—he knew—that when he did, it would mean Roman’s goodbye would be permanent. But he was human and had to breathe eventually, so pull back he did. Even then, though, he still wouldn’t remove his hands from Roman’s face.

“I love you,” Logan said once more, resting his forehead against Roman’s.

“I love you too. Goodb—”

“Don’t say goodbye. Please. I don’t want to think about the fact that I— I won’t— I won’t ever be able to see you again. Just say I love you. Those can be—” Logan swallowed hard, but he continued holding Roman’s face in his hands as though it were a lifeline. “Those can be your last words to me. Better than goodbye, I think.”

“Okay,” Roman whispered, fluttering his wings gently as he gradually lifted himself farther and farther away from Logan. “I love you, Logan. I always will.” Roman didn’t wait for a response, wiping the tears glistening in his eyes away as he fluttered into the sky and vanished in a bright flash of light.

He was gone.

Logan took a breath, willing it to stay calm. It hitched anyway, and his voice came out similarly unsteady as he said to empty air, “I love you too, Roman. Always. Always, and more than all the stars in the sky.” If he really listened, Logan could almost imagine he heard those final words echoing back at him, falling from the sky the same way Roman almost had.

_________________________

Roman was falling.

He was falling, and his wings hadn’t turned black. He was falling, and he wasn’t screaming in pain. He was falling, and he was smiling.

He was falling, and Logan was staring at the sky in disbelief as he did.

And that’s why, for the life of him, he could not figure out why Roman appeared to be falling from the sky.

Roman wasn’t supposed to be falling from the sky. Roman was supposed to be in heaven or whatever sort of paradise it was that he lived in because Logan’s heartbreak hadn’t been for nothing, because Roman leaving had meant something, because their dual sacrifice had ensured that he would be safe.

So why the fuck was he falling now?

And where were his wings? If he were falling, shouldn’t they be as dark and black as night?

Something was wrong. Logan didn’t know what, but something was wrong. He had to get to Roman.

Logan wasn’t normally one for running, but he did make sure to keep himself in shape. That, combined with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, caused him to arrive at the field of wildflowers in record time. As long as Logan’s sense of direction was sound, he was sure that Roman had, for whatever reason, appeared to be falling straight for their willow tree.

Panting, Logan slowed down as he scoured the ground for the place Roman had fallen.

“I’m up here, love.”

Logan looked up. “You’re on top of a willow tree.”

“Astute,” Roman agreed.

“Why are you on top of a willow tree?” Logan asked, refusing to ask the question he wanted the answer to most of all.

Roman shrugged. “It’s just where I fell. I didn’t have any control over that.”

“Right,” Logan said, only slightly distracted by the fact that Roman was currently leaping from branch to branch in an attempt to reach the ground. “So then,” he began, figuring that putting this off any longer didn’t make the least bit of sense, “why did you fall? And doesn’t falling usually entail becoming… you know.”

“A demon? Yeah, it normally does. But I’m a special case,” Roman grinned as he made one final jump and landed on solid ground.

“Yes, I’d say you very much are.” Ignoring Roman’s spluttering response as he continued to make his way towards the angel, Logan asked, “But in this particular scenario, how so?”

With an annoyed huff—presumably still directed at Logan’s previous comment—Roman replied, “I didn’t technically fall, not in the way you’d think of it, since I did nothing wrong. So I’m not a demon, but I’m also not an angel anymore.”

“So what are you, then?”

“Human.”

“Wh— How?”

“Easy,” Roman said, tucking a lock of Logan’s hair behind his ear the moment he drew near enough for Roman to do so. “You know how I fell in love with you? And you fell in love with me?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You think I could forget? It’s not as though that’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past several weeks.”

“Yes, well, my point is that angels are creatures of love, of course, so once my boss figured out why I came back, She decided that tearing me away from the love of my life went entirely against everything angels stood for.”

“And that… caused you to fall?”

“Not exactly. That caused Her to give me a choice: stay an immortal angel until the end of time, helping people as I always had or fall to Earth and become a human so I could still be with you.”

“And you chose to come back. You chose to be human. You chose—”

“You.”

“Me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else, my darling.”

“Roman—” Logan stopped, suddenly finding himself unable to speak.

“Yes, love?”

Still lacking the words he needed, Logan instead took another step forward at the same time Roman did, and their lips met in the space between them for their second-ever kiss.

“I love you,” Roman said, voicing what Logan could have only hoped to.

For once, Logan was more action than words as he kissed Roman again. It was a promise—a promise to them both that their kisses would be just as numerous as the very stars Roman had helped to create, their love just as beautiful.

“More than all the stars in the sky,” Logan replied finally, lips still a hairsbreadth from Roman’s, voice barely a whisper.

“More than all the stars in the sky.”

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

#sander sides #logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #guardian angel!roman #neuroscientist!logan #sander sides fanfiction #angst with a happy ending #not eating mention #swearing #fanfic #fic.txt

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whyiask · 3 years

Text

it didn’t matter anyways

ships: platonic LAMP & platonic or romantic Princxiety WC: 2526 Summary: set post POF, Roman has a breakdown and Virgil is there to help him tw: crying, little bit of blood, self-deprecating thoughts, depressing thoughts(kinda), tell me if I missed any genre: HURT/COMFORT with mostly hurt and a tiny bit of comfort at the end

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Roman wanted to be angry. He should’ve felt angry, but as he sunk out and popped up in his room, a cold iciness had settled in his chest, numbing him to the core. It didn’t matter anyways. He didn’t deserve to feel angry. He had no right to.

Inside Roman’s skull, his mind was turning, spinning, crashing around and turning upside down. What was right side up anymore? Had he ever been right before? It didn’t matter, nothing did. His chest had gone numb and his head had betrayed him, twirling dangerously on its axis as his entire world turned upside down.

Deceit was wrong… no, he was right now. Roman struggled to keep up with the others, he always had. J- Deceit has used him, manipulated him, tricked him, and it was Roman’s fault. Deceit wove one pretty speech and suddenly he was the good guy and Roman was still at fault.

Good guy, bad guy. Relative terms. Life wasn’t pure black and white, Roman knew that. It still hurt. With a gasp, Roman hit the ground with his fist. To feel something. Anything. He wondered vaguely when he had dropped to his knees, but it didn’t matter. It never mattered.

His head was swimming and his vision was blurring- it took all of his remaining strength to keep from falling over, curling up in a ball, and never standing up again. With a grunt of effort, Roman pushed himself off of the floor, clinging desperately to the wall as his knees shook below him, silent sobs wracking his body. He shuddered and sank back down, tucking his knees against his chest and burying his head in his arms. How pathetic was he? He couldn’t even stand.

It was not okay not okay not okay not ok- but did it really matter? Did it matter if he was okay? No, the answer was no, it was always no, because he was in the wrong here. Wrong, wrong wrong wrong wrong-

Roman didn’t know when the tears had started. He was heaving in great lungfuls of air and still couldn’t breathe. More moisture dripped down his face but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It didn’t matter anyways-

I wouldn’t be able to tell who the evil twin is.

Ja- Deceit’s voice echoed in his head, pounding through his skull. He curled tighter around himself, whimpering pathetically, as the voices grew louder, more persistent, stronger, changing the words, slapping his harshly across the face as the words became steadily crueler and crueler. Logically, Roman knew that Jan- Deceit- had never said the things he was hearing, neither had Patton, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Even if they hadn’t said them out loud, he knew they had been thinking it.

It’s hard to tell who the evil twin is.

Roman covered his ears fruitlessly. His breath was coming in increasingly shorter gasps and his fingernails dug into his skull. No no no no no no no-

I know who the evil twin is.

Roman pressed his hands harder, not noticing the blood starting to drip from his temples. He didn’t notice how his room shook and twisted, nor the way his clothes were slowly but surely fading in color.

The evil twin.

Pictures were falling off of the wall. Rain was pouring down in heavy waves. His mind was shaking and his room was shaking- he was shivering and crying and wasn’t breathing- but he didn’t notice. The only thing he could feel was Deceit’s words, twisting themselves round and round, stewing, bubbling in his head, warping reality and invading every thought. There was a steady pounding in Roman’s skull- or maybe that was the room, he couldn’t tell.

Evil.

With a gasp of horror- or, he would’ve gasped if he had remembered how to breathe- he realized he couldn’t hear J- Deceit’s voice anymore. But the voice hadn’t stopped. It wasn’t Patton either, nor his brother. It was him. His own thoughts echoed back at him, reverberating around his buzzing skull and he tugged at his hair uselessly, desperate for the cruel voice of himself to stop, stop talking, stop yelling, stop-

It stopped. The room had stopped shaking- maybe Roman had a better grasp of his emotions, maybe he simply didn’t have the energy to feel any more. The world came to a stand still, and Roman nearly almost took a breath, allowed himself a moment of relief.

