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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 month

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How Romantic

what if a side did get forgotten? they got pushed to the side enough (maybe by the others being in a relationship, maybe by other conflicts) and the mindscape started to remove the "unnecessary" influence – doteddestroyer

Read on Ao3

Warnings: fading/ducking out, but he's fine

Pairings: none, so gen

Word Count: 4777

Romanticism emphasized the individual, the subjective, the irrational, the imaginative, the personal, the spontaneous, the emotional, the visionary, and the transcendental. When Roman is forgotten as a part of Creativity, well, what use does the Imagination have for a prince when it can simply put the Romantic into its work in other ways? Remus has a few things to say about that.

It shouldn’t be all that surprising, really, to think that if a Mind forgets something, it will no longer manifest. Or rather, to not think of it. Or, one could imagine the consequences of not imagining something.

Listen, Roman’s already mostly out the door, he doesn’t have enough cognitive function left to think his way in and out of all the contradictions that arise from the things he says.

The basic principle is this: if a thing is no longer relevant in the Mindscape, which is a consequence of people not thinking about it, then it ceases to exist. The Mindscape doesn’t put the energy into making it a thing. Think of it like a video game. The game only renders the part of the role that the player is currently in, there’s no use for it to render the secret dungeon buried in the third level of the side quest that hardly anyone knows about. It’s more efficient if it doesn’t and in the incredibly slim chance that the player does end up there, then the game can render it and it’ll be fine and it’ll de-load as soon as they leave to go back to the main game.

Got it?

Great.

So, that’s where Roman is right now. In his room, waiting to be de-loaded. He has his Prince costume on, because that’s the version of him that’s going to fade last, his room is all made up in his signature red: red curtains, red comforter, red pillowcases, red notebook laid on his desk. He’s even got his sword out for a final sharpening—no, that’s not a dirty joke, he’s not that Creativity, he’s literally just taking care of the katana—as he waits for the telltale shudder of the Mindscape forgetting something.

He hums absentmindedly to himself as the whetstone sings against the blade. Really, it’s surprising it’s taking this long. Well, not really. Forgetting things is a slow process, it’s not like you can snap your fingers and poof, something’s gone. At the very least, it has to be long enough that something else has taken its place in your mind, and then when you look, you can’t even tell that something was ever missing from it.

Remus has that handled. And Roman will fight anyone who says that’s just because he’s intrusive thoughts, or whatever, no, Remus is memorable all on his own, thank you very much. He’s far cleverer than they all give him credit. And Roman wishes he was half as quick as Remus.

Again, not an innuendo. That’s not his thing, remember?

And Remus isn’t bound by the same creative limits he is! He can run wild—literally, if they let him—and come up with the most incredible things that open up all sorts of new possibilities for what they could do, what they can talk about, what sorts of things they could explore. Isn’t that so much better than just regurgitating the same story idea, over and over and over, doesn’t that get exhausting? How can you imagine something new when all you’re able to do is ricochet around the same blank boring box?

His hand shudders a little as it moves back up the blade. He never liked creative blocks.

And how nice would it be to have a Creativity that wasn’t bound to the fragility of the Ego? How much better, how much easier would it be if you didn’t have to worry about getting bruised and hurt every single time you got feedback on something you made? Making things is hard, you know, it’s vulnerable and terrifying and mortifying especially when you’re showing the end product to someone—and even if you aren’t! Even if it sits on a shelf in your room or a folder on your computer and it never, ever sees the light of day, that’s still scary! You’ve made something, it exists now because of you, and now someone could look at it and see you through it and—and—

Well. You get the idea.

Roman sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He puts the katana away and places the whetstone back in its little box. As he goes to pick it up, it falls through his hands and hits the floor with a low thud.

Ah. So it is starting after all.

He leaves the box on the floor and goes back to the bed. He lies down, not sinking very much at all into his red covers. He folds his hands on his chest and stares up at the ceiling.

It makes sense, after all, that the parts of him the others don’t know about—or have already forgotten about—are going first. The whetstone. They know he has a sword. They probably don’t know how he takes care of it. His bed is red, and he’s the color red, so it’s still here. His room, his prince costume, his desk, all things he needs to be Creativity, or at least half of Creativity, so it will probably go last too.

He lets his head loll to the side, staring at his red notebook. bits of grey begin to enter his vision, the red notebook standing out like a sore thumb. He wonders if any of the things written on its pages would still be there if he looked.

He did love that notebook. It was his friend when no one else would be his friend. It was there for him when it wasn’t okay for him to have someone there for him, when he’d messed up too much to deserve comfort from anyone else, he would go to the notebook. Mainly because the notebook didn’t have a choice.

He’s written a small thing the other day about that, actually. He wonders if it’s still there. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can remember it.

Why don’t you talk to me?; you’re unkind to me; why don’t you talk to me?; I tried and you turned it into a lecture; why don’t you talk to me?; you make fun of me when I try to express how I’m feeling; why don’t you talk to me?; I tried to ask you for help and you turned it into a game of who could mock me the most until I ran away; why don’t you talk to me?; because you were still laughing when I ran away crying; why don’t you talk to me?; because you made me feel guilty for needing help; why don’t you talk to me?; because you made me feel ashamed for wanting support and comfort; why don’t you talk to me?; I don’t want to be in trouble; why don’t you talk to me?; I want to be hurt and upset and have that be okay because I got hurt by something; why don’t you talk to me?; the loneliest time in the world is right before you tell someone else what you did wrong because you know they won’t want to comfort you anymore; why don’t you talk to me?; it’s cold here; why don’t you talk to me?; I just want to be alone now; why don’t you talk to me?; I learned my lesson already; why don’t you talk to me?; what would I have to say?; why don’t you talk to me?; tell me the right words to use so you’ll actually care about me; why don’t you talk to me?; I don’t want to; why don’t you talk to me?; I don’t trust you anymore; why don’t you talk to me?; why would I talk to you?

Ah, that’s it.

His melodrama will probably be the last thing to go too.

He sighs, rubbing his cheek half-heartedly against the pillow in search of some meager comfort. He hasn’t been forgotten enough that the pain that lingers in his chest and hands has gone away, though he’s not sure how. He doesn’t think anyone knows about that—except maybe Remus.

Oh, Remus.

Roman’s chest burns and he gasps, sudden tears coming to the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t want to leave his brother, not after everything they’ve been through, not after all the work they’ve done to get back to the place they’re at now, after all this time, not when they’re finally brothers again. He sniffles, going to wipe his nose and his hands just start to ache. He curls up on the bed, around his pained hands, weeping for himself, for his brother, for Creativity.

Enough of his mind remains to put the pieces together and realize oh, of course. In forgetting everything else, I have been left with the things that I am at my core.

Pain in his chest and hands and an undying love for his brother.

A more complete Creativity might’ve called it Romantic.

***

Thomas sighs. To say that most of these meetings go well would be a lie, but this meeting is not going well.

“Look, all I’m saying is that—“

“Well, that’s your problem right there, you’ve been doing an awful lot of ‘saying’ and not a lot of ‘listening.’”

“Your sass, as delightful as it is, kiddo, is not helpful right now.”

“Oh, really? And here I thought it was the most pivotal thing at the moment.”

“No, it’s not, because it’s taking valuable time from—“

“Sarcasm, Patton. That was sarcasm.”

“And see! That’s another thing—“

“Oh, for the love of Archimedes…”

Yeah. not going well. Thomas pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out what this conversation started with and how exactly they ended up here.

Right, okay.

He’d gotten a text from a friend about a thing they wanted to go do. The problem was, the thing cost money to do and the friend hadn’t said anything about paying for Thomas to come. His finances weren’t awful but it wasn’t like he had the amount of money to just…spare. Logan had suggested they ask and confirm who would be paying the entrance fee, Virgil had worried that it was rude to ask something like that, Janus had proposed a number of ways they could ‘surreptitiously’ ask about it, and Patton had worried about going at all if they were going to be guilt-tripped into it or if the friend had just assumed Thomas would be fine paying for it.

It had…developed from there.

“Look,” Logan says, “there is a very simple way to ask whether or not Thomas is to pay for his own entrance fee. We simply text or call them back and ask.”

“But what if they freak out about it? That’s a weird thing to ask!”

“How is it a weird thing to ask?”

“They might think we’re trying to freeload, or that we’re going to ask them to pay us back, or what if they think that we’re broke?”

“Hey!” Patton puts his hands on his hips. “You are not broken, kiddo, and I won’t stand for you saying that you are!”

“…not what I meant, but thanks, I guess.”

Janus rolls his eyes. “Well, if we’re this stressed out about a simple invitation to something we want to go to anyway, perhaps we should reconsider whether we want to be friends with them at all.”

“Now that’s a bit of an overreaction.”

“Sarcastic! I was being sarcastic!’

Yeah. That’s about where they are now. Out of sheer desperation, if nothing else, he glances over at Remus. Remus’s arms are hanging over the TV, swinging his hands as he grins at the chaos unfolding. He catches Thomas’s gaze and tilts his head in a silent question. Thomas gestures weakly around and Remus shrugs.

“I voted we just go without paying, but apparently that’s illegal or something.”

“Yeah, buddy, that’s…we’re not gonna do that.”

Remus shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“Alright, look,” Thomas says, raising his voice enough to speak over the current argument about—you know what, he’s not even gonna ask— “this isn’t going anywhere. If we’re going to figure out what we are actually going to do, we need to think about this differently.”

“It’s a simple issue, Thomas.”

“And yet, we’ve been talking for close to an hour and we’ve made zero progress.” Thomas rubs his forehead. “Look, where’s Roman?”

There’s a pause.

“Roman?” Patton frowns. "Why would we need Roman?”

“Well, you know, he’s…also Creativty? Maybe he can help us think of something we’re not thinking of?”

“Remus is also Creativity,” Logan says, indicating Remus who gives a cheery little wave. “His suggestions have been…well, we’ve ruled them out.”

“That’s because you guys are no fun.”

“Yeah, but Roman is a different Creativity. Doesn’t it make sense that what he’d come up with would be different.”

Logan adjusts his glasses. “I suppose so.”

“Why didn’t he show up today, does anyone know?”

“Perhaps he is working on another video idea.”

“Maybe he got lost in the Imagination? Happens to me all the time.”

“Maybe he slept in. God knows he harps on about his ‘beauty sleep’ enough.”

“Janus? Remus? What about you two?”

“Why would I bother to keep track of anything Roman does?” Thomas narrows his eyes at him and Janus sighs, rolling his eyes. “No, I don’t know where he is or why he didn’t bother to show up, nor do I much care.”

“Janus!”

“What?”

Patton puts his hands on his hips. “Don’t be so dismissive, how would you like it if someone said that about you?”

”I don’t know, Virgil, how would I like it?”

“Hey, leave me out of this, I don’t have anything to do with whatever the heck this is.”

Thomas just barely suppresses a deep sigh and looks over at Remus. Remus, however, is not relishing in the argument breaking out between the three of them. Instead, he’s staring off into the corner, frowning hard.

“Remus? You okay, buddy?”

“Why can’t I remember the last time I saw Roman?”

Thomas frowns. That manages to get the attention of the others—somehow—and a hush falls over the room as they all think about it.

“Well, it can’t have been that long ago,” Patton says, “we saw him for movie night on the, um…when we watched the…”

”No, it was more recent than that,” Logan says, “he had come down to breakfast to make us those muffins.”

“Right, right, that’s right. When, uh, when was that?”

“Well, it was…”

Logan trails off into silence. Remus looks around at all of them. “Think about it: when was the last time any of us actually saw Roman? Can any of us actually remember?”

Thomas watches with muted horror as all of them slowly shake their heads.

“Fuck.”

“Language, kiddo,” Patton scolds, “anyway, I’m sure this is just a big misunderstanding.”

“That’s right,” Logan says, “after all, it’s hardly the first time Roman has been absent.”

“Yeah, but he normally tells someone where he’s going,” Virgil mutters, “especially if it’s gonna be for a while.”

“Okay, the last time I definitely saw Ro was three weeks ago when we fed Ollie.”

“He helped me put up new cat posters in my room. I think it was…it was before we did that full moon thing, so that was a month ago?”

“He—jeez, I think I passed him in the hallway at, like, stupid o’clock around a week ago, but I was…pretty out of it.”

“We had a brief meeting about the upcoming script last week. That’s the last time I remember seeing him for certain.”

“Don’t look at me,” Thomas protests when all eyes turn in his direction, “I don’t see him outside of these meetings and the last time we had one of those was like, two months ago.”

“Janny? What about you?”

Janus sighs, idly examining one of the seams on the tip of his finger. “I think you’re all being overdramatic.”

“Roman is missing, Janus,” Logan says with a bit of bite to his words, “I don’t think ‘overdramatic’ is an accurate description.”

“Yeah, especially since none of us can remember the last time we saw him.”

“Oh, please,” he sighs, “it’s Roman. Do you really think something so horrible could happen to him that he’d disappear and he wouldn’t tell anyone about it?”

A beat.

“…shit.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Roman.”

”Alright,” Virgil says, getting up, “Thomas, don’t respond yet. They’ll think you’re working or something. Remus, go check the Imagination.”

“On it!”

“Logan, go see if he’s in the library, J, check the Dark Side’s living room.” The two of them nod and sink out. “Pat?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna go to his room and see if he’s in there.”

“Okay.” Patton glances at Thomas. “Can you…can you feel anything?”

Thomas frowns, putting a hand on his chest. He moves it to the other side.

“Are you checking for your pulse or something?”

“No, normally when I think about Roman, like I’m gonna summon him or something, there’s this, like, warmth? It’s like something in my chest that just—it’s hard to explain.” He moves his hand back. “But I can’t…I can’t feel it right now.”

“Oh, that’s probably not good.”

”We should go.”

“Hey, if it ever feels like you can summon him again? Do it, then get the rest of us back.”

Thomas nods, watching as Virgil grabs Patton and they sink out. He sits slowly on the couch, staring into the middle distance as he keeps moving his hand around his chest. It’s strange; he normally doesn’t even have to put a hand to himself to feel where Roman is. He wasn’t lying before, it really is like this warmth that just lives in his chest, like a second heart almost, one that doesn’t really beat so much as just exist there. Like it’s reminding him that he’s, you know, a human with feelings and wants and desires and that’s okay.

Oh, Roman, buddy, where are you?

***

Remus steps into the Imagination and his knees almost buckle immediately.

Bluish-black storm clouds gather and bruise a dark grey sky overlooking a massive craggy cliff rising impossibly high. Vividly green grass and terribly purple flowers bloom deep inside the crevices of the rocks lining the path in front of him, the smell of fresh rain hanging so heavy that it seems it would fall any moment. In the distance he can see evergreens, smell them even though they must be miles away, and another mountain rising behind them with thin, wispy clouds stretching red fingers over its peak. The ground is warm under him, as though he were standing over an active volcano, but he can see and hear and smell the river that flows by just to the side of him, and the breeze that comes from it is cool and damp. His fingers twitch. So does his nose. He takes a deep, deep breath and takes a step forward.

With every step he takes, the more an uncertain feeling takes root at the base of his stomach. it’s too sweet to be panic, too frenzied to be melancholy, and too lonely to be wonder. He keeps walking. The Imagination is always impossibly vivid, impossibly beautiful, but something about this feels…different.

His chest feels tight.

As he moves past a larger collection of boulders, he rounds the corner as he spots a tree. A massive tree, one where the branches curl outwards and upwards like color diffusing into clear water. Some part of Remus—a part that sounds a lot like Logan, if he’s being honest—mutters how a tree like this couldn’t exist, not in these mountains, not with its roots in these rocks. And yet, here it grows all the same. He moves toward it, the tightness in his chest growing with every step.

At the base of the tree lies the hilt of a katana.

“R-Ro?” Remus collapses in front of the tree, shaking hands touching the trunk. The bark flakes away under his fingers and the smallest glimmers of gold shine up. “Roro…oh, Ro, what happened?”

“Remus? Remus!”

“Whoa, what the hell is this place?”

Remus can’t tear his eyes away from the tree long enough to see them but he can hear the others rush up behind him. He just paws weakly at the trunk and Logan’s muffled gasp is all he needs to hear before he starts sobbing.

“Oh, no,” Logan mumbles, “Roman’s…something’s happened to Roman. He’s—Remus, has he Faded? Or is this something else?”

“He’s been Forgotten,” Remus sobs, “the—the Imagination put him back where—where he wasn’t Roman anymore and he’s—he’s—“

Another sob leaves his throat.

“I want my brother back!”

“But we remember him,” Patton says, “we—we do, he’s Roman, we want him back, why—why is he here still?”

“I don’t think he knows we’re here,” Virgil says, glancing around, “I think he’s—I think he’s here sort of, but not in the Roman we know.”

“So what do we do? How do we get him back?”

Remus is still touching the tree. The clouds overhead start to rumble with distant thunder. He presses himself up against it, hugging it tightly.

“Come back, Ro-bro,” he mumbles into the bark, “came back, I want you to come back.”

“Logan? What do we do?”

“There has to be a reason he’s manifesting like this, doesn’t there?” Logan turns around, looking at the mountains, the sky, the river, the rocks, the tree. “Nature, the natural world, he’s become a tree so some kind of growth? Reincarnation? Transcendