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#sanders sides fanfic
edupunkn00b · 16 hours
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Fanfic Reblog Party 🥳
In all seriousness (and complaints about our Beloved Hellsite’s ™️ busted excuse for search aside), I’m not seeing a lot of stories on my dash. Like none.
Wonderful writers, please reblog your stories and tag me. Old stories, new stories, links to AO3 or big fancy Tumblr posts, reblog and tag me and I’ll reblog. And then more people can reblog those and…
Let’s get this party started!
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prodigal-explorer · 6 months
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sanders sides controversial opinions poll!
hi, guys! i've been in the sanders sides fandom for a few years now, and i've been really curious about where the majority of fans stand in terms of the most hot topics in the fandom right now. i made a nice little google form, and i'd love it if you guys filled it out with your opinions, anonymously, of course! there are no wrong answers, it's just opinions, and i want to know the real information, so don't worry about getting flamed or hated on because that's not going to happen!
also please reblog or send to your fander friends! i want this to reach as many interested people as possible!!
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lovelylogans · 7 months
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the parent trap
the masterpost
“So,” Remus says slowly. “If your Dad is my Dad…”
“...and your Pa is my Papa…”
Remus stares at the seam of the wedding photo, made whole again after more than a decade. His Pa, Patton, familiar with his cowboy-handsome, weather-beaten face and his dimpled grin and his big, calloused hand resting over his new husband’s, even if Remus has never seen him look this smitten ever. 
“And we’re both born on October 11… then, Roman. You and I are… like… brothers.”
And his Dad—Janus—smiling coyly, handsome in the way of magazine models, so completely a stranger to Remus with just this scrap of a photograph to serve as any way to know him, really know him. The way Roman knows him. The way Remus has been dying to know him all his life.
“Remus,” Roman breathes out, disbelieving. “We aren’t just brothers. We’re twins.”
Remus wonders, in a daze, if seeing the opposite life he could have had is as strange for Roman as it is for him… if they’d just been switched at birth, it’s the life Remus could have had, knowing his Dad instead of his Pa, but then…
But then it clicks.
“Roman,” he says, turning to grin at his brother—his brother! “I have a completely perfect, totally awesome idea!”
or: it's a parent trap AU for @tss-storytime with fanart by @tastic-in-its-finest!
warnings: pranks and practical jokes, smoking, drinking, brief mentions of underage drinking (in the context of a child trying a sip of wine), sibling rivalry and bonding, please let me know if i've missed any!
pairings: janus/patton, logan/virgil, brief patton/male oc
word count: 80k
notes: a few notes before we begin: first, thanks so much to morgan for their fanart for this fic!!! it's so cute, please like and reblog and do all that fun stuff!!! second, thanks to the folks over at the big bang for organizing this whole event—i know firsthand how complicated that can get, and you are so appreciated!!! this is technically a '90s au, but a '90s au in terms of the fashion and lack of social media/cell phones, not any of the homophobia. i hope you all enjoy!!!!
chapter one: prologue Across the world from each other, two very different families help two very similar boys pack their bags.
chapter two: welcome to camp walden! Welcome to what we like to think of as the most beautiful spot on God's green earth—Camp Walden.
chapter three: en garde The boys come to blows. (With practice épées, but in their minds, it’s equally as serious.)
chapter four: riposte The boys come to blows. (With words and stitching.)
chapter five: black card The boys come to blows. (With a temporary reversal of gravity, oodles of chocolate sauce, and finally, some semblance of adult interference.)
chapter six: isolation station The boys spend a great deal of their time considering coming to blows. Until suddenly, they don’t want to fight at all anymore.
chapter seven: operation augustus The realization of having an identical twin does quite a bit to spur some out-of-the-box levels of creativity.
chapter eight: let's get down to business! The boys begin to plot. Camp Walden trembles in fear.
chapter nine: to defeat… the family civil divisions of napa and london respectively! The boys plot. The world all over ought to be trembling in fear.
chapter ten: domine dirige nos Remus spends a great deal of time weighing the most British way to say hello. He’s going to have to repress throwing in a what’s all this then, guv’nor? the entire time.
chapter eleven: eureka! Roman spends a great deal of time weighing the most American way to say hello. He thinks he probably shouldn’t come right out of the gate with howdy, y’all!
chapter twelve: a wench in the works This absolutely was not in their multitude of blueprints!
chapter thirteen: riding is magic and friendship is power and love is everything to everyone Roman gets to meet his pony. He should, by all rights, be much more excited about it, but someone had to go and ruin it for him.
chapter fourteen: in which virgil attempts to hold a poker face (and fails miserably) Virgil curses being so observant.
chapter fifteen: all of my change spent on you Remus has a particularly fun run-in. Well. Fun for him.
chapter sixteen: so your sons have swapped places and are in foreign countries This particular subject was not covered in the parenting books.
chapter seventeen: hopped off the plane at lax with a dream of civil reconciliation with my ex-husband Remus plots. Grandfather aids and abets. Janus panics. Logan suffers them all.
chapter eighteen: small world and getting smaller Janus is officially the father of the two most troublesome twins in the galaxy.
chapter nineteen: you got me tripping, stumbling! sinking, fumbling! Patton makes a splash.
chapter twenty: the queen elizabeth the second the second The twins attempt to revive the past. The parents wish to change it.
chapter twenty-one: i said a boom chicka boom! Logan’s swept off his feet. As is Maddox, in an entirely different way.
chapter twenty-two: i said a boom GO TO YOUR ROOM The twins’ plots bear oh-so-satisfying fruit.
chapter twenty-three: where dreams have no end A hello, a goodbye.
chapter twenty-four: the concorde(ance) A goodbye, a hello.
chapter twenty-five: epilogue Two very similar boys help their two very different families assimilate into one.
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goldnskyart · 7 months
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Almost forgot to post this here oops- but here’s the final drawing for this au (at least for now) god I love them so much
This is the first time I’ve done a full background in years so I’m very proud lol hope y’all like it too
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I’m also writing a fic for this au here is a link to that post and here it is on ao3 if you wanna read it!
Some other versions below just cause I think they’re nice :3
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Here you can even properly see the background I worked so hard on- and a closeup on the kiss ofc😌
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delimeful · 7 months
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helpless (7)
warnings: restraints, blood and injury, unethical treatment, spider mention/drider, misunderstandings, cannibalism mentions, kidnapping, lmk if i missed any
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Janus managed to bite three different people before they finally pinned him in one place long enough to force the makeshift muzzle over his head.
He didn’t regret it, persay, but the little victory would have been far more gratifying if he hadn’t gotten his head slammed into a wall hard enough to make him see stars right afterwards.
If it weren’t for the cobbled-together gag, he would have started swearing. It was already extremely unlikely that he’d make it out of this particular clusterfuck unscathed, and seeing double certainly wasn’t going to improve his odds.
At least he’d ruined a few lives on his way out, he reflected as they hauled him up and out the door of the decrepit barn at the edge of town. His curse wasn’t useful for much, but he’d made the most of his venom and its ‘truth-telling’ properties no matter where he went.
The ones he’d bitten would be spilling their guts for the better part of a day, and he was more than sure that they’d be dropping some unpleasant secrets. If he was lucky, they’d be forced to regurgitate his little vigilante scheme to someone in town who’d see it for the idiocy it was.
Well, no. If he was actually lucky, he’d miraculously wiggle his way out of a painful and messy death. Getting his tormentors punished was more of a pleasant afterthought in the luck department.
He was unimaginably pissed that of all the plots against him, this was the one he hadn’t seen coming.
Sure, in retrospect, the dragon that used to demand tribute from the town had clearly had a bigger impact on the older populace than he’d first assumed. He’d been wary about settling there for a while, what with the scales and the eye and the other dragon-adjacent traits, but nobody had given him more than the usual level of confusion and distaste, and some people had been outright friendly.
How was he supposed to know that opinion would suddenly shift because something as generally positive as a rescued child?
He hadn’t even been involved with the whole situation!
Sure, he’d felt the overwhelming dread in the air when the child of one of the town’s governing members had disappeared. He’d breathed in a sigh of relief the same as everyone else when she’d been miraculously returned barely a day later. He’d even heard a fair number of the rumors recounting the stories she’d told about the creature in the woods that had helped her.
Strange, and definitely a reason to keep an eye on those woods, but the ordeal had nothing to do with him, and he’d thought it was over.
Except, according to his oh-so-gracious captors, that wasn’t the end of it. No supernatural presence came without strings attached, and with the rescue of one that could (at a stretch) be called an heir, they were convinced that the town would be called on to repay the debt.
So they’d decided that rather than wait for a monster to come claim a resident and steal them away in a week or two, they would choose the payment themselves. At that point, it was only a matter of picking someone they could afford to lose. Unsurprisingly, they settled on the cursed foreigner with the bad attitude.
Janus had had his humanity doubted his entire life, and now he���d been forced into the role of human sacrifice. He imagined he would have appreciated the irony more if it weren’t at his own expense.
His only balm was the fact that this clearly wasn’t a unanimous decision, going by the cloak-and-dagger way he’d been abducted and dragged out of town. He liked a fair few of his neighbors at this point, and he would have hated to find out that in addition to his imminent demise, he was also a horrible judge of character.
His attention snapped back to the unfortunate situation at hand as his captors slowed to a stop. They had reached a small, man-made clearing a little ways into the woods, with a tall, worn post driven deep into the earth. The wood was stained and the ground indented in strange places, as though the dragon and a bloody sacrifice had departed only hours ago, instead of years.
A shudder ran through the idiot on his left, clearly remembering something about the horrors that had taken place here. As someone who was about to become a horror taking place here, Janus found himself utterly unable to dredge up any sympathy for him.
In fact, he abruptly decided that the hypocrisy had earned his captor a knee to the groin, in the name of him getting the hell out of here.
The person on his other side must’ve been the keener sort, because their reflexes were much sharper.
One very short escape attempt later, Janus was firmly tied to the post, now with a spattering of heavy bruising all along his ribs in addition to his probable concussion.
To add insult to injury– or rather, injury to injury, they’d bid him farewell with a gash sliced into the front of his lower leg, relatively shallow but easily deep enough for blood to start seeping into his pants.
Fantastic. More obstacles to him getting out of this, exactly what he needed.
He tried not to dwell on his own helplessness, but it was everywhere he looked. He’d been stripped of his work belt and all the tools on it. He couldn’t make them doubt themselves with any well-placed remarks. He couldn’t even glare at their retreating backs without sending a new spike of pain through his throbbing skull.
A glance at the post was enough to dispel any hopes he’d had of physically breaking free; it was covered in various scratches and scrapes from previous victims, and there was no sign that any of them had gotten anywhere close to damaging it.
He tenderly leaned his head back against the wood and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think of a way out. Trying not to let the creeping fear overwhelm his irritation.
A distant rustle made his head snap up with a painful jolt, scanning the treeline for a long moment, body drawn as taut as a bowstring.
Nothing. Nothing he could see, anyway.
Janus hissed lowly against the cloth of the gag, ignoring the way his hands had started shaking from where they were pinned behind his back.
It was going to be a long night.
Virgil was doing some early-morning web maintenance when he found them.
Or more accurately, stumbled across them. He regularly cut across this part of the forest to avoid running into anyone in the grove of fruit trees that the nearby town liked to harvest from, and he’d already been halfway across the clearing when the scent of blood hit him.
He stopped dead, shuffling his legs slightly to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and then turned to actually look over the open space with a growing sense of dread.
Oh. The weird wooden pole driven into the center of the clearing now had a human tied to it. One that was staring directly at him.
… How many times was this going to happen to him?!
Not the thing to focus on, right now. Virgil took a deep breath, forcing himself to assess his latest mess instead of cursing whatever deity had apparently thought it funny to put him in situations like this.
The human was on the shorter side, with disheveled blonde hair, mismatched eyes, and a startling pattern of greenish-gold scales along one side of their face. Their clothes were meticulously embroidered, though Virgil couldn’t make out the patterns through the extensive amount of ropes binding them to the wooden pole. As though those weren’t bad enough, there was a strange haphazard gag tied around their head, preventing them from speaking.
Clearly, they had been brought here against their will. Not unscathed, either. Their legs were stretched out in front of them, and though their pants were black, one pant leg was torn and glinting wetly with what was almost certainly blood.
The sight was enough to jolt Virgil into action, and he turned to actually face the stranger, skittering forward a few steps–
They recoiled harshly enough to bang the back of their head against the wood, and made a low, panicked sound of pain.
Virgil froze, his chest growing tight at the way they were watching him. Their eyes flicked over every inch of him like a cornered deer, their chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.
This wasn’t one of his humans. This was a stranger that had been left to an uncertain fate, now faced with a monster. They were terrified.
“Hey, I– I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice coming out slightly hoarse. He crept forward, slower now, with his hands raised in the human version of nonaggression. He tilted one down to gesture at their wound. “I don’t know how you got here, but that leg looks pretty bad.”
The stranger dragged both legs up to tuck their knees against their chest, curling into a defensive ball with a glare that screamed ‘back-off-don’t-touch-me’. The injured leg was visibly shaking with the strain.
“No, look– hey. I promise I’m not going to kill you or eat you or anything,” he tried, attempting to meet their eyes directly. He crept forward a few more steps. “I know that might be hard to believe with the whole giant spider thing but I’m very firmly anti-cannibalism. Even if it’s technically like, only partial cannibalism.”
That… actually didn’t sound super reassuring, out loud. Virgil winced, resisting the urge to groan. Why had he decided to start using words like ‘cannibalism’?
He really should just call it quits and go get one of the others. After all these years of avoiding contact to avoid scaring the life out of people, he finally had friends that could help him out of awkward situations like these.
Except… the thought of turning around and leaving the stranger like this, bound and helpless while those who did it to them were presumably still running around…
It would only be for a little while. Just until he could poke Patton awake and lead him back here. But a lot could happen in a little while.
The stranger was studying him with a little less mindless panic, now, but he could see the fine tremors running through their frame. It was probably from fear, or pain, or even… cold?
This close, he could see that their clothes were actually pretty damp everywhere, which was odd. The dirt was hard packed under them, no dew-covered grass in reach, and Virgil had been out and about for most of the night. It hadn’t rained this morning, only late… last night…
“Holy shit, you’ve been out here all night,” he said, horrified. “Bleeding!”
The stranger blinked at him with a level of mild disorientation that Virgil probably should have picked up on earlier.
Okay. Forget trying to coax them into letting him close enough to undo the binds and lead them back to town. The stranger was getting help whether they liked it or not.
Scurrying around the post, Virgil pulled his dagger and slit the restraints in one smooth movement, and then immediately swept in and plucked the human off the ground, lifting them up with the practiced strength of someone who regularly caught humans flinging themselves in his direction.
They responded with a distinctly-upset muffled protest, and a well-aimed kick to the gut.
“Don’t kick me with your injured leg, are you stupid?!” Virgil demanded through a wheeze, holding them out a little farther and twisting away from a second, much weaker kick. “Stop that!”
Deciding that making sure they didn’t bleed out took priority over trying to calm them down, he pulled some silk and wrapped it around the wound as best he could.
The stranger made a gargled hiss through the gag. Virgil hissed back absently, sticking the end of the webbing in place and deeming it a good enough placeholder bandage.
He readjusted so that he was carrying them more securely, an arm under their back and another wrapped around the crook of their knees, and hurried off towards the slowly-growing campsite where his humans were sleeping.
This was now officially an abduction; hopefully Roman wouldn’t get stabby about it.
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Escapism in Yellow (MERRY CHRISTMAS @remuspenus)
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Primroses and Periwinkles
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It was a normal day when it first started happening.
Roman thought he might’ve been getting sick. It was winter, and though the sides weren’t as easy to infect with diseases like the flu he was pretty sure it was still possible - he remembered Patton being sick a few times, at least.
And then, one day, when he and Virgil had been playfully bickering on the couch - another debate about which Disney movies were better that had him laughing and blushing - the petals started to appear.
----
| Ao3 |
----
Warnings:
TWs for this!!!
Hanahaki disease (blood, coughing up flowers, non graphic descriptions for the most part)
Illness, a character believing they're going to die.
A small amout of mentioned food stuff.
This does have a happy ending! I promise!
Pairings: Prinxiety
Word Count: 2767
Notes:
Five years ago when I started writing fanfiction, I told myself I'd never write a hanahaki fic. Yet here we are.
This is my gift for @candied-peach for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange tumblr! I really hope you enjoy <3
----
It was a normal day when it first started happening.
Roman thought he might’ve been getting sick. It was winter, and though the sides weren’t as easy to infect with diseases like the flu he was pretty sure it was still possible - he remembered Patton being sick a few times, at least. 
His throat was sore, and he kept coughing - he must be getting a cold, it’ll be over in a week, he thought as he got on with his duties in the imagination regardless.
For the next few weeks it didn’t get much worse, but it certainly didn’t get better either. Roman gathered that it couldn’t be a cold - they never lasted this long, and besides he had none of the other symptoms. In the end he’d gone to Logan, but he hadn’t been able to figure it out either.
The only other thing he had noticed - that he most definitely hadn’t told Logan - was that it only seemed to get worse around Virgil.
Which was weird, because that’s not how sicknesses were supposed to work, but whenever Virgil said some snarky comment that made Roman laugh he’d feel like something was pressed against his lungs and he’d end up in a coughing fit. Every time Virgil stuck his tongue between his lips while concentrating in a way that made Roman want to lean over and kiss him, every time he made that cute pouty face whenever someone interrupted whatever he was doing - It all made Roman dizzy, and so many times he’d have to run off so that Virgil wouldn’t be concerned when Roman erupted into chest wracking coughs. 
And then, one day, when he and Virgil had been playfully bickering on the couch - another debate about which Disney movies were better that had him laughing and blushing - the petals started to appear. 
He’d got back to his room that night just to stand over the sink coughing - afraid he might throw up with the force of it - only to be left with a sink full of soft, purple petals. They looked like they might’ve come from periwinkle flowers, but they were too scrunched and ruined by his coughing to tell for sure.
Roman stared at the sink full of flower petals for a long time. He felt a tear drip down his cheek as he realised abruptly what this meant. 
It only got worse from there.
When he tried to avoid Virgil it felt like the flowers were choking him, when he tried to hang out with Virgil more the fear of him finding out about the petals was overwhelming enough that Virgil started to notice. It threw him into such a panic that before long he was coughing up whole flowers, whole bunches of purple primroses and periwinkles he spat into the small bin in his bedroom - the purple petals soaked with his own blood as the flowers had started to take root in his lungs. He knew he didn’t have much time left. 
“Hanahaki?” Logan asked as Roman sat on a stool in his bedroom, coughing pathetically every few moments, sometimes spitting a loose petal or two into a plastic bag Logan had handed him a few moments in. 
“Yeah I-” Roman coughed, “It’s a fictional disease-”
“I know what it is,” Logan chided gently, “The disease that makes you cough up flowers when you’re in love with someone.”
“Unrequited,” Roman added, Logan rubbed his back in a way that was barely comforting as he coughed his way through flower buds and petals - he was close to tears when Logan spoke again.
“Unrequited?”
“It only - it only happens when the person you love doesn’t-” The bag was almost full already, “-doesn’t love you back.”
“So you believe that Virgil does not return your affection?” Logan asked, Roman thought he might vomit, or cry, or probably both. 
“I- I never mentioned Virgil-” He choked out past the flower petals laying heavy on his tongue, "Who said anything about Virgil?"
“Purple flowers,” Logan says, deadpan, “And your crush on him is and always has been less than subtle to everyone besides Virgil.”
“Oh,” Roman choked.
“However, Virgil’s obliviousness towards your affections does not mean the feelings are unrequited, nor do the flowers, they just mean that you believe they are.”
“Then- then what do I do?” Roman asked, the first tear escaping his eyes as he coughed up yet more flowers, the broken stems tearing at the back of his throat. In his mind, he already knew the answer.
Logan sighed, “You will not like the solution.”
“...I have to talk to him, don’t I?” Roman asked sadly.
“Unfortunately so.”
Roman hated this so much. Why did he have to be the fantasy one here? Why couldn't it have been Janus with his very clear crush on Logan, or Patton with his slightly strange level of interest in his brother. He sighed.
“Fine, I’ll talk to him later,” Roman said after a long while of being stared at by Logan. 
“Talk to him soon, Roman, or this will continue to get worse.”
—-
Roman really should have listened to Logan. 
In actuality, he felt that he should have listened to Logan quite a lot, but this time he really regretted not taking his advice, because he had put off talking to Virgil and his situation had certainly gotten worse. 
By now, just a week later, Roman found himself without much choice but to hole up in his room and hope no-one came looking for him. 
Nothing seemed to help, thinking about Virgil made it worse, not thinking about Virgil also seemed to make it worse. There was no relief from the onslaught of flowers in his lungs - his room was practically covered in the petals now, he didn’t have the energy to clean them up anymore.
It was pathetic, Roman thought as he laid on his bed, barely able to force down water - let alone food. He could barely move, he was so tired, his lungs perpetually hurt - he hadn’t been able to move without spikes of pain consuming his chest in weeks and weeks. Even if he wanted to go and find Virgil now - he needed to tell him, needed to make this pain stop - he couldn’t. He could hardly move from his bed with the pain and the exhaustion quickly catching up to him. 
He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 
—-
“Has anyone seen Roman?” Virgil asked a day later at dinner, looking around at the other two sides present. Patton shrugged when Virgil’s eyes fell on him.
“I haven’t seen him for a few days, kiddo, I’d assumed he was off on one of his adventures again…”
“Other than him running away from me whenever I see him I haven’t seen him for weeks…” Virgil said, frowning, “I haven’t seen him either - I’m worried- well, obviously, but….”
“He’s not usually gone on adventures for this long,” Logan points out, “Perhaps we should check on him.”
“You think he might just be in his room?” Patton asked, tilting his head, “Avoiding us?”
Logan sighed, “It would be unwise to rule it out as a possibility, though if he is hiding in his room, it may be best that Virgil is the one to confront him.”
“Wait what?” Virgil asked, barely managing to not bolt up from his chair in surprise, “Why me?”
“Not only are you best equipped of all of us to handle a situation in which Roman is panicking or scared-” Logan points out, “But the fact that he’s been avoiding you specifically means that if he should be having an issue, it may be something to do with you.”
“And… how exactly would that help, if Virgil went?” Patton asked doubtfully, “Might it not make things worse?”
“I strongly believe that Virgil going would be best for Roman,” Logan reiterated firmly. Something about his tone had the other two pausing. 
Patton was first to break the tense silence, “Do you know something we don’t, kiddo?”
“If I knew anything, it would not be my place to share,” Logan said, frowning at the both of them. After a long pause when it seemed neither of them would protest further, Logan turned to Virgil with a softer expression, “I know that the way Roman has been acting towards you recently may be considered rude, however, I would like to request you look past that until you find out why.”
Virgil just stares at him for a long moment and Logan crossed his fingers that Virgil would just take that go. Thankfully, Virgil simply took a deep breath and stood up.
“Okay, fine, if you think this is so important,” He said, turning to leave the room. Patton watched him go in confusion, before looking at Logan with an eyebrow raised, clearly asking what on earth that was about.
“You’ll find out in due time,” Logan sighed, going back to dinner. If this worked out, Roman would be in for a lecture about listening to him in future, considering this time it had almost cost them dearly. If it didn’t… well, Logan didn’t know what he’d do, let alone the others. 
—-
Virgil didn’t understand. Since when has Logan been so cryptic about things? Usually he would explain as thoroughly as possible, the difference set Virgil’s teeth on edge. Unfortunately, Logan’s weird behaviour is what led Virgil to believe that something more important really was actually going on here, so he had to go along with it. 
Knocking on Roman’s door gave no results, though he could hear something from inside, he wasn’t sure what it was, unable to make out the sound properly. 
“Roman?” He called, knocking again, rewarded with a pained groan, “Roman? It’s me, Virgil, um, I know you’ve been avoiding me and you probably don’t want to see me but Logan was being weird and told me to check on you-”
Nothing, and then choking coughs, mixed with a sob. What the hell?
“Roman if you don’t say anything I’m gonna come in, okay?” Virgil called, “I’m worried about you-”
Nothing but the same, so Virgil pressed down on the handle and opened the door. 
Oh. he thought, weakly. 
Roman laid on his bed, still in costume though said costume was stained down the front with blood and petals that dripped from his chin, shrivelled petals - petals in small puddles of blood - petals, petals, so many petals, and leaves, some whole flowers with thick stems. For a long moment Virgil couldn’t say anything.
Roman looked awful, the fire in his eyes dulled as he looked up at Virgil pitifully, his tan skin was paler, there were bags under his eyes that rivalled Virgil’s own, his usually pristine hair was plastered to his face with sweat, tears were running down his face. Roman looked awful.
“Oh my god…” Virgil said softly, taking a step forward, “What the hell happened to you?”
“You weren’t-” Roman coughed, cutting himself off with chest-heaving coughs that had him spitting out more bloodsoaked flowers, it made it impossible to see what colour they really were, “You weren’t supposed to- to see this.”
“Why the fuck not?” Virgil asked, shutting the door behind him and practically running over, kneeling down beside Roman’s bed - reaching out, before hesitating, “You- you’re suffering princey, why the hell shouldn’t I know? I want to help!”
Roman whined, “Because- because you- you don’t-” He was cut off by yet more painful coughing, yet more flowers, Virgil felt tears prick in his eyes at the mere sight of Roman in so much pain, Roman who had gone out of his way so often to accommodate for Virgil after he’d joined the group, Roman who always tried to hard, Roman who was sweet and kind and sensitive no matter what fronts he tried to put up.. Virgil couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain. 
“I don't.. what? Princey?” Virgil said, still a little panicked. He gently cupped Roman’s cheek with his hand and Roman leant into it immediately, closing his eyes but still looking hurt and upset. Virgil tried to wipe away some of the blood, but Roman just coughed weakly and more blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, “Are- are you dying?” he didn’t want to ask. 
“I don’t- I don’t know,” Roman mumbled, before turning and spitting more petals onto the ever growing pile nearby, Virgil thought some of them might be purple, but he didn’t know what that meant.
“Can I do anything?” Virgil asked, trying to blink away his own tears - If Roman left… Virgil had no idea what he’d do, “I don’t want you to go.”
“I- I don’t know- Virge,” Roman huffed, wiping his mouth with his already bloodsoaked sleeve, “I can’t force you.”
“Force me… what? To help you? Because you don’t have to force me to do shit,” Virgil says, “I like you, dumbass, that’s what you do when you like people.”
Roman stared at him for a long, sad moment, tears once again dripping down his cheeks, “I’m so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” Virgil asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised - here Roman was, lying in a pool of his own blood and flower petals, looking like he was practically on the verge of death and he was apologising?
“I love you,” Roman said, abruptly, sending Virgil rearing back, eyes somehow wider and face growing hot to the tips of his ears, “I- I’m sorry - I know you don’t love me and- and I can’t make you- and it’s unfair for you to- to see - this - when you can’t do anything - and it’s just- well - it’s my own fault, really, you don’t need to feel guilty…”
Virgil stood up, and with the look in his eyes Virgil knew that Roman expected with every fibre of his being for Virgil to turn around and leave him there. Instead he sat down on the bed and gently coaxed Roman to sit up through winces and the occasional coughs. He really didn't think Virgil loved him back? After everything - hell, Virgil thought he'd been pretty obvious about his crush on the Prince.
“Roman- I-” Virgil started, still blushing, before just shaking his head, “fuck, if you weren’t covered in blood right now I’d kiss you.”
“You don’t - you don’t have to pretend,” Roman said, gently pushing his hands away as he coughed up what - looking back - must have been the last of the flowers, Virgil put his hands back just as quickly, making Roman look up at him with wide eyes - almost hopeful.
“I’m not pretending, dumbass - of course I love you, how the hell could I not? You’re you! Why didn’t you just- say so?” he squished Roman’s cheeks and briefly noted that colour seemed to slowly be returning to them, Roman coughed, but this time no petals came out. 
“I was… scared,” Roman said, ducking his head as far as Virgil’s hands would allow, “That you wouldn’t love me back - that you would but it wouldn’t fix all of this - I guess I was just-”
“Anxious?” Virgil chuckled, making Roman blush and nod, “...me too.”
Roman stayed silent, though a weak smile was playing on his lips now and he leant into Virgil’s hands on his face. It was obvious he was weak, Virgil had no idea how close he’d cut it to saving Roman, but it was clear he was already starting to do much better. Virgil didn’t like to believe in fairytales, but love really did seem to be quite powerful.
He’d have to thank Logan later. 
But for now…
“Come on, let's get you cleaned up,” Virgil said, gently helping Roman up, sure it was horribly uncomfortable to be covered in your own blood, “...when did you last eat?”
“I don’t… Know…” Roman said, looking embarrassed. 
“Okay - how about you get changed and have a shower, I’ll grab you dinner and we can meet back in my room and um- we can just…”
“Cuddle?” 
“Yeah, that.”
“I’d love to,” Roman said with a soft smile, “And I’ll take that kiss later, too.”
“Don’t push your luck,” Virgil teased, though he still kissed Roman’s forehead as he pulled away.
��
“How did it go?” Logan asked when Virgil arrived back downstairs. Virgil sighed.
“Well, thanks to you,” Virgil said, mostly begrudgingly as he heated up Roman’s portion of their dinner, “He’s okay now, we’re uh-” He blushed, “Gonna cuddle, once I get him to eat something.”
“Gross,” Logan said, though he was smiling fondly as he waved Virgil off. 
No-one saw either of them until dinner the next day. 
----
Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)
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Text
Burning Timber, Grey Fog
Woo boy, it's day four already? Damn. Finally made a taglist! Just a general one for my fics. If ya want to be on it, pls ask.
Pairing: Logince, gen
Trigger/Content Warning: depression, overworking, insecurity
Description: Roman has a horrible creative block due to burnout, and Logan experiences brain fog unlike any other. They decide to take care of each other for a nice day of rest and self-care.
Extra: written for Day 4: Block by Burnout of @loginceweek2024! Inputting a little bit of ‘Logan struggles with depression’ because I say so. Also, making creative burnout literal for Creativity is a must (change my mind, you can’t). Got rushed, sorry folks!
[Masterlist] | ao3 link
[read under the cut]
When Roman’s hand sparks, he realizes that it won’t be a productive day. 
When Logan wakes up in figurative fog and struggles with moving much, he knows it’ll be a day of grey. 
When Roman’s hand sparks, he realizes that it won’t be a productive day. 
He has so much to do. He has to reword a few things in this paragraph, finish the draft for another project, rework an entire section of this other one… He’s already late on a lot of these, and Thomas has commitments he agreed to. He can’t just not go because his Creativity is being slow and not doing its job. Roman needs to be creative, he needs to get these things done. He has to. He knows, everyone knows, he has to. 
His ink-stained hands ache and start to burn, but he just pushes on. The feathered pen he writes with is an extension of his arm by now, and it scribbles words onto the pages before him. The words themselves look blurry- he can’t tell if it says want or won’t- and the paper seems to blend in with his desk. He can’t quite remember which project he’s working on right now. Is it the short story? Is it the poetry collection, the one he needs to reframe a little? He’s not sure, but he still needs to write, write, write. What kind of Prince would he be if he let down his family and his centre? He can’t afford to let down the Others, to let down Thomas. He can’t stop. Even if his hands burn now, he can’t stop. 
His hands disagree with him, however, when one sparks and catches the paper on fire. It’s only a small flame, but it breaks Roman from his thoughts. He immediately pulls his hands away, dropping his pen. He tries to blow the fire out. He resorts to dumping some of his water on it- wait, when did he get water- which puts out the fire, but it also wets the thin paper. A corner of the paper is burnt and ashy. Roman sets his forgotten water cup down and stares at his ruined project. He put all that work, all that hard work, into finishing this project and now he has get new paper and rewrite everything, and- and- 
Roman hands spark again as spots of wet drip onto his desk. He realizes a minute late that he’s crying, eyes red-rimmed already. He inhales a shaky breath as he shrinks in his chair. He knows what this means, when his hands spark and he catches things on fire and ruins things. He sniffles as he holds his hands tucked against his chest, still staring at what he did. It hurts, very much so, to see all of the time and energy wasted because of his stupid, stupid hands. He curses under his breath, conceding to the fact that this means it won’t be a productive day for him. At least, not what he considers productive. He’s heard Janus’ lecture before: self-care is productive, it helps your health, you need to rest for a bit and listen to your body and blah, blah, blah. Guilt bubbles up in his gut and to his chest. His chest aches, his heart aches, at the thought of not getting work done.
Lazy, lazy, lazy, he can practically hear his thoughts. 
Roman can’t sit here, he knows. He’ll just try to work more and catch more things on fire, and ruin more things, and he can’t do that ‘cause it doesn’t help. 
Stupid, f*cking burnout. 
And he can’t think if he could still work on projects. His mind feels all jumbled and messy and it’s like… like… well, he can't even think of a simple metaphour. He sighs, sniffling again. He should go find someone. It’s better when he can be distracted with someone. He wants comfort, though he feels so icky to want. 
“It’s okay that I want things,” he mumbles to himself, a reminder the Others often tell him. 
So, before his thoughts can yell at him more, he forces himself out of his chair and out his door. 
~~~ 
When Logan wakes up in figurative fog and struggles with moving much, he knows it’ll be a day of grey. 
He can hardly open his eyes.  He feels icky and gross and sweaty as he lays in bed with sheets this way and that. It takes great effort to just look around and spot his clock. It reads 11pm. He sighs, realizing how late he slept in. Late for him, at least. Logan hears static in his ears, and his mind buzzes slowly and unsure. Every moment he makes to adjust his position or feel around for his glasses makes his body groan in protest like an old machine, unoiled and rusty. Everything feels so grey. It’s like… his brain feels soaked in figurative fog, and it takes a lot to move. It sucks, especially because he’d promised Janus yesterday they’d play chess today. He has work to do, a commitment he can’t just get out of, and he’s just being so lazy.
He tucks his arm back under him when he can’t find his glasses. Frustration shifts into upset and tears prick his eyes. He doesn’t understand why. It’s just his glasses, there’s no reason to be emotional. He whimpers pathetically as it gets worse. He’s going to fail like this. He can’t fail, he’s Logic. Logic can’t fail. That’s not how it works, he can’t fail, Logic can’t fail, he can’t- can’t-
A knock on his door gets left unanswered, no energy to even get out of bed. He tries to stifle a stupid whine, but it slips quietly through his throat. The person knocks again, and he hopes they go away. He hopes they won’t see and hear how lazy and pathetic he’s being. 
I need to get up. I need to work. I can’t be lazy, I can’t.
“...Lo?” a soft, familiar voice calls from beyond the door. 
If only he could think, he’d name the voice. 
“Logan, I'm coming in, okay?”
Logan shuts his eyes again, giving up on moving. He hears a distant concerned noise as someone walks over to his bedside. He feels the sheet ruffle and shift as the person sits beside him. They brush strands of greasy hair out of his face, and the warm hand makes him lean into the touch. The person coos at him, repeating the action. After a little bit, Logan’s eyes slowly crack open. It’s blurry, but he can make out red and gold and white. 
“Hey there, specs. Welcome to the waking world,” it’s Roman, his brain finally supplies, brushing his hair back. 
His voice is soft and gentle, and it makes Logan float a little. He hums at the nerd. 
“Can you move today, or is it a lot?” the Prince asks. 
As soon as the nerd groans, he has his answer. 
“Okay, sweetheart. How about a bath, hm? I bet that’d help get all the ickiness off.”
“Then I- I’d get up,” Logan slurs, whining. 
“Don’t worry, little nerd, I’ll help you. Okay?”
“Okay…”
Roman slowly scoops his struggling detective in his arms, easing him up a little against his pillows. 
“Alright, I’m going to sit you up all the way. Squeeze my hand if you need to stop, little nerd.”
Logan nods, and Roman takes one of his hands in his. He squeezes lightly and Logan responds, showing he can tell him to stop if need be. He gently helps the logical Side sit up, keeping an eye on him as he does so. As soon as he’s sat up, he places a light kiss on his icky hair, not caring how icky it may be because Logan is more important. 
“There we go. Good job, sweetheart. I’m proud of you,” Roman mumbles against his hair. 
“Mm, yeah?”
“Yeah. Now, do you think you can try standing up, or do you want me to carry you?”
Logan heistates, “...carry, please?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Lean on your headboard for me, alright?”
The detective does as bid as Roman separates himself from him. A whine slips from his lips as he pulls away, and the Prince shushes him as he hooks his arms under Logan’s knees and behind his back. Logan takes the opportunity to place his arms around Roman’s neck and lean on him. Or at least, attempt to move his arms the best he can. Roman slowly lifts him as his hands end up resting on his chest. Logan can’t find it in him to care. 
Eventually, they make it to the bathroom. The knight sets his nerd on the toilet as he starts the bath. He makes sure it’s warm enough, but not burning, before he turns back to his nerd. 
“Need help in, sweetheart?”
“No,” he speaks so softly.
“Okay, want me in here with you, or are you okay by yourself?”
“Mm, myself.”
“Alright. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be right out the door, okay? I’ll put some soft clothes for you on the sink before I leave.”
Logan just nods as Roman places a pair of soft clothes on the sink next to him. He kisses Logan’s forehead before he leaves and shuts the door behind him. Logan takes a breath for a minute before he prepares for his bath. Roman sits against the door, almost as if to keep watch while his companion takes care of himself. 
~~~
After a while of helping Logan out the bath and down to the living room, he sets them both up on the couch. 
There’s two water glasses on the coffee table in front of them, along with selections of snacks and such to keep fed. Logan wears his unicorn onesie, fiddling with a small crow plushie with fabric glasses on it. Its eyes are orange. Roman sits beside him, now in soft things instead of his prince outfit, pulling up Netflix on the tv. There’s a space blanket wrapped around the nerd that huddles in. 
“Roman?” 
“Yeah, what is it, specs?”
“Why… what were you doing in front of my door earlier?”
Roman shifts in his spot.
“Well, it was late for you, and you weren’t up, so… I came to check on you.”
“...you noticed I was gone?”
Roman lightly scoffs, “Of course, I did. What kind of quest- oh, oh hey.”
He turns to see tears sluggishly fall down Logan’s face. He makes a concerned noise as he thumbs the tears away, cupping his face and sitting down the remote. Logan avoids his eyes, sniffling quietly. 
“Oh, sweetheart, what’s going on in that mind of yours?” Roman asks gently. 
“I, I just-”
To his horror, he cries harder. Roman scoops him up in his arms, into his lap, and rocks him. Logan buries himself under his chin, breathing shakily as he cries. When it sounds painful, Roman shushes him and rubs soothing circles on his back. 
“I just didn’t…” Logan speaks as his cries slowly calm down, gulping around the lodge in his throat. “I didn’t think anyone would notice. I- there’s a lot I need to do, and I can’t.”
“Oh, Logan… someone will always notice. Not just me. Patton would, and Virgil, and what do you think Janus and Remus would do? Hm?”
“Remus would break my door,” he grumbles.
Roman lightly chuckles, because he’s seen Remus break doors to get to others before, and he knows he does more than just that. He can’t count the number of times his brother smashed his door or plop in on top of him from the ceiling, all because he sensed Roman having a Bad Brain Day. 
“Yeah, he would. And Janus would start talking about how it’s okay to feel like that. Because it is, sweetheart. It’s okay if your brain isn’t cooperating, or if today’s a grey one.”
Logan nods smally against his chest, “I know. You know that too, right?”
Roman heistates, “Um, yeah, of course I do.”
Logan gives him a look as he turns up at him. 
“What?”
“You’re burntout, Roman.”
The Prince pauses at the bluntness, glancing away from the detective in his arms. 
“I saw your hands sparking and twitching earlier. Which is why,” he grabs one of Roman’s hands for emphasis. “I asked why you were outside my door.”
“I did notice, by the way. The Others would’ve gotten to spoil you, and I want a turn.”
Logan smiles slightly, “I know. But you know you also have to be spoiled.”
“But I have things to do, and I can’t just stop, and let people down-”
“Someone told me it’s okay if you need rest, Roman.”
Roman scoffs, “Using my own words against me.”
“Technically, they’re Janus’ words-”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Guess it’s a Bad Brain Day for both of us.”
“Then let me spoil you, too. I want to.”
Roman rests his chin on Logan’s head as his detective leans back against his chest. 
“Only if I can still spoil you, nerd.”
“We’ll spoil each other, then.”
Roman smiles at that, picking the remote up with his free hand. 
“So, what should we watch then?”
The pair do as promised and take care of each other for the rest of the day. Caring for Logan is the perfect distraction Roman needs, and it helps Logan feel all the more loved and appreciated. Logan reminds his prince that taking a break from creating is okay, and that he’s happy to spoil the sh*t out of him. They cuddle and watch movies for a long while before one of the Others starts making dinner, spotting the duo on the couch. 
Janus watches from the shadows, smiling as he sees them rest and relax for once in their workaholic lives.
Taglist: @lost-in-thought-20
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pencilpat · 7 months
Text
You Do Not Have to be Good - moceit
Tumblr media
Patton hates alcohol. Not particularly for a moral reason, it just tastes godawful to him. But he came to Janus's room for a distraction, and goshdarnit he'll take it. He cringes through a sip as they sit on the floor, and Janus laughs.
"Oh, Patton, it's cider. Barely any alcohol at all, and you can barely stomach even that." As if to prove a point, Janus swings back his bottle and takes a sip so large he gulps audibly. Patton can't help a small giggle, even as bad as he feels.
"Gosh, Jan, I don't know how you and Logan handle this stuff."
"Simple. We're not man-babies."
Patton laughs and lightly punches Janus's shoulder, coaxing the smallest of smiles from the other man. He settles back against the wall. Janus isn't used to guests, aside from one who isn't a fan of sitting 'properly,' so he has no chairs strewn around his room the way the light sides do.
Janus tilts the liquid around in his bottle with a sigh. "Care to tell me what brought you to me today? My room isn't exactly one of our typical 'spots'."
"Oh! Oh, nothing special or anything, just checking up on you," he says, flashing a winning smile.
"How many times are we going to visit each other before you remember you can't lie to me?" Janus states bluntly, not looking at Patton at all, his eyes fixed on the blank wall across from them.
"Whu- uh- lying? I'm not-"
"How many times will I have to say that sentence? You can not follow 'you can't lie to me' up with a lie, Patton, that's not how this works."
"Look I- I don't really want to talk about it. I came to hang out with you, I don't wanna just-"
"So you're going to talk to one of the others then, yes?" Janus's eyes flit over the fading dark blue in Patton's hair. "How about Logan? I'm sure he'd totally be helpful here, I mean, being so good with his emotions."
Patton frowns at him and Janus sighs, rewording. "All I mean is, you don't talk to anyone else, so it stands to reason that if I don't get you to spit it out, you'll keep 'doing your thing' and only ever talking about how you feel at a surface level while letting the pressure below build and build until you blow up. Am I wrong?"
Patton blinks at him, and then turns away, curling his legs up towards his body and squeezing his free hand's nails into his palm. He's taken to doing that lately, though he doesn't know why. Someone says something that hurts, and he digs his nails deep into his skin or bites his lip so hard it bleeds, then the pain is gone. Dig, dig, gone. "That's not very kind, Janus."
Janus shrugs. The sun is beginning to set, and the room is going golden, the dark walls being cast in the shadows of Janus's blinds. "If someone was never anything but kind, they'd be a liar. I don't want to lie to you forever."
"You don't?"
"Oh wow, yeah, sound shocked about that, sure." Janus rolls his eyes, but he doesn't look angry. "Patton, it's stupid to keep going like you are. Look, if anyone can keep secrets, it's you and me - I'm the best one to talk to here. None of the others seem smart enough to notice how messed up you've been."
Patton cringes, and takes a drink of his cider, which makes him cringe harder. "I'm not... that bad, am I? That obvious?"
"It's pretty bad, dad," Janus sighs. He finally looks at the other man, meeting his eyes. "I promise, okay? And I don't do that lightly. I won't speak a word of whatever is bothering you."
Patton's brow furrows, and he breathes out slowly. He digs his nails into his palm again. Breathes again. Just the offer of talking is threatening to bust down year old dams, but perhaps Janus is right, and this needs to happen. And... he did promise. He's never done that before.
"It's not exactly simple to explain... I guess it's just- it's like- I'm-" Patton sighs, frustrated. "I just don't know anymore if- if I'll ever get it right."
"Right?"
"Being morality. Being... good." Patton's voice strains, and he wipes at his face. "I don't know if I can ever be good, be good enough, be good at my job. I've been messing up nearly everything lately! I can't keep Thomas good, and when I do try to keep him good, I end up being an overbearing jerk. I can't seem to make Roman happy, or Virgil anymore, and," Patton plays with the fringe tips of blue in his hair, almost subconsciously, "I can't make Logan feel good either. We used to be so, so close. Worked through all of our issues, we were really good friends! But he's been so- look, I know he says he doesn't feel anything, but I can tell he's feeling something! And he won't tell any of us about it."
Janus drinks, reserving information as he always does. Patton is upset enough, now's not the time.
"All I've ever wanted was to be good," his voice breaks, and he clears his throat, blinking back hot tears. "Ever since I've existed, I've wanted to be good. What would it mean for Thomas if his morality isn't good?! Maybe you were right, I'm just pointing him towards hell. I'm not doing my job right. How can I be messing up so much? I used to be the one who the others looked at to know everything..." He bites his lip hard, but it doesn't do anything this time. He's crying now, wiping the sleeve of his cat hoodie across his face furiously.
"Who says you have to be good?"
"What?"
Janus sighs, sipping his drink. "'You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.' Mary Oliver. Goodness isn't necessary one hundred and twenty-five percent of the time. You're an animal like any other, and you only need do what makes you happy, just like any other. You're not some divine being above the ability to screw up or be sad."
"You and Thomas's religious sensibilities are very tied together. You're stuck on this idea that as morality, you can only ever have good and pure ideas. You can never make mistakes, and you can never be wrong. Look, sure, we're no humans, but you're a piece of a human, and they're kind of renowned for their mistake making. I've told you before, Patton. If you're making a genuine effort to do better, then your apologies mean enough. You've repented. You didn't even need to, but you do anyway. Because you're good, as much as a side can be. You're so good you make me sick sometimes. I was being a dick when I said you're pointing him towards hell, being a dick is kind of my thing. I don't think you're even capable of knowingly being a bad person."
Patton feels tears pour down his face, staring sightlessly at his bottle as Janus rants. He's drawn blood from his lip. The words are making some deep piece of him ache worse than he has in years. Without thinking, he sets his head on Janus's shoulder. Janus barely blinks, leaning into him as he continues.
"You do make the others happy, Patton. They love you so much it's gross. But they have issues as well. Issues that are getting worse as Thomas's mental health is plummeting. All pieces of Thomas have gripes and qualms right now, I don't understand you all's strange insistence on everything being fine. Want me to lie? Everything is just fine! Why, nothing is eating at any of you, and you're at the peak of your lives!" Janus sighs, eyes closing. "It's okay to experience pain, you know. It doesn't make you bad. Nor does making mistakes. It makes you a living thing, as caught up in your own world and worries as every other living thing. You're doing okay, Patton. You'll never be perfect, but I watch you do everything you can every day. For crying out loud, let that soft animal of 'you' catch a break."
Patton sniffs, letting out a shaking sigh. "Why does hearing all that hurt me?"
"Because you've never heard it before, probably. Has anyone, ever, at all, told you to give yourself a break?"
"I... I guess not, not really. I don't know. I don't feel like I deserve it."
"I say you deserve it. If you won't listen to yourself, listen to me. Listen to a... friend."
Patton nearly physically startles at that word coming from Janus. "Friend?"
"If you make me repeat myself we're never having these visits again, watch it."
"We're friends?" Patton lifts his head, grinning despite his tear streaked face. Janus makes a frustrated noise, his face going red, but he lets Patton hug him nonetheless. Patton laughs, despite it all, holding Janus against his chest. The parts of his heart that were aching feel suddenly wrapped in warmth, like a heating pad on a pained muscle. And as Janus sets aside his drink and properly returns the hug, Patton's heart feels so many things, but mostly, at least for now, it feels at peace.
"Are you going to actually give yourself a rest, or did literally all of that go in one ear and out the other?"
Patton laughs. "Thanks, Janus. Really, thank you. Um. Not going to tell anyone still, right?"
"Of course," Janus places a hand on his heart and holds the other up in a pledge. "We both have trouble verbalizing emotions anyways."
"Can't say I'm surprised! Get it? Can't say?"
"Yes, Patton, I got it," Janus rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You know I just hate puns."
"Liar liar!"
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roseianxiety · 3 months
Text
All wrapped up by the fireplace
Ship: Romantic Roceit
Content Warnings: Mentions of alcohol usage, drunkenness, foul language, slight innuendo
Synopsis: Roman has some alone time with himself after their little Christmas Eve celebration, but a certain drunken snake approaches him and ruins his peace. At least that's what he thinks.
AO3
“Roman, is it really necessary for you to turn the living room into THIS?” 
Logan queries loudly as he gestures to the living room, now completely covered in Christmas decor and where their TV stood was now replaced with a grand brick fireplace. Roman really put a lot of effort into all this grandiosity.
“Yes, Logan, it is necessary.” Roman drawled out as he gave Logan a look while hanging the last ornament on the Christmas tree. He then added, hopping off his little stool. “You'd really expect ME to NOT go all out on Christmas?” he remarked at Logan.
Logan merely sighs and rolls his eyes, making his way towards his recliner chair. “I shouldn't have expected less from you and Patton when it comes to celebrating festivities,” he stated, gently sitting down and opening up one of the newspapers Virgil gave him. 
Roman hums proudly before strutting to the kitchen to check on whatever Patton was working on.
“Hey, Popstar, how's the baked goods doing there?” Roman questions cheerily from across the counter, propping his palm under his chin while he watches Patton do his thing.
Patton turns around, slightly surprised at Roman's sudden appearance but then giggles. “Oh hey ya, kiddo, didn't see you there.”. He continued, pulling out a tray of gingerbread man cookies out of the oven. “I'm almost done with the last batch. Careful, they're very hot.”.
He says before placing the tray down on the countertop to let it cool. Roman immediately reaches for one but hisses in pain and pulls his hand back when he burns himself with the piping-hot cookies. “Ow…”.
Patton tuts and shakes his head at Roman's impulsiveness, “I did tell you they're hot. You saw me take them out of the oven just now.”. He reaches to take Roman's hand but the other declines and pulls away. 
“Nah, it's okay. This burn is far from reaching my intestines anyway, so I'm cool. I was merely excited to taste your fantastic cookies, Padre.” Roman shrugs and moves to try and take one but Patton gently slaps his hand away. The creative prince pouts at that.
“No no, they're still piping hot. And, we still have to wait for the last batch before we can finally eat all of these.” Patton states with a raised chin, trying to seem authoritative but he looks silly and cute. Don't tell him that.
“Bummer,” Roman mutters with a pout before sighing. He straightens (ha!) his posture and stretches his arms over his head, turning on his heels. “Anyways, you better continue that while I go check whatever chaos Remus is doing. Don't want him ruining my party.”.
He says as he makes his way back to the living room. As he does so, he could see Virgil hissing aggressively at Remus while his twin brother was teasing the crap out of the anxious facet.
“Come on, take him! He's Mr. Fuzzy’s boyfriend!” Remus exclaimed, trying to give another handcrafted hairball abomination to Virgil who was desperately trying to get away from him. And Janus was there, laughing his drunk ass off by the sidelines.
Virgil notices Roman walking towards them and immediately calls for him while trying to stop Remus from getting close to him. “Roman! Come get your unhinged brother!” He exclaimed, before hissing at Remus.
“Hi, Roman~” Janus giggles drunkenly as he gives Roman a small. Geez… he really was drunk. Roman chooses to ignore him.
“Sorry Virgil but you're gonna have to deal with him yourself.” Roman hums, raising his hands in defense. Virgil groans at his response, now more annoyed. Remus then pushes the hairball abomination right at Virgil's face, causing the other to yelp.
Roman leaves them be and walks towards the couch, plopping just beside Logan who was engrossed with his puzzle thing or whatever it was. He tried to take a peek at it only for his face to scrunch up in confusion, not understanding one bit of it. Roman didn't what was so interesting about it but eh, at least Logan was having the time of his life.
He leans back on the couch while he watches as the fire crackles in the fireplace, emitting a cozy warmth that he always loved. Roman might now admit it out loud but he loved enjoying his Christmas with everyone. It’s good not to be alone.
“To be honest, I didn't think Remus would be this… tame when he is drunk. How surprising.” Logan comments as looks down at Remus on the floor before sipping on his wine. The chaotic individual was currently splayed out on the living room floor, already deadbeat asleep.
Patton carefully takes the empty mug from Remus’ grasp, trying not to wake him up. “So alcohol is just the way to calm him down?” He says, letting out a soft yelp when Remus grumbles and pulls the mug away from him, hugging it close. Patton frowns and leans back on the couch but not before grabbing two cookies from the snack platter.
“You know, it's already late and I already feel the spirit of Christmas welling up inside me. And by that, I mean vomit. Merry Christmas y'all, I'm gonna go bury myself in the comforts of my blankets.” Virgil suddenly says as he gets up from his usual place on the couch before sinking out, not letting anyone say a word.
Logan proceeds to check the time on his wristwatch. “Virgil is right, it is past twelve and my bedtime schedule. Merry Christmas everyone. Be sure to sleep well.” He says in a monotone, glancing at the rest of them. He then leaves as well, following right after Virgil.
“Aww geez, everyone's going to sleep now. I'm starting to feel eepy too. So sorry your party didn't go the way you wanted it to, Roman.” Patton apologizes with a small frown as he looks at the princely trait but Roman waves it off.
“It's quite alright, Patton, I am not easily upset at something so trivial.” He says casually, getting up from his spot on the couch and beginning to stretch his arms, hearing satisfying pops from his joints. “You go ahead and rest your adorable self, I'll deal with all the mess here.” Roman then added.
“Are you sure? I can help you—”
Roman immediately cuts Patton off before he can even continue his sentence, “Shush, Patton. I can handle this. You've been dozing off a lot, it's best for you to rest.”.
“Plus, I've still got a pump of adrenaline in me so I'm not that tired yet. I'm gonna spend all that leftover energy cleaning all of this.” He chuckles, trying to reassure the fatherly figure.
“Oh…if you say so. But don't forget to rest too. Merry Christmas, kiddo! I love you!” Patton exclaims before throwing himself on Roman, giving the other a tight, warm hug. Roman smiles fondly, hugging the other back. Eventually, Patton sinks out and returns to his room.
When Patton left, Roman immediately started his work. He cleaned all of the junk left in the living room, from the torn gift wrappers to the various cookie crumbs lying around. Roman resorted to carrying Remus onto the couch, Remus might not be the physically built one between them but God, was he heavy. 
He continued to clean the living room and even cleaned the kitchen as well, making sure there wasn't any mess left in the morning. After half an hour or so, he was finally done.
He makes a little nest out of pillows and blankets by the fireplace before situating himself in his creation. Even after all that cleaning, he still wasn't tired. And he couldn't think of anything to do. So why not look at fire instead?
Janus stumbles down from the stairs, drunk as fuck. He was planning to get some water but his eyes landed on something by the fireplace. Or more likely, someone.
“My my, what's our beloved prince doing here all by himself?”
Roman suddenly snaps his head back as soon as he hears that all too familiar sultry voice. His eyes narrow at the very presence of his archenemy. Janus was making his way towards him, while almost tripping on his own feet. He clearly was still not sober.
“What do you want, Janus? I'm not exactly in the mood to deal with you right now.” Roman groaned before turning back to the fireplace, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What? Am I not allowed to be in the living room? I just wanna get warm.” Janus huffs before plopping down beside the prince, causing the other's face to scrunch up more in frustration and annoyance. Roman scoots away from him and avoids meeting his gaze. He crosses his arms further, a big pout already forming on his lips. 
There was a big silence between them, and Roman liked it that way. Heck, he even forgot Janus was there beside him in the first place. Out of annoyance and trying to avoid the other, he got distracted by watching the fire slowly move and crackle in an intricately artistic dance. Not until Janus said the most out-of-pocket thing ever which ruined the vibe.
“You know, you could've done other things to warm me up than buy me socks.”
Those. Those were the very words that ruined his perfectly good vibes. Because what the actual fuck!?
“W-what? No!” Roman remarked quickly in sheer embarrassment, his whole face as red as his sash. Now why did Janus have to say that?!
Janus only tilted his head at him, staring at him innocently for a few minutes before letting out a sadistic cackle, making Roman turn red. “I'm just messing with you, Roman.”.
He then stops momentarily, batting his eyelashes at Roman as he bites his lips suggestively. “Unless you want to…”.
Roman's whole face immediately burned up like the fire in the fireplace. For some random reason, the way Janus was saying that in a low and sultry voice while biting his lip was absolutely sending him. Jesus Christ on a stick, it was not the right time to be a gay mess.
“How many bottles of wine have you drunk today?” Roman queries, gently gripping Janus' face as he tries to look for any sign of sobriety.
“Just a bit. Like, three or four bottles. I don't know, I forgot. Silly me.” Janus giggles, looking up at Roman with a drunken gaze, his whole face dusted in pink. Okay, but truth be told, he was quite cute when he was not up to something devious. Not that Roman would admit it.
“Geez, you're so drunk right now. You need to go back to your room and sleep.” Roman clicked his tongue before letting go of Janus, causing the other to slump forward against him.
The deceitful facet whined, clinging close to him. “I'm not drunk! I am very sober as you can see. Iz jus very very cold… hmm, you're warm.” he grumbled lowly, nuzzling close to Roman. The creative prince was having second thoughts if he should push Janus away or let him cuddle with him, he's still not on good terms with Janus after all and the latter was drunk.
“Even while drunk you still have the gall to lie.” Roman scoffs with a roll of his eyes.
“So warm… you are like a walking furnace. Very warm. I like warmth.” Janus babbled, not wanting to let go of Roman. The other could do nothing but grimace, having no choice but to let Janus cling to him like a koala bear.
“Not gonna lie, you're sorta cute when you're drunk. And pretty annoying too.” Roman commented, glancing at Janus for a moment.
“Awww, you think I'm cute AND pretty, Roman? Do you like meeee?”
The creative trait could feel his cheeks heat up at Janus' bold words. He tries to hide his blush by averting his gaze from Janus while his heart begins to ram against his ribcage.
“No way! I-I meant pretty annoying! Nothing else.” Roman exclaims in defense but Janus merely chuckles at him, clearly not convinced with his answer. And of course, Janus doesn't stop taunting him.
“Then why are you blushing?~” Janus teases as he reaches to grab Roman's face, urging the other to look at him. 
“I'm not!”
“You so are.”
Roman let out a frustrated groan and covered his face. Janus was going to be the death of him if he didn't stop teasing him. He wanted to rip out his hair and scream. Roman took back what he said, Janus was not cute when he was drunk, more like annoying.
“By the way, how did you know I'm cold-blooded? I never truly told anyone that.” Janus wonders, seemingly having calmed down from his amusement. Roman glances at him, slightly caught off guard by his question.
Roman thinks for a moment, he didn't think of the possibility that Janus might ask that question. When he got Janus for Secret Santa, his first plan was to give him something shitty like a passive-aggressive letter but he scrapped that because he might seem like too much of an asshole. So he went for something useful. He may or may not have done some research for Janus' gift.
“I just assumed because you're a snake and all,” Roman muttered, still refusing to look at Janus at the fear that the other would tease the crap out of him or if his heart would fully jump out of his chest. “They're not that special, just some pair of yellow socks.”.
“I like them though, they're yellow and keep my feet warm.” Janus hums happily before raising one of his feet up to show off his cool new socks, then wiggles his toes a bit just to fuck with Roman. The princely facet gave him a disgusted look but it quickly melted away into a hearty laugh.
“Didn't expect you'd wear them immediately. Thought you might throw it away because it does not match your ‘Disney Villain’-esque aesthetic.” Roman chuckles softly. Janus smiles at him, a sincere and genuine one at that.
Roman wanted to admit it, but Janus was growing on him. He had never seen this side of him before when he was sober. He was less villainy and scheme-y, although Janus still got that sass and all. Yet it was his first time seeing him smile so genuinely. It was a fresh sight to see.
Their eyes suddenly met for a moment, the both of them could feel a quick spark of electricity as soon as their gaze landed on each other. Roman could only watch as Janus slowly leaned closer toward him, almost climbing on his lap. 
They stare at each other intently, not knowing what will happen. Roman's gaze moved from Janus' eyes down to his lips, then back up, before gulping softly. There was a pregnant pause between them, but it was broken when Janus leaned forward, closing the gap between them.
Sparks fly as their lips collide in a kiss, likening it to a fireworks display. All the background noises seemed to quiet down behind them, only the loud thumps of their passionate hearts that seemed to jump out of their chests could be heard. Roman only stared at Janus in shock as he sat there, frozen. His brain was still processing what was happening. 
But before he could, Janus suddenly pulled away. 
“I love you…” He mutters against Roman's lips before moving away to rest his head on the prince’s shoulder.
Then it finally clicked to Roman. He snapped out of his trance and immediately reached to touch his lips with his fingers, trying to feel the bits of the presence of Janus' kiss as his whole face warmed up. Janus kissed him and confessed to him… Janus…kissed…him
.
.
.
.
.
.
JANUS KISSED HIM!
The realization dawned upon him like being hit with a ten-wheeler truck. Did this mean Janus liked him all this time?! No… no, that can't be the case, right? He was drunk. That cannot be true… right? But it did seem genuine.
He was about to question Janus when he realized the other had already fallen asleep while lying on his shoulder. Really? He just kissed Roman and gave him a dilemma then went to sleep!
Roman let out a groan, mentally slapping himself on the face. He did not want his Christmas to start with him overthinking about this. After a long while, he lets out a long sigh, choosing to accept his reality. Maybe Janus did like him. But does he like him back?
He glances at Janus once more, observing his features. Huh, his scales were interesting up close. They shine like emeralds. A small smile creeps up on Roman's lips while he watches Janus sleep peacefully, he really is stunning.
Janus suddenly shudders in his sleep, clinging more to Roman. The personification of creativity notices this and decides to pull the other closer, basically letting his archenemy cuddle him. Roman looks around for the blankets until he finds one, draping it around him and Janus, hoping that would shield them from the chilly breeze.
Roman then queries softly, “Still cold?”. 
Janus then unconsciously shakes his head as a response while he nuzzles the other. The creative facet chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around Janus to keep him warm.
He continues to observe the other for a few moments, watching as he softly breathes and snore. It was cute. This could be good blackmail material for Janus, but Roman wasn't exactly in the mood. All he wanted to do right now was admire him. Roman then whispers to him, pressing a gentle kiss on Janus’ forehead. 
“I love you too, Janus.”
-----------------------------------
Writing Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @extraintrovertedalien (please tell me if you want to be added or removed in the tag list)
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edupunkn00b · 27 days
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Look what Friday has gifted us!!
youtube
@lost-in-thought-20 ‘s incredible story, as read by @typically-untypical and featuring art by @starshard17
Logan caring for Janus? Logic and calm when Janus is struggling? OML this story!! 💙💛
Can’t wait for a whole month of Lost’s stories on Raven’s channel!!
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prodigal-explorer · 4 months
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my dearest little prince (i)
(roman sanders hurt/comfort, cw for extreme self deprecation and janus dropping truth. features sympathetic janus!)
“My dearest little prince…what’s happened to you?”
Roman’s hollow eyes, darkened from sleep deprivation, were squeezed shut, tears spilling out the sides and down his cheeks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to know. Not even Janus’ tender, lulling voice could pull him out of this panic.
“Baby, come here. Please. Let me help you. Let me hold you.”
Janus’ words were practically hypnotic to the tired, desperate young prince. Roman was so tired of being used, so tired of being an object. All he wanted was to be loved, just like everyone else, but it seemed that no matter what he did, no matter what positions he bent himself into, he could never change himself enough. He was still too Roman. Maybe his actions weren’t the problem, after all. Maybe Roman himself was to blame. Everything about him, after all, was wrong, no matter what he did and how he did it. Roman could feel his mind turn to fuzz, Janus’ words and form growing farther and farther away as he enveloped himself in a meager attempt at self-protection. After all, Roman had long learned that he couldn’t trust anybody else to protect him from anything.
This had to be a trap. It just had to be.
“When was the last time you ate?” Janus whispered, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. The prince flinched back, but Janus persisted, too anxious to be sensitive. “Baby, please. I’m worried about you. You’ve always been so fragile. And lately, it feels like you’ve just been floating away.”
“Yeah?” Roman whispered, his voice seething with hurt. “I wonder why.”
Janus blinked, and tilted his head, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean, darling?” he asked gently.
“Maybe I should float away,” Roman mumbled thickly as his tears started to suffocate him. “You all would like it so much better if I was gone. You play tricks on me to make me shut up or look stupid, you use me for your own agendas without even caring about mine, and then you betray me when all I ever wanted to do was help my friends! I wanted to be a prince, I wanted to be honorable and chivalrous, but- but what’s the point if it always ends with me alone? I’m the least favorite side, Janus. The least favorite. The least amount of fans like me, and the most amount of fans hate me.”
“That’s-…that’s not fair, Roman,” Janus whispered, but Roman interjected before Janus could continue.
“Maybe it is fair,” he snapped, “Someone has to be. Maybe it should be me. After all, I am the evil twin. No matter what I say or do, no matter how hard I try, people only care about the bad stuff I did, and none of the good stuff I’m doing. What’s the point of trying anymore? What’s the point of anything?”
Roman tried to keep ranting, but a whimper cut him off, and as he realized the weight of everything he was saying, he started to sob. He felt like he was being crushed under the weight of the situation. Never in his entire life had the little prince felt so helpless.
Janus took the opportunity to talk. He tried to hide his anger, not towards Roman, but towards everyone and everything that caused Roman to believe such terrible things were actually true. Himself included.
“My precious little one,” Janus murmured, carefully pulling Roman’s limp and trembling limbs into a hug. “You are not evil. Evil people don’t worry about whether or not they’re evil. Evil people don’t cry as you do now. You are so, so good, my darling. And I’m sorry that nobody has told you that. I’m sorry that you’ve felt so alone for so long. You try harder than anybody I know. You are so ready to learn and change that sometimes I worry that you’ll lose yourself one day and never find it again.”
“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Roman muttered to Janus’ chest.
“Of course it would!” Janus scolded gently, starting to rhythmically pet Roman’s curly hair and support his delicate form. “Roman, you are so special. You’re so…beautiful. I’ve never met anybody else who sees the world the way you do, with such wonder. With such color. You sing when no audience is around to applaud you. You speak to things that can’t speak back. You care so much about everything. You care more than anybody I’ve ever met.”
There was silence and stillness in the room for a very long time, not a sound except for occasional sniffling from Roman. And then, the creative side fully launched himself into Janus’ arms, letting his sorrow carry him as he melted into Janus’ secure, but gentle hold, sobbing into his shoulder and letting Janus support his weight, trusting him to keep him upright.
“My baby…my sweet baby,” Janus whispered, “You’ve been hurting for a long time, haven’t you?”
Roman couldn’t speak. He couldn’t act, he couldn’t ask for more than this. For so long, he had been trying to act more mature, so he could be taken more seriously. But it felt so good to just cry, and be a child again, even if just for a moment. Janus seemed to innately know that Roman needed this. Maybe Janus cared more than Roman thought.
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lovelylogans · 1 year
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calling all tss fanfiction readers!
hello, fellow sanders sides fans!
have you ever been curious about the habits of your fellow fanfic readers? got some opinions on favorite ships, aus, or what makes and breaks a fic? leave your comments here!
it's a 40 question survey asking a variety of questions about your fanfiction preferences. i would appreciate it if you took and reblogged this post to increase the sample size!
results will be posted on my blog in one big post; let me know if you'd like to be tagged!
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stormcloud-cos · 2 months
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GOD I LOVE WRITING BC I CAN SUMMARIZE A SCENE AND BE LIKE
Janus is like “hey bro wtf is up? Anyways virgil is hashtag Alive”
“Ok u fucking liar.”
Logan did not know this. Logan now knows this.
FAVORITE FUCKIN SCENE IN THE WHOLE BOOK
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thatonelesbianfander · 2 months
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Currently working on an AU where Janus is a grim reaper and Remus is a spirit that Janus reaped who follows him around because I got bored and wanted to get back into writing fanfic. I’m going to write chapters 1 & 2 and post them and then see where my motivation takes me from there
Edit: Chapters 1&2 are currently out! You can find chapter 1 here and there’s a link on chapter one that will lead you to chapter two
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shsl-fander · 9 months
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Morning Workouts-Prinxiety
Tw: Working Out
Word Count: 762
Pairing: Roman/Virgil
Summary: Virgil catches roman right after a workout for the first time, unprepared for how flustered it makes him.
@spacedouterri
Roman huffed, his breath quickened, rapid gasps for air as he just kept his jog on the treadmill he'd summonded. His legs started to burn, a growing ache in his thighs as he gripped the sides of the treadmill as tight as he could. Sweat dripped down his face, and eventually his running started to slow as his breathing became heavier. His eyes quickly darted towards a nearby clock, he'd been exercising for about an hour and a half so far which seemed pretty good.
Roman panted,clicking the treadmill off before he collasped onto the floor dramatically, knees wobbling underneath him. "Oh my gosh peck, the things I do," he complains, though his dramatic sulking was interupted by his boyfriend walking into the room. Roman could feel the wet drops of sweat dribble from his forehead down the rest of his face, he puffs rubbing his forehead with a nearby towel. He then glances up at the noise of Virgil's entrance, "Oh! Greetings Snow Fright!" he grins, waving towards him.
Virgil stammered, words sticking to tip of his tounge, stuck in between his throat. He cleared his throat, frantically shaking his head trying to remain civil and keep his thoughts focussed, however his gaze couldn't fall from Roman. He couldn't stop staring at his boyfriend, and god he looked hot after a workout. Virgil's breath hitched, palms growing sweaty and blush darkening on his face. "Uh I uh- fuck," he groans, burrying his face into his hands. "Its like 8 am you can't do this to me yet it's too early to be gay."
Roman tilted his head, chuckling softly as he stretched, standing up to properly face Virgil. "I like when you're like this, it's cute," he purrs, wiping more sweat off himself. "And it is NEVER too early to be gay in my book! Plus I have to work out early in the morning if a prince wants to stay strong and healthy!" He argues in defense, flexing his muscles.
"See? Its working!"
Virgil's face just grew even redder, blush rising to the apples of his cheeks and spreading all over his face.  He shoved Roman, "Shut uppp," he whined, "You're purposely making it worse you royal pain in the ass."
Virgil forces a waterbottle into Roman's arms, eyes darting towards the floor.
"Drink this, dumbass. You look exhausted."
Roman flipped the cap off of the bottle, chugging as much as he could in one sip. "Thats because I am exhausted, emo," he comments, "Beauty is pain."
Virgil shook his head, "You're attractive enough with it Ro," he muttered, rolling his eyes. Virgil bit the inside of his cheek, gaze still on the floor.
Roman's eyes grew wide, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "What? Say that again, I didn't quite hear you?"
Virgil groaned, "You know you heard me, princey!"
Roman bat his eyelashes,"Is it so wrong to want to hear my boyfriend declare his undying love for me once again?" He tossed the bottle up into the air mindlessly, catching it in his empty hand. Roman laughed softly, "Whats up anyways, storm cloud? You usually aren't up early enough to see me post work out."
Virgil sighed, shrugging before burrying his hands in his pockets,"Couldn't really fall back asleep and thought you could use some water and food, " he admits,"theres uh- waffles in the kitchen with some orange juice if you want it, but It's not much so you don't have to, " he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, chuckling under his breath.
Roman's eyes widened and his gaze softened, snaking an arm around Virgil before tugging him closer. He pressed a gentle kiss to Virgil's cheek, "mm thank you love," he mumbles, "Thats sweet. You really are going soft on me, emo."
Virgil rolled his eyes, "pfft as if, get a grip princey," he mutters in response, butterflies swirling around his stomach as he felt roman's breath against his face.
Roman slowly cuped Virgil's face, gently rubbing his thumb against Virgil's jaw. He closed the space between them with a tender, slow kiss. Virgil leaned closer, pressing his body against Roman's as his arms found their way to Ronan's hips. Virgil traced circles on Roman's skin, smiling against his lips. The kiss is nothing but light and gentle, as if the two had flopped onto a lovely cloud, blinded from the outside world.
"Cmon," Roman began as he pulled away, watching Virgil blink his eyes open once again. "Lets go get some breakfast."
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