But it was not meant to be.

“Everything is gonna be okay, kiddo,” a vision of Patton flashed dangerously in Roman’s mind eye. “Don’t worry, I know who the evil twin is.”

That was all it took for Roman to double over himself, curling farther into himself and rocking back and forth with dry sobs. He didn’t have any tears left.

The pounding in his skull was getting louder, faster. With a sudden jolt, he sat up straight, staring at his door with glazed eyes. It wasn’t in his head. Someone was banging on his door.

“Kiddo, please open the door,” the real Patton’s voice begged.

Roman shrank in on himself. Normally, he would never allow anyone to see him like this, ever. But it didn’t matter anyways, did it? It did matter, it matters it matters it matters it…

It was a good time for realization, as Roman had made many that day. About Deceit, Janus, about himself and about his twisted perspective of the world. It had been a big day of realization after horrifying realization. He could dwell on that later. At the moment, Roman made one more realization: he realized- and became acutely aware of- the fact that he had not breathed in a solid two minutes, and with his lungs compressing and his winded state, it seemed unlikely he could call out to Patton at all.

He sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t working.

Another voice joined Patton at the door. In his slightly delirious state, he could still recognize it instantly as Virgil. They conversed briefly- Roman was too tired to make out the words- and then Virgil called through the door.

“Roman?” A pause. “Roman, I know you’re in there. Can you come out? You’re starting to worry us. Your room was shaking just a minute ago?” It was phrased as a question, but Roman could hear the- well, the anxiety- behind his words. He almost could’ve laughed, but the whole air thing still wasn’t cooperating.

“Hey, I- we’re getting worried. Please say something back, or else I’m coming in.”

Roman tried again, breaths getting more frantic by the second. His pulse was speeding up again as he desperately took in shallow breaths, chest barely rising.

“Is Roman in there?” A new voice- Logan- called out. It was father away than the others, so Roman figured he was just now coming down the hallway, most likely to check out the shaking.

Not a second later, the door flew open. Virgil stepped inside, before jumping back out with a yelp of alarm.

“It’s raining in there,” Virgil sounded taken aback. “Is that even a thing?”

Was it? Roman thought the rain had stopped, but apparently not. It probably wasn’t a good thing he felt this numb, this out of touch with his own body.

Patton nudged Virgil aside and stepped into the room, fatherly concern written all over his face. He spotted Roman in the corner almost immediately, running over as fast as he could and kneeling beside him.

“Roman,” he gasped. “Are you okay?” He reached out but didn’t touch Roman, unsure of what to do.

At Patton’s gasp, Virgil and Logan came back into the room. Virgil’s face melted into one of horror and Logan took a mini step backwards. Roman laughed internally. He must’ve looked like a hot mess. Nay, not hot, cool. Nay, not cool, uncool. An uncool mess. He supposed that’s exactly what he was.

An uncool, pathetic mess. But it didn’t matter anyways.

He still couldn’t breathe.

Virgil noticed this almost instantly, rushing to the fallen prince’s side. “Can I touch you?” he asked quietly, and at Roman’s small nod, he placed a hand on Roman’s arm.

“Roman, Princey, you have to breathe- okay? You have to, come on. Breathe with me.” Virgil slowed his breathing, counting on his fingers, and slowly, Roman copied him, breathing in sync with Virgil. Logan crouched on Roman’s other side, reciting the counts with Virgil in a low, soothing tone.

It felt better. He could breathe again. The hand tightening around his chest began to loosen and he could breathe, it felt so good-

Patton pulled him into a hug. Roman stiffened at the contact, but relaxed into the strong arms, biting his lip to hold back another onslaught of tears.

“What happened?” Logan asked quietly after a moment of silence.

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” Roman muttered, pulling back from Patton and slumping against the wall again. Logan blinked in surprise and Patton made a small sad noise. Virgil stayed quiet.

“Kiddo, you know we’re here for you, right?”

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” He repeated the words like a mantra, the only thing keeping him from cracking open.

Virgil spoke up. “Ro, why do you keep saying that?”

Roman flinched back. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Patton insisted. “We all made,” his eyes darkened as he spoke, “a lot of mistakes, but that doesn’t mean your feelings don’t matter!”

Logan coughed.

“Except for Logan, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Patton amended.

“Yes, thank you,” Logan sniffed. “But I do have to agree with Patton on this one, Princey. We would like to listen to your problems and assist in brainstorming possible solutions.”

Roman gave a watery laugh. Nobody laughed with him.

Virgil was staring at him oddly.

“What?”

Virgil took a deep breath. “Hey Pat, Lo?” he addressed them without taking his eyes off of Roman. “Can you give us the room for a moment? I promise we’ll be right out. Maybe go bake some cookies in preparation? For a movie night.” He added the last part as an afterthought, lower and darker than the rest of his statement. “I think we all need it.”

Patton looked uncertainly at Roman, who simply nodded his head. Logan grabbed Patton by the arm gently and led him from the room, closing the door behind them for privacy.

Virgil continued to stare at Roman with his deep, expressive eyes, and Ro started to fidget under the stare.

“Are you okay?” the words were spoken softly, a mere whisper off Virgil’s tongue, but Roman could hear them clearly.

“No,” he said honestly. It didn’t matter anyways. Virgil wasn’t going to care, and it was better than possibly catching the attention of a certain snake-scaled lie detector. Still the word felt foreign on his tongue.

Virgil frowned slightly. “You’re bleeding.”

Roman looked up in surprise. “I am?” It was the first genuine emotion he’d shown since the others had arrived, and a small smiled graced Virgil’s lips, even despite the situation at hand.

Virgil waved his hand and summoned a first aid kit. He offered it to Roman, who hesitated for a moment before declining. The prince was surprised at himself- he normally never let anyone else take care of him. However, he supposed, after his... his breakdown, he needed it. Virgil worked in silence for the most part, taking Roman’s hands gently when he was done.

“I-” he hesitated, searching for the words. “I don’t know what happened, and I haven’t seen the video yet, but I am truly sorry for whatever they did to hurt you like this.”

“I’m sure you’ll think differently after watching it then,” Roman turned away, avoiding eye contact.

“Princey, what-”

“I’m the bad guy, okay?” he burst out. “I’m the bad guy, I’m the bad guy, I’m the bad guy and I always have been! I’ve been too blind to see it.” He punched the wall behind him. “Too blind, too stupid, too slow to keep pace with all of you, too loud when I’m stating my opinion, not helping enough when I try to keep quiet. The bad guy when I side with Deceit and-” he took a shuddering breath, fizzling out from his outburst.

“And…?” Virgil prompted.

“And still the bad guy when I side against him.”

Roman could see the gears turning in Virgil’s head.

“So…” he began slowly. “You sided against Deceit in this most recent video, and- and the others said you were on the wrong side? That seems awfully hypocritical of them.”

Roman looked down. “I was horrible.”

Virgil’s head snapped up to stare at Roman. “Don’t say that,” he said. “You are not horrible, you aren’t a bad person, maybe you made a mistake-”

“That’s the thing!” Roman shouted to the ceiling. “It’s not just ‘a mistake’ it’s not ‘one mistake.’ It’s not even two! It’s just mistake, after mistake, after mistake, after mistake. I say I’ll get better and then I don’t- you all move on to new things and I’m too slow to catch up. Apology after apology, mistake after mistake. I’m a mistake.”

Roman uttered the last sentence so quietly, Virgil had to strain to hear him. His face hardened as the words registered in his mind.

“Roman,” Virgil said firmly. “You are not a mistake. You never have been. They’re wrong, they are in the wrong for making you feel this way. This is not okay. I’ll have a talk with the others later about this, I won’t share anything if you don’t want me to…?” Virgil trailed off uncertainly, a question lingering in the air.

“Please don’t tell them what I said.”

Virgil pursed his lips. “Alright, if that’s what you want.” He stood up, stretching his arms out, and offered a hand to Roman. The prince took it gratefully hauling himself up and taking a moment to steady himself. He shot an unsteady grin at Virgil, who smirked back.

Roman hesitated before stepping forward.

“Thank you, Vee.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “What, no witty nickname?”

Roman looked him straight in the eye. “Not today.”

“Well, then you are welcome, Roman. Ready to go talk to the others?” Virgil extended his hand and Roman took it, squeezing tightly before pulling Virgil into a full hug. It lasted a moment before he pulled away, slightly misty eyed.

Roman followed Virgil out the door, leaving behind as many insecurities, issues, and tears as he could. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was nice to have finally been allowed to say what was on his mind without repercussions. He took a deep breath, smoothing out the wrinkles of his prince costume, before changing his mind and snapping into a hoodie and sweatpants for something more comfortable.

And so what if nothing was fine? He might’ve been breaking down a few minutes ago, but now he was feeling lighter than he had in ages and was walking hand in hand with someone who loved him- just fo being him- they were family, after all.

Nothing was fine. Nothing was okay. Things were still going to be hard.

but what did that matter anyways?

----

Taglist:

Okay so- @queenofsassgard @arushahisatroll @introvertedtater-tot when you asked to be on the taglist, did you mean just the AU taglist or any sanders sides fic in general? because if it’s the first option, then i’m so sorry about the tag aha-

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #post pof #post svsr #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders centric #roman-centric #angst with a tiny bit of comfort at the end

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theatresweetheart · 4 years

Text

Blink and You’ll Miss It

Summary: Roman has been crushing hard on his best friend but not wanting to break up the group or risk Virgil hating him, he suffers in silence. Up until Logan has had enough of it.

Warnings: Swearing, anxious thoughts/feelings, kissing. (I think that’s it, but let me know!)

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety, Romantic Logicality.

Word Count: 3264 words

A/n: This was just a fun little write that I did quite a while ago. I just wanted to get it posted! Hope y’all enjoy!

Taglist: @isle-of-gold (if you ever want to be on my taglist, feel free to shoot me a message or an ask!)

~—~—~—~—~—~

It was the little things.

It was the little things that someone would overlook without a second thought when one glanced at another person.

Anyone else wouldn’t care how Virgil’s eyelashes fluttered when he rested his eyes for a moment because he didn’t sleep well that night. They wouldn’t care about the way he tapped his fingers on his thigh when he was relaxed or nodding along to the beat of the music blaring in his over-sized headphones. Or how he would bite his lower lip when he was concentrating or thinking about something abstract. Or the twitch of the corner of his lips when someone said something vaguely amusing, or the way he would cover his mouth if he laughed a little too loudly.

It was the little things that someone wouldn’t notice unless they were absolutely enamored with another person.

And it was noticing these little things that got Roman caught.

He tried not to make it obvious that he was staring and for the most part, he wasn’t.

But there were some times where he just couldn’t help himself.

“You’re staring again, Roman.”

The monotonous—yet slightly amused—voice snapped said daydreamer out of his thoughts and back to the current task at hand. A textbook spread over the dark table of the study room and his notebook, a pencil thoughtlessly in his hand. When he shook himself, his eyes drifted away from the sight in front of him down to the small doodles he had sketched mindlessly while in his daze.

He then felt his cheeks flush slightly.

“I’m not staring,” he mumbled. When Logan snorted quietly off to the side, Roman raised his eyes to the bespectacled student. Upon seeing the teasing grin on the other’s features, his brows pinched forwards in frustration, though the heat of embarrassment was there as well. “I’m serious, I’m not staring.”

“Certainly not,” Logan mused, returning his own attention to the textbooks in front of him, beginning to write more notes to his already excessive list. “Staring would consist of not looking away from a certain subject for more than five minutes—which you did not do, mind you.”

At that, Roman felt more pink painting his cheeks.

He sunk a bit lower into the chair he was sitting in and let his eyes rove the rest of the study room. Virgil and Patton were seated on the couch together, talking about something or other.

God, Roman wished he didn’t have his last final coming up in a few days. He wished that he could be the one talking about nonsense with the short brunette dressed in that over-sized hoodie, telling him dumb jokes that made him break into a stupidly cute smile. To be able to see the way his stupidly handsome eyes lit up and crinkled when his stupidly sweet laugh sounded unabashed and loud.

Even now, dressed in his usual black and purple hoodie, the headphones draped over his shoulders, Virgil looked just as stupidly handsome as ever.

He just looked so at peace. It was one of the few times where he wasn’t stressed about anything and/or everything and he didn’t look overly exhausted.

When Virgil had been going through his own finals…holy shit.

He had looked like an honest to God train-wreck. Roman was convinced that Virgil hadn’t slept a wink. He had survived on caffeine and the anxiety of failing his classes if he even rested his eyes a wink.

Roman couldn’t count on one hand how many times he brought Virgil a coffee. And those were just in the daylight hours, who knew what had happened past midnight and on.

But now. Now he looked relaxed and comfortable.

Roman didn’t catch what Patton had said, but it didn’t take long before Virgil’s laugh was the only thing he could hear and suddenly his heart skipped a couple beats.

“This is why it would have been better not to have invited them,” Logan said from beside him as an afterthought, scribbling something else down, “that way you wouldn’t be so distracted and, in turn, wouldn’t be distracting me with your nonsensical romantics.”

“It’s not my fault you’re immune to feelings,” Roman grumbled, “at least pretend that your boyfriend is in the same room as you.”

“Patton knows I care, Roman,” Logan pushed his glasses up with the eraser on the end of his pencil. “I do not have to stare at him every second of every hour for him to know that. You on the other hand seem to be hopeless.”

Oh what did Logan know? He was the one that pretended he didn’t feel anything and then proceeded to attempt to avoid Patton for an entire week upon realizing he cared about him in a way that meant ‘more than a friend.’

Then again, there was the word attempted to avoid him.

So, he wasn’t one to talk.

“Can you keep your voice down, please?” He said instead. “I don’t want them to hear you.”

“I think what you mean to say is, you don’t want Virgil hearing your lovesick yammering.”

“It is not ‘lovesick yammering,’ thank you,” Roman let the pencil finally fall from his fingers, as he had finished twiddling with it and instead rubbed his hands down his face. “I just—I don’t know, how did you and Pat figure out you liked each other?”

“I attempted to avoid him in the hope that the feelings I had acquired for his presence would go away,” Logan hummed, looking up to the other student currently hiding his face in his arms. “Patton has just always been open about how he felt about being around me and he initiated the relationship. You know that.”

“Yes I know that,” Roman’s voice was mumbled as he hid his face further in the crooks of his arms, bunching a few papers on the desk which then prompted Logan to push his textbooks and his own notebooks away to keep from his own pages getting crumpled. “Yeah, but how did you tell each other?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You know the answer to that too.”

“I know I do, but come on,” he turned his head enough to see the brown-eyed man looking back at him.

“You are the creative one, wouldn’t you want to do something elaborate to admit your feelings to him?”

Roman huffed.

Of course he wanted to do something elaborate and cute and romantic and make a big gesture, but doing something like that would most likely make Virgil uncomfortable and feel as if he was forced to say yes instead of wanting to say yes genuinely and Roman didn’t want him to be miserable.

What kind of relationship would that be?

“…no.”

“Oh? So you do know that doing something over the top would overwhelm him.”

“Ugh.”

Then, there it was again. That sweet sound of a snort and then laughter coming from just in front of him.

Roman raised his head just enough to catch the sight of Virgil using a hand to cover his mouth, but his shoulders were shaking with amusement and his eyes were squeezed shut, crinkled with mirth. When the golden brown eyes had reopened, they were slightly wet showing just how hard he had been laughing and the tears of laughter shimmered on his eyelashes in the fading sunlight of the evening.

He felt his heart stammer again.

Roman was stupidly enamored with how pretty Virgil was.

“I hate him,” he groaned.

“No you don’t,” Logan chuckled. A sound that they heard more often than ever before, but it was still nothing to take lightly.

He rolled his head to face Logan, but still resting them on his arms. His textbook and notes laying forgotten. “No I don’t.”

It was hard. Having fallen so hard for someone and not being able to say anything. It was hard enough for him being in the same room as Virgil without ending up staring at him. Logan made it seem so easy. But he was also right; as much as Roman said he hated the other boy, he really didn’t. Such a strong negative word didn’t communicate the right feelings.

He could say he loathed Virgil and it would be difficult for anyone to believe him.

The things that a normal person wouldn’t notice were the only details that Roman could focus on and it was driving him insane.

“I have had enough of this,” Logan’s voice snapped Roman from his trance for a third time, the sounds of textbooks slamming shut was his final warning, “you are absolutely pathetic.” Before the other student even had the wits to say something, Logan was speaking up. “Patton, would you care to join me for a walk around campus?”

At the request, both Patton and Virgil turned to face the two sitting at the table. A huge grin alighted Patton’s face and he nodded eagerly, happy to get out of the study room for some fresh air.

Within the next few seconds, Logan had packed his things up and back into his backpack that was pulled over his shoulder comfortably and his fingers interlaced with his boyfriend’s.

Roman knew exactly what Logan was doing and he was going to strangle his roommate for doing it, he swore to God.

It also didn’t take long before Patton was leading Logan outside, happily chatting at him a mile a minute. But Roman didn’t miss the smug look Logan shot back in his direction, clearly saying without vocalizing it; ‘do something you hopeless romantic moron.’

The door to the study room closed, leaving the two other students in the silence of each other. It took only a second before Virgil snorted, shaking his head. “They’re disgusting,” he mused, a teasing grin on his stupidly handsome features. “It’s all that cute romance and stuff. Like, a walk around campus? Please. How cliche can you get?”

“Ha, yeah,” Roman laughed halfheartedly, partly hating the fact that he had thought of that before. “Gross.”

Their campus was actually something to behold in the fading hours of the day, especially by the large pond just as one entered the property. There were benches that lined it and long nature walks that would be incredibly romantic. He flexed his hands underneath the table self-consciously.

Though, Roman pretended not to notice the tiny shift in Virgil’s face. The concerned look that he was getting in response to his curt agreement. He pretended that his heart didn’t leap at the fact that Virgil was concerned for him. They were friends, friends got concerned about each other, it was just because he was being a good guy. Not because he saw him in that sort of way.

“Hey, something the matter?” He shifted to sit a bit more comfortably on the couch, his arms folded over the back of it so he could see Roman clearly. “You seemed fine a couple minutes ago.”

Roman shook his head, offering a tight smile in return. “I’m peachy keen, don’t worry about me.”

“Worrying is the one thing I do best, Roman,” Virgil snorted, though that bothered look never left his face. Instead, it almost solidified. When he didn’t get a sound in response, he frowned a bit more. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?”

Not this. I can’t tell you this. I can tell you anything but this.

“Seriously, Virge, it’s fine.”

Roman’s attention flickered back down to his notebook, seeing the doodles in the corners and the slightly crumpled pages. His textbook still laid open and the question he had been working on before he had gotten…distracted was still circled and unfinished. Taking his eyes off of Virgil for those few seconds was really his downfall because not a minute later, a hand planted directly onto the textbook Roman was staring blankly at and pulling it away from him.

Virgil closed it without a second thought and it snapped the other’s attention up to him.

“There is something seriously wrong,” he stated bluntly—one of Virgil’s best traits really, how he didn’t beat around the bush. “You’re not being a drama queen or extra or nearly as annoying as usual. What’s wrong?”

Roman could already hear Logan chastising for not saying anything, but as he looked at his friend—as he really looked at Virgil, Roman didn’t see malice. He didn’t see anything that said he was going to use this information against him if he were honest. He saw a genuine look of concern, a soft light flickering behind soft brown eyes as he tried to get any sort of honest answer.

Roman didn’t want to lie to his friend, but was now really the time to confess that he had been secretly in love with his best friend for months? A study room where he was struggling to concentrate? Where it felt as though the windows hadn’t been cracked in a week and where students came to cry over their homework?

Roman bit his lower lip, letting his eyes drift away from Virgil’s and scouring the room as if looking for a way out- an excuse to distract the both of them from this conversation.

Roman startled when there was suddenly warmth encompassing his hand and his eyes were drawn down to them, seeing Virgil’s holding his own.

Immediately he could feel the warmth creeping up his neck and seeping into his cheeks, the pounding in his chest telling him just how much this little action meant to him without the other boy evening knowing it.

“You can tell me anything,” he said, “you know that. Did you kill someone? I’ll help you hide the body, if that’s the case. I’ve watched so many crime documentaries that I can make it look like an accident.”

“I’m sure you could,” Roman laughed, thankful for the little break in the tense atmosphere. “But no, no. Nothing— nothing nearly as entertaining as that.”

Virgil softened a little, tightening his hold for a moment. “Then what could possibly be so bad that you can’t tell me?”

Roman was risking absolutely everything if he came right out about it. He was risking Virgil’s friendship, he was risking breaking the four of them apart because if Virgil didn’t like him back it would ruin everything. He would much rather suffer in silence and keep the four of them together as a squad, then break it up because he was some hopeless romantic loser.

“Promise me you won’t hate me when I‌ tell you,” Roman started off, finally interlacing his fingers back with Virgil’s.

Said boy’s eyes widened in slight surprise at the request. It seemed as if that wasn’t what he had been expecting to hear. “Roman why would I—”

“Just promise me, Virgil. Please.”

Hearing the pleading tone, Virgil sighed and nodded his head. “Alright, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die and all that dramatic shit.”

The attempt at humour went unnoticed and Roman sobered up rather quickly. “Look, this is going to sound so lame. But I, uh, I‌… I‌ like you and I‌ have for a long time and it’s just been…difficult being around you all the time and not telling you because you, God, you’re so pretty it’s actually not fair and your laugh is incredible—it’s like bells ringing and the sound of pure Heaven—and you just have these eyes that seem to shimmer whenever you start talking about something you love even if I don’t understand it. And Jesus, the way you can just get so passionate about stuff but only to the point where you’re doing something good to do good, not to be recognized for it and I just— I‌ don’t want to ruin this friendship because I’m some hopeless romantic loser that shoots too high for the stars and—”

While Virgil had been effectively shocked into silence, the way Roman had just kept rambling it was obvious that this was some verbal vomit, yes, but it was also a bunch of anxiety as well. Which Virgil knew how to identify all too well.

“Princey take a breath,” he cut the other off, keeping him from droning on too long. He could see the pink growing redder in his friend’s face and now he was avoiding looking at him. As if he had been caught with his hand stuck directly into the cookie jar and was waiting for immediate rejection and retaliation. “…do you like me in like a friend way or in a– a gay way?”

Roman laughed incredulously, almost unsure if Virgil was teasing to be cruel or if he was genuinely unsure. When he looked up to meet his eyes, Roman could see that Virgil was genuinely unsure. “Yeah,”‌ he chuckled nervously, “in a gay way.”

“Thank God,” Virgil laughed, his nose scrunching as he looked down at the boy sitting in the chair, from his seated spot on the table.

“I’m sorry,” Roman leaned back, bringing Virgil’s entire face back into focus but didn’t let go of his hand. “What?”

“Thank God,” Virgil repeated, leaning down on his knees a bit more. “Heaven knows I‌ wouldn’t have been able to confess to you.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to say I‌ like you too.” Virgil grabbed Roman’s other hand and held them both in his own, meeting his eyes and holding them. “In a gay way, you oblivious idiot. Hell, I’m surprised Patton managed to keep it a secret for so long. I‌ love him, everyone knows that, but he’s got loose lips and any longer and the entire school probably would have known.”

Roman swallowed, trying to digest what he had just been told. How the boy of his dreams with the pretty brown eyes and blindingly bright smile was actually looking back at him, telling him that he felt the same way.

“You mean it?” His voice came out softer, unsure and quiet.

“’Course I‌ do,”‌ Virgil told him, reassurance in his tone. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. I can be an ass, yeah, but not when it comes to shit like this.” He squeezed Roman’s hands and ducked into the other’s sight line once more. “So? What do you say?‌ I’m no good at all this relationship stuff, but I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.”

“Well of course!”‌

Roman didn’t mean for it to come out as loudly or as excited as it did, but he felt an explosion of warmth in his chest and suddenly, everything was okay. His last final was a distant thought as he shot forward and met Virgil in an energized and surprisingly confident kiss. The other’s lips were just as soft as he had thought they had been and he could feel the other leaning into it as well after getting over his initial surprise.

And the kiss was soft and warm and Roman could feel those fireworks in his chest—the kind that one read about in fairy tales, the kind of fireworks he had always dreamed of having.

Almost as soon as Roman had realized what had happened, he jolted back as if he had been burned. “Shit, I shouldn’t have.. sorry, Virgil I‌ should have–”

“Oh shut up and kiss me again.”

Well, Roman was never one to disappoint.

Especially not when the front of his shirt was being grabbed and he was being pulled right back in.

Yes, Roman was still going to strangle Logan, knowing that he did all of this on purpose, but right now such a thing could wait.

He had more important matters on his hands.

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ask-warped-rose · 3 years

Text

practice makes perfect

“So… What should we practice first?” asks Virgil, looping his guitar strap around his body. He fiddles with the tuning pegs of his bass absently as looks around the studio.

“Um,” Roman clears his throat. He asks, more than says, “I have a song?”

“I’m sure it’s a masterpiece,” Janus scoffs. They roll their eyes, and Roman can feel their glare from behind the drum set. “But I have a better song.”

“How do you know it’s better?” Roman does his best to sound impartial, but his hurt seeps into his words. “You haven’t even heard mine.”

“Because, Reyes, everything I do is better than you,” they shrug. “And I sent the song to the others so they actually know it, instead of showing up to a rehearsal and expecting everyone to want to play my song.”

“Are you trying to make me look like a fool?”

“I don’t have to try, you self-centred, arrogant—“

“Alright, okay, that’s enough!” Logan cuts in. His hands fly up between the ex-lovers, as if his physical barrier would stop the verbal argument. “If you two are going to bicker like children, maybe we should abandon this.”

“No!” Roman shouts, a little too quick and too loud. “No. I can… I can be civilized, as long as they promise to not insult me every chance they get.”

“Janus?” Logan looks at them expectantly.

“Sure, whatever,” Janus shrugs. “Let’s get going on the song.”

“That was fun!” Remus giggles. “Maybe next time someone can throw a punch!”

“No,” the other four say in unison, to everyone’s collective shock.

“Roman, take a seat,” Logan instructs after the moment passes. “We’ll play the song to start and you can learn it afterwards.”

Roman grumbles something, but sits down anyway. His stomach drops when he sees Janus move their mic down, clearly in position for them to sing.

“It’s called Checkmate,” Janus smirks as they begin laying down the beat.

Objectively, Roman has to admit it's a well written song. Emotionally, however, every single lyric feels like a blow to the chest, one after the other, and he hates the song.

The final note rings out and Janus looks up at Roman, grinning the same mischievous smile he fell in love with in the first place.

“Thoughts?” Janus laughs.

“It’s a good song,” Roman chokes out. “I like the beat. Would you be singing it?”

“No,” they chuckle. “You would.”

Roman feels the tightness in his chest again, and he nods, the lump in his throat preventing him from speaking any further.

Logan, sensing the tension, quickly speaks up. “Roman, you said you had a song? Did you want to play that for us?”

“Um…” Roman swallows hard. “I, um…”

“Come now Roman, don’t you want to show me up?” Janus taunts. “Prove you’re the most important person here, just like you always need to do?”

“Hey, woah,” Virgil steps in. “Enough fighting. Roman, you don’t have to play the song if you don’t want to, but if you do, I’d be happy to hear it.”

“Simp,” Remus mumbles.

“Shut up,” Virgil shoots back. “Roman?”

“Uh, yeah, okay, I’ll play it,” Roman sighs. He grabs his guitar and sits, facing the other four. His hands tremble, though he shouldn’t be nervous, should he? He’s played to thousands of people, hundreds of crowds in the past years.

He shouldn’t be nervous.

But Janus sits there, smug as ever, almost as if they’re waiting for Roman to screw up. Logan looks at him expectantly, and though it surely isn’t intentional, he taps his foot in impatience.

Virgil smiles at Roman, the same soft, encouraging smile he always gave Roman right before they performed. Remus smiles at him too, one of the first genuine smiles Roman’s seen from him in a while.

A deep breath.

Roman begins strumming, pointedly not looking at the subject of his work.

“It’s called The Only Reason,” he says as an afterthought, just before he begins singing.

“Don’t talk, let me think it over, how we gonna fix this? How we gonna undo all the pain?”

He focuses solely on his guitar until the last chord, finally looking up to a mix of expressions.

Logan looks shocked, Remus and Virgil both have fond smiles on their faces, and Janus—

Janus looks just as unimpressed as Roman thought they would be.

“Am I supposed to pretend that wasn’t about me?” They drawl, rolling one of their drumsticks between their fingers. They don’t give Roman a chance to respond, saying, “Listen, Reyes, I know you think you can woo half the damn country with your pretty voice and sparkling eyes, but it won’t work on me again.”

“You think everything has to be about you?” Roman snaps. “You think I’m trying to, what, win you back? You think I think I have a chance?”

“Maybe we should cool down,” Virgil says.

“No, I am sick of being ridiculed! I am sick of having to defend myself for breathing the same air as them!”

“Maybe you should stop breathing my air, then,” Janus shrugs.

“You’re ridiculous!” Roman shouts. “I’ve apologized, over and over and over again! My one request was that we be civil and you can’t even do that!”

Janus slams their hands down as they stand, returning the same heat Roman gave to them. “My one request was a boyfriend who actually fucking loved me!”

“I did love you! What part of that can you not fucking understand?” Roman’s voice grows hoarse, tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks. He takes a deep breath. “I loved you, and I fucked it all up, and I regret it everyday.”

The tension is the room is palpable, so thick Roman could barely breathe.

“I… I think that’s enough for today,” Virgil says softly.

“Aw, really?” Roman pouts sarcastically, ignoring the drying tears on his cheeks. “Dang, I was hoping to learn the song Janus wrote about me.”

“Roman—”

“He’s right,” Janus shrugs. They begin packing up their things, slinging their backpack over one shoulder. “I did write it about him. At least I can admit that.”

“Same time next week?” Remus asks unhelpfully. A chorus of agreement has him clapping, blabbering about something Roman doesn’t care to listen to.

No, he watches as Janus starts to leave, but not before stopping to whisper something to Roman.

“Checkmate.”

#roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #past roceit #warped rose #part three: practice makes perfect

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intruality-overlord · 4 years

Text

Why Are We (Best) Friends?

Warnings: Excessive swearing, alcoholism, mentions of drugs, drug use, suggestive humor, implied sexual content (no smut), some gore descriptions. Generally, Remus stuff.

Taglist: @blogging-time @veraisnotfine @littlestr @jessibbb @ibroken-butterflyi @hi-its-tutty @idkanameatall

(For these first couple chapters I have tagged people I thought might be interested in reading this. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

The next chapters I will be posting every week on Thursday/Wednesday because this is a prewritten fic (look at me being responsible—)

Chapter Two: Fuck This

The Present.

“That fucker drives me fucking insane!” Patton’s shouting bounced off the walls. “Virgil keeps getting fucking mad at me and I don’t even know what I’m doing fucking wrong at this point, but he won’t fucking tell me what the fuck it is either!” He ranted. Remus nodded along, sat across from him. His legs were crossed with his pointy elbows resting on top, and his spine bent awkwardly so he could settle his head in his palm. Thoroughly entertained, Remus hummed every now and then in agreement like a sham therapist.

“And Roman! He... he... You know why he’s a bitch,” Patton lamented. A cackle shattered Remus’s short-lived, feigned seriousness.

“The last time we saw you was fucking Christmas,” Patton mocked. “Maybe because you didn’t fucking invite me, idiot. Of course Logan wouldn’t, though, all high and mighty smartass. And my puppet idea was a fucking good idea goddamnit. Bullshit. Bullshit!— ugh,” Patton sighed out his remaining traces of frustration. He crossed his arms over his chest and sunk into the green bean bag. Some of the styrofoam beads spilled out a small tear on the poor, battered, ever shrinking bean bag.

Grinning wildly, Remus said, “While that was a marvellous performance, I must say it could do with a little more variety in your profanity.” Patton gave an amused, breathy snort.

“Why are we friends, Remus? You’re such a bad influence on me,” Patton said teasingly. Remus rolled his eyes as Patton plucked another Pepsi can (which contents had most definitely not been poured down the drain and refilled with a concoction of cocktails) from his mini fridge. Remus let Patton hide his alcohol stockpile in his room since his dear friend was so paranoid of the other sides discovering it. “Encouraging me to curse, letting me have access to vodka…”

“Oh, shut up. You’ve become an alcoholic all on your own,” Remus said dismissively.

“...True,” Patton conceded. “You were always more the type for cookie mix,” Patton added as an afterthought. Remus doubled over into a laughing fit. Cookie mix most certainly had nothing to do with cocaine. He couldn’t help but laugh at the smug knowing look Patton sent him as him floundered.

“You— you can’t— I’ve been clean for a few months now!” Remus said defiantly, sinking further into his beanbag with his arms crossed. (Quickly, Remus double checked, pulling his hair over his eyes only to find clear brown, no white in sight. Phew.) Patton hummed sceptically. “But you did have shrooms recently,” he teased.

Remus huffed. “No I haven’t— …Wait—” Remus paused, “Have I?”

“I don’t know,” Patton smiled, “Have you?” Remus let his eyes wander the room. “I can’t remember…”

Patton rolled his eyes fondly.

“You know as long as you’re not over doing it, and you’re being as safe as possible, it’s fine with me. I don’t have any right to judge,” Patton said reassuringly. Yes, Patton knew it was inherently wrong to not at least try and steer his friend onto a less self-destructive path. Remus, to him, was like a hairless Chinese Crested puppy. Very weirdly adorable in the nasty kind of way. (That sounds bad, but he truly means it in the best way possible. What he lacked in hair as a metaphorical dog, he made up for in personality and a good heart muddle somewhere in there). Which meant he struggled to ever say no to him.

Patton also knew that the last thing he wanted to be was a hypocrite. Maybe once he got himself on the right track, then he’d intervene more.

“Seriously, how did we ever become friends?” Patton said genuinely. “I still thought babies were delivered by stalks when we first became friends.”

“I dunno… we just did,” was all Remus could come up with. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. When he couldn’t quite get comfy, he resorted to sitting upside down on the couch instead. Much better.

Silence settled over the two for a minute. Patton stared into space, deep in thought. Taking sips of his drink, he felt the alcohol lethargically burning down his throat. Remus resorted to picking at his nails again in the stillness, wondering if it’s possible to have a tattoo underneath your nails.

“I don’t regret it,” Patton said thoughtfully. Remus cocked his head to the side, neck cracking when his body slipped down the sofa a bit. “Becoming friends with you,” Patton clarified. “You’re the best friend I could ask for, really. You don’t baby and shelter me like the others. You let me just… be,” Patton said sincerely. “Which always seems too much to ask of the others,” Patton tacted on bitterly. He took a generous swig as if to emphasize his point. Remus scoffed, the tiny movement making him slide the rest of the way down onto the carpet. “Aww I’m flattered, honey.” His tone was excessively teasing, yet his expression was anything but.

Midst lazily reaching for another can, Remus swatted Patton’s hands away. “I think that’s enough. You’re already starting to monologue. If you keep going you’ll have a hangover so bad, it’ll feel like you actually hanged yourself,” Remus tutted. While Patton was no light weight (his words hadn’t even begun to slur yet), from the way Patton was chugging it down, Remus knew his body just hadn’t caught up yet.

Meekly lolling his head back to face skywards, Patton whined but didn’t protest. Sinking lower into the cushy bean bag, his eyes traced imagery patterns on the ceiling.

God, Remus knew that look.

“I just don’t know anymore, ReRe,” Patton said defeatedly, “Every time I think I’m over it, they keep giving me false hope. Everything I say and feel is ignored, and whenever I’m right, they always think it’s a stupid flook. They never listen. I don’t think they ever will at this rate. I don’t even know if I want to be friends with them anymore or I’m just really fucking lonely and my brain’s just hard wired to associate, I don’t know, being happy? With them?” His eyes were vacant, dull. “Why can’t it be like when we were little?”

While the whole point of their little get together was for Patton to vent with free will to cuss as needed, this more sappy, philosophical stuff… Remus didn’t like. You can’t blame him for not liking to see his best friend this miserable. Still, he knew it was best to let Patton keep going.

“Even if they did actually care about me, I’m sure they’d stop the moment they knew we’re like… a thing. Logan would think I’m crazy— Virgil and Roman too… I know what they’d think of us and it’s so— so—” Patton made a nondescript noise of frustration. “They’d say you corrupted me or some shit. I… I’m not embarrassed of you. I should stop acting like I am. I hate this stupid dumb angel reputation I have anyway. I’m just… I have to admit the only real reason I haven’t really said anything at this point is it’s kinda funny seeing their reactions whenever I accidentally say something that sounds wrong.”

Remus chuckled. “I don’t know how they haven’t caught on yet, honestly. Your half of our brain cell is just as sick as mine. They must be in denial.”

“Yeah…”

…

“I should be going to bed,” Patton tried to stand up. As soon as he stood however, his knees buckled. Remus dashed to his side and caught him. “You goof…” Remus positioned him upright. Steadying hands on his hips, Patton tried to stand up straight. A task easier said that done when you’re a gay panic. Inevitably, Patton limply collapsed on top of Remus.

“I don’t think I can make it to my room…” Patton’s cheeks flushed and the red ran down his neck.

“You wet noodle.”

“You… blue cheese lover.”

(“Is that supposed to be an insult?”)

(“Who the fuck likes blue cheese?”)

Arm slung over his shoulder, Remus hauled Patton into the hallway and onwards. He would have carried Patton if he hadn’t been so surprisingly stubborn. All well, anything to make him happy. They returned to their earlier, lighter bantering. The alcohol started to really catch up with Patton, his quips came slower. No less witty, though (by their standards).

Everything would’ve gone like normal if it wasn’t for a certain nerd who had decided on a coffee before bed. Most counterproductive. As soon as Logan had started out his room, he spotted them. His eyes settled into a potent, yet subtle glare. Like a droplet of poison spilt on an unassuming biscuit.

“What the…”

“Logyyy!” Patton perked up at the sound of his voice, lifting himself from Remus’s side that he’d been slumped on. The sudden movement made him lose balance. Scrambling to catch himself, Remus found himself with two arms wrapped around his shoulders now.

“Is… is he— are you drunk?” Logan sputtered. Disbelief shaped his words like they felt alien on his tongue. “I’m not thaaaat drunk!” Patton retaliated. Logan ignored him, cold, tired eyes set on Remus. “What did you do to him?” Logan said as aggressively as a guinea pig could manage. Confusion still mostly coloured his stare. “Me an’ Re er havin’ bestie time, duh!” Patton answered. He sounded giddy, but his voice had a touch of satire only drunken Patton could manage. Even in his drunken state, Patton subconsciously was trying to maintain his image.

Remus frowned. This learnt behaviour was ingrained into Patton.

“He shouldn’t be around someone like you in such a vulnerable state,” Logan said, already trying to pry Patton from his arms. “No—” Remus began, looping his arms securely on Patton's waist, “I’ll take care of him.”

“Noooo,” Patton recoiled, trying to melt into Remus’s side. “It's bestiee tiiiimme wi’ Emu.” Patton's arms slid up Remus’s shoulders around his neck as he squirmed. “You’re drunk, Patton,” Logan dismissed.

Seething, Remus shoved Logan off. “You heard him,” he said, sternly. “Back off before I carve out your tongue, blend it, and force feed it to you,” he threatened. Arms crossed, Logan huffed like an exhausted parent. “You’re all bark, no bite,” he dismissed.

“Oh honey, you ha’ no idea how mu’ he bi’es.”

Schooling his face into glares and scrunched eyebrows, Remus sighed out the giggles brewing in his lungs. Nonetheless, Patton was proud of the brief smug smile he provoked. Pretending he didn’t hear that, Logan insisted, “You’re a bad influence on someone like Patton. People like you shouldn’t be around him, especially when he’s inebriated.”

“Better under the supervision of a friend. He’d drink himself to death otherwise.”

“Yes, but preferably, that should be Virgil or Roman or I, most certainly not you.”

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t feel comfortable enough around anyone else, tin can.”

“Re,” Patton interrupted, whining, “I’m bored le’s gooo.” He tugged on him.

“—He’s drunk he doesn’t know what he’s saying— you know what— Okay, Patton, you choose. Me,” Logan pointed to himself, “or him?” He said overly pronouncing his words.

…

“…‘M drunk not a fuckin’ kid,” was Patton’s response. “We go now,” and he was stumbling down the hallway dragging Remus with him.

Both missed the shell shocked expression on Logan, not daring to believe his ears. Patton cursing? An intoxicated Patton, no less? No. Nope. Absolutely not. He needed coffee desperately.

When they finally got to Patton’s room, Remus carefully directed him, even lowering him onto his bed. Patton had the tendency to unceremoniously flop face first onto his bed like a starfish.

“I swear I’m gonna strangle Logan,” Remus muttered as he made sure Patton was comfortable, tucking in his blankets.

“I don’ think he into bdsm,” Patton said as an offhanded thought.

“You never know. He could be partial to a spider gag…”

“You really just want to try that thing out don’t you? I swear to god— oof.” Remus snatched his pillow from beneath his head to fluff it. Pretending to not pretend he was punching a sheep’s limp corpse, he fluffed it extremely thoroughly.

“You gotsa stop relying on me to keep you in check, ya know,” Patton pouted, arms crossed. “Your— you’re fuckin’ innsaaane!”

“I only ask you sometimes…” Remus said (the worst part about that sentence was that it was utterly true).

Blank stare piercing Remus, Patton paused a moment for his brain to function before deadpanning, “I’d like to talk to you about Jesus Christ—”

Remus shoved Patton’s pillow back, and he promptly forgot everything in favour of burrowing down into his bed. Touch light as moonlight, Remus herded Patton’s wild locks from his forehead. “What am I gonna do with you…”

“You’re na’ gon change my mind… kinky b-hole,” Patton mumbled, caught between the conscious world and sleep. Remus’s eyes smiled. Crouching down, he hovered over Patton. Hovered over his forehead, wondering. Pondering, debating, convincing himself. His breath stirred Patton’s brown locks. They scattered like a spooked flock. Running. Patton shivered.

He shouldn’t. Backing away, Remus was ready to switch the lights off and evacuate, yet was stopped.

“Reeemuuuuuss,” Patton called. Suddenly, he was wide awake again.

Huh?— his breath hitched. His hand caught on the doorway.

“Staaaaayyy! Preddy please?” He made grabby hands.

But— they don’t—

Did he deserve…? Right now? His nails dug into the doorframe.

…

“Okay! I’m coming, I’m coming,” Remus assured, relenting. Lazy giggles from Patton rewarded him. Flicking off the light, Remus strode back over. Laying together in silence, Remus picked the paint and splinters out from underneath his nails and waited. When Patton didn’t budge, Remus took his arms and used them like a seat belt. Simultaneously, Patton glued himself to his back like a limpet. A warm wall of heat.

“Remouse?” He mumbled into his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“You’re really sweet. like… like tomato sauce.”

…

Welp okay then.

Next Chapter:

#WAW(B)F?#sander sides #thomas sanders #ts sander sides #patton sanders #ts patton #remus sanders #ts remus #intruality #moduke #logan sanders #ts logan #remus x patton #patton x remus

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baka-monarch · 4 years

Text

Vergilius

Part 1

TRIGGER WARNINGS: MENTION OF ABUSE, MENTION OF TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, MENTION OF PTSD, MENTION OF BAD PAST EVENTS

Paranoia.

The most powerful side to exist. Paranoia was in charge of all of Thomas' fears, his anxieties, his views, and most importantly, his dark thoughts. Paranoia lead the Dark Sides strictly and efficiently, making sure that they did everything according to plan, and that the Light Sides could never interfere. Paranoia was not to be questioned, lest someone be hurt, and no one wanted to be hurt by Paranoia… not again.

Everyone feared Paranoia, even Remus was scared of the side. No one was even allowed to be near the infamous side.

Well, almost no one.

Roman was the only side that Paranoia kept close. Roman was at Paranoia's beck and call, not having a choice otherwise. Before he and Remus split Paranoia and King had been in a relationship, King having been the only side as powerful as Paranoia. However, once King-Creativity, split neither Roman or Remus were as powerful as they'd once been, and Paranoia had to make a choice.

The twins had wanted to be polyamorous…

But Paranoia had other plans…

"Oh, Princey~" The all too familiar voice purred through Roman's head. Roman glared down at the collar destined tightly around his neck, the charm on it glowing a bright orange. It was almost cliche with how he felt like a prisoner when with Vergilius. He shivered at the name. Paranoia's name. He was the only one who knew it, the only reason for him knowing it being, "A pet has to know their master's name." Roman shivered at his words. Roman would give anything to be rid of Vergilius, he would even reconnect with his brother if he had to, but he couldn't worry about that right now… especially since it would never happen, and he would be selected to Vergilius to be punished if he didn't go to the Dark Side's room soon.

Roman hurried to Vergilius' dark castle that had once been Remus'. The fake guards out front recognized him emidiatly, the pity on their faces was unmistakable. Roman paid them no mind, too focused on getting to Vergilius' room before it was too late. As soon as he made it to the door he paused to straighten (ha) his suit and crown, the crown being a "gift" from Vergilius. Once he finished he opened the door and bowed.

" You called, Majesty." The name felt bitter in Roman's mouth. He hated this-this torture that was supposed to be love. He couldn't even tell anyone about it, Vergilius, being Paranoia, gave him the power of silence. He was able to constrict people's vocal cords, warp their minds, make them fear speaking.

"Yes, my little prince. I was hoping to have a break day today, have some fun with my favorite little side." The words left Paranoia's mouth so easily, as if he had just breathed, and not threatening Roman's very mental health like he did. Every. Fucking. Time.

"O-of course, Ma-Majesty…" Roman stuttered out, gulping down his fear. He didn't have time for that, for bad emotions. He had to focus on being happy. On making Vergilius happy. For everyone else. "What… What did you have in mind?" Roman plastered on a smile, all too familiar with this facade.

"You remember Tuesdays, don't you?" Vergilius smirked, loving the fear he could feel from within his love, but knowing that Roman must love him, why else would the little prince pretend to be happy if not for his sake? Oh, how he loved Roman and wanted nothing more than to just keep him here inside of himself… but he couldn't keep him, unfortunately.

"Th-the tacos?" To anyone else, it would have been an innocent question, but to Roman, he knew what this meant. Vergilius nodded, confirming his fears. "Ah, y-yes." Roman hated those days, where Paranoia would rip pieces off of Roman and eat them in tacos and other foods… it was originally a nightmare made by Remus but it had inspired Vergilius, making Roman suffer at the expense of this sadist's joy.

Vergilius chuckled darkly. "Oh Princey, so guess you really are the fairest of the land you've gone pale!" At Paranoia's words, Roman forced a giggle of his own, hating the sound.

"I guess I must be Snow White right now." Roman cringed at his attempt at a pun, but Vergilius had requested for him to make more the last time he was called upon, so he had no choice. Paranoia laughed darkly, loving the terrible joke. Once he had calmed down, he smiled longingly at Roman's body, specifically at the place where an unmutilated organ should have been in Roman's pants.

"Shall we begin, Princey~"

***

That was barely even a week ago. Roman had been called to the palace almost an hour ago, but not by Vergilius, by one of the guards. It had been years since Vergilius didn't call Roman himself, it was strange, but Roman wasn't about to let his guard down. The guard who had gotten him had brought a carriage and it was currently pulling up to the castle where Remus and Deceit were standing outside. Roman was the only Light Side allowed here, so it made sense, what didn't make sense was the Orange color slowly being drained from the landscape as it returned to its original green color.

"What's happening?" Roman approached the two immediately.

"I don't know, he's your boyfriend Mr. Masocist!" Remus snapped.

"We were hoping you would know…" Deceit muttered, having been used to Vergilius keeping his mouth shut unless Deceit was needed. Roman gave Dee a worried look, one that read "you okay?" to which Dee only meekly nodded to.

"I'm going to go check. You two stay here." He grasped the door handle but before he entered he turned back to them to say one last thing as an afterthought. "And stay safe."

Roman jerked the door open only to find an empty castle. It was early quite, and Roman almost cried in joy, thinking that he was gone. Paranoia was gone! Alas, as soon as he was going to call out to his friends a loud sob could be heard from inside.

Roman was crushed.

His one moment of pure joy, demolished by a simple sound.

Roman unwillingly ventured into the palace and followed the cries. The sounds of sadness eventually lead him to Vergilius' bedroom. Of course, it was him… who else would it be?

"Majesty, is everything alrigh-" Roman cut himself off as he opened the door. That wasn't Paranoia. "Who are you? What did you do to Paranoia?"

"I-I don't kn-know!" They stuttered out. Once Roman saw their face he recognized them as Vergilius, but they looked nothing like his master. They looked scared, and had tears pouring out of their eyes, smearing their… eyeshadow? After a beat, they finally answered the second question.

"Who's Paranoia?"

#sander sides #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #dark sides #evil virgil #vergilius sanders #paranoia sanders #orange side #tw roman angst #tw virgil angst #tw sander sides angst #tw ptsd #tw toxic relationship #tw character abuse

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fae-redux · 3 years

Text

rules of the game: ch. 7 - melt your headaches, call it home

Story Summary:

The Evergreen and Imagi were never quite in peacetime. Roman’s just trying to figure out how to survive and succeed his mother. Logan wants to live long enough to use his magic however he wants. Patton is coasting while repressing everything, still trying to figure out what feelings are.

Virgil doesn’t want to change the world.

Luckily, it isn’t up to him.

first | ao3 | prev

Chapter Summary: Learning the learning process.

Word count: 2484

Pairings: future lamp, platonic anxceit

~|~

“Now remember, Val isn’t still settling so she will be there if you go wandering off. If you don’t stick with me, who knows what could happen?”

Dee’s tone is light as he leads him further into the building, but Virgil can’t help the shudder that racks his spine as he follows him. It’s not like Dee has much to worry about, being a winter fae in a winter court. Virgil has done his research and being a spring isn’t likely to do him any favors here.

Building is a term he would use lightly, room even less so, the three walls towering over their heads, separating the space from the rest of the woods. The floor of the structure is marbled in an ice-like design that casts a light glow. Tall windows end somewhere in the sky, their edges pointing in tips, glinting in the light. The entrance is a gradual shift between the fields and the marble, like one second he could be walking in grass and the next he could skate along the floors.

At the end of the room, there is a singular throne. The cool marble travels upward to create the back, branches of wood curling to the arms and sides. Just looking at it, Virgil can feel the skin of his fingers itch to reach out, to touch.

Behind the throne, a spiral staircase leads into the sky, disappearing as the walls get cloudier. He stares upwards to try and see where it leads, but there’s nothing above it. Dee shoves an elbow in his side before he can get a better look.

“Unless you want to see Val angry, I wouldn’t suggest you take another step forward,” Dee tugs him back to his side. “I don’t understand that you’ve never been to a fae court before, but you definitely have been in a court before if your past isn't to be believed.”

With only a few feet between where he stands and the throne, Virgil can barely comprehend how he let his curiosity get the best of him. He deliberately takes a few steps back and locks his gaze to the floor. If Adelaide had seen him do something so audacious as to approach her throne while she wasn’t in the room, she would’ve done something worse than take his head off.

The fae queen didn’t seem to be that kind of ruler, but Dee is right. There’s no telling what she would do to him if she were to find out he was within a five feet radius of her throne. Sticking with Dee suddenly feels a lot easier with the context of Adelaide’s court thudding around his skull.

So, taking the gloved hand that tugged him back in his own and clearing his throat, he says, “I would feel better if I could just hang on to you for now, so I don’t,” He gestures around to the throne, “You know.” Awkwardly, he ducks his head down again so he doesn’t have to see Dee judging him.

Instead, Dee softens and offers him his arm, “This won’t be more comfortable. I can’t steer you in the right direction.” Smiling, Dee pulls him through an arch in the wall a little further away, he continues, “We aren’t almost where we need to go anyways.”

Virgil takes a deep breath, fits himself further into Dee’s side, and lets himself be led.

~|~

Dot hasn’t had a coffee all morning. In fact, she hasn’t had a coffee in five days because Larry refuses to get her one from the human town on the outskirts because he hasn’t found the perfect shop yet since their regular one closed.

To conclude, Dot is very, very tired.

She is so tired that the boy who is sticking to the side of her very good friend Dee gets her full attention as soon as he walks in the room. The poor thing is shifting his gaze awkwardly back and forth, skittish, clearly here under some sort of duress.

“Oh no, nope, no, I’m not having it, where did you find this kid, Dee? Did you kidnap him?” She nudges herself in between them, using her body to pull him away and set the small fae next to her desk, turning back to shoot a glare at Dee before she turns to him, “Did he kidnap you? Are you okay?”

When the kid just blinks at her, stunned from the fact that she had just moved him like he weighed as much as a feather, she rounds on Dee, who immediately puts both his hands up in surrender, his cane hanging off his thumb. “Can you define kidnap?” He smiles innocently at her enraged noise and moves his hands to block her strikes as she takes off her glove just to whack him with it.

“I’ve no time for your kidding, Lapointe!” She snaps as he backs up giggling.

“Uhh, Lapointe?” The tiny fae speaks for the first time since the pair entered the room. As what seems to be an afterthought, he adds, “And he didn’t kidnap me so much as make sure I couldn’t go back to where I was before.”

“On purpose,” Dee adds, like it would make his story any nicer. He dances out of the way as she reaches for him again.

“Of course you did,” Dot sighs and rubs at her temples. This would be so much easier to figure out with a single drop of coffee in her system. “So you’re okay with him?” Tiny fae nods. “Then what are you here for, Dee?”

“He doesn’t have plant ancestry and there’s nobody to teach him. I didn’t cover the magic I knew, but I do know the first thing about plant magic, so I wasn’t hoping you would know what to do.”

Dot considers the situation for a moment. The fae standing next to her desk had to be at least a teenager, fifteen years old easily. If Dee had taught him illusion magic and the fae had been able to replicate that magic, there would be no way he had plant magic.

Fae don’t really mix magic. In children born to two different magical backgrounds, they would receive an affinity for one or the other, not both. Even with that in mind, by Val’s decree, it would be impossible for a fae this old to never have been taught to use their magic until now. The children of this kingdom started early. Really early. Like, five years old, early.

“How old are you?” She settles on asking first because this onslaught of magical theory is probably not what he needs at the moment. “And what should I call you?”

“Vee, and I’m seventeen,” Vee fills in, shifting uncomfortably behind the table, eyeing Dee and the exit behind him.

Once more, she rounds on Dee. “Does Val know about him?” There’s no way someone withholding training from a fae for this long wouldn’t be punished. Forgetting how dangerous it was to keep a fae’s magic wild, it was abuse. By the looks of him, his ears hadn’t even pointed yet, so he mustn’t’ve had much time exposed to the Evergreen’s magic. Val would be furious enough to organize a hunt.

“She didn’t know since he came to live with me,” So he probably took care of the party in question, Vee’s answer about the kidnapping theory makes more sense now. She relaxes. Dee hesitates, “I wouldn’t like to train him as an apprentice if you agree to help him.”

“For your potions?” She pointedly looks at him over her glasses. He nods and taps his cane down. “Okay. So. Plant magic.” The lesson plans she has are for the younger fae in the kingdom, but she can teach an older kid. What’s a little more work anyways?

She’s already making a list of the materials she would need for an older fae. There are fae better suited for teaching older kids, but the kids they teach are usually versed in the magic they specialize in. There are so many people she would love to talk to about this, but with dual magics, it should probably stay private. It makes its way into her muttering and into her hands as she reaches for a notebook and pens.

Vee doesn’t look ready to bolt anymore, a little more relaxed now that she’s absorbed in her work. If he had any training earlier, there would be things to avoid. Especially from someone who purposefully kept him from the education he needed. Dot needs to know so much more about him to get the plans right.

“I’ll need to see Vee every day for the next week so I can plan properly to curate the lessons to his learning style,” Gathering her focus to talk to the two of them, she lets Vee get out from around her desk to get back to Dee. “Otherwise, you’re free to go. Tomorrow after lunch?”

At Dee’s nod, she gets back to work. Dual magic is wild. There isn’t a single fae in the forest with it. To start training a fae so much older would be difficult, but if she does this right, he will have both magics in full capacity without losing either affinity. Let no one say Dot isn’t ever up for a challenge.

~|~

Dee can hear the sound of a clock ticking time away in the back of his skull the longer Vee stays with Dot.

He’s been slowly but surely developing more fae traits, the tips of his ears curving up more, his hair turning a more violet color, and his two incisors elongating. It’s startling to see how much exposure to the Evergreen has affected him.

Dot has way too many questions, ones she only asks when Vee is out of earshot. If she didn’t care about Vee’s well-being so much, it would be annoying. She’s managed to figure out how to get him to stop flinching every time they come near him and he takes to her like a baby duck imprints on the first thing it sees. He lets her go with the assumption that Vee had been with some dastardly fae that he had stumbled upon by chance.

If people were to find out about where Vee really was from, riots would start for a bargaining chip on Adelaide, and if he knew Vee, and he did, the kid would offer in a minute. The last thing Vee needs is any more stress on his head.

As it stands, the magic lessons are also kept under tight wraps. There is no precedence for a fae with two types of magic. In fact, he’s gone through every ancestry book he has, and there hasn’t even been a case where a fae made a deal into two types of affinities. A normal fae couldn’t make deals into it as far as history dictates.

With his magic registers filling up the more he uses his magic, Vee is getting confident. The added benefit of going to court so often, he’s finding it easier to traverse the Evergreen without Dee. The clock gets louder every time he asks to go exploring on his own.

The cord connecting him to Vee gets heavier, too. The deal made Vee immortal, or it was supposed to replicate Dee’s own immortality, and as far as he’d seen, the only thing it had done was make Vee more fae. Guilt sits in him like a stone, heavy and unmoving.

His reasoning when he had found him was to keep him alive, but he hadn’t really known why at the time. He hadn’t been lying when he said Nellie had been a part of it, along with the mercenaries from Adelaide, but there had been something about him, fate or something equally nonsensical, that made Dee hesitate to go back inside. The naiads would have finished healing him, but Dee needed something from him.

He just knows he needed that something, whether it be company or maybe he saw potential or worse kindness, and that’s all. The cord is the brightest one, a beautiful, royal shade of purple, and it's the strongest of them as well. He doesn’t tell Vee about the feeling.

It doesn’t help that he looks so much like Linus.

Or that he talks so much like Thomas.

The work of true love’s kiss had maybe had a little to do with how much he reminded him of how things used to be.

Regardless, certain Vee’s going to leave as soon as Dot gets comfortable enough to trust him to use his own magic safely, Dee uses the time he has with Vee to teach him the basics of potion-making and how to recognize plants for the craft.

Not surprising with the groundwork that Dot has been laying, he picks it up like a duck to water. Even less surprising, the first thing he manages to summon successfully is catmint, smiling smugly from the floor as the cats surround him as Dee blocks the doorway so more cats don’t figure out what he has (a useless endeavor). The cats stay in the house for days.

Even the snakes have picked up on Dee’s perpetual insecurity of Vee’s leave. They hiss at his feet whenever he goes outside to drop Vee at Dot’s, or even when he supervises Vee’s interactions with the other animals of the forest. He can feel their judgement coming from where they gather in the library.

The inevitability comes after six months of daily training. There’s a clearing a half-hour’s ride away from Dee’s place that Vee has taken a fondness too, as well as a chicken who claims to own the place. It stands to reason he will take the cats with him.

Dee waves him off, telling him of course he can’t stay as long as he pleases and to never come visit, and Vee grins back at him saying he’d be over so much he would get sick of him, dad.

He putters around like he didn’t hear the title, but internally he registers it with a growing fondness for Vee and all the things that come with him. He considers all the names that belong to him, names that are as much a part of him as his hands, names he can’t have, all the names he gave up and the ones taken away from him, and to the end of that long list, tacks on father.

If Vee said it in jest or not, it doesn’t matter. Vee has added this name to his life.

Dee is fairly certain he will miss him dearly when he chooses to leave.

#sanders sides fanfiction #ts virgil #ts janus #virgil sanders #janus sanders #dot is in this chapter!!!#and shes a great teacher :)#anywho its up today which is a very big accomplishment because i have been in work mode for far too long #hope you enjoy this little bit of dad!dee #and the more LORE #i want to add something to the relationships but it would spoil it so i wont #ive hinted in this chapter tho #rubs hands together menacingly #rules of the game au #rotg au #awen writes #i think ive covered everything so like #enjoy

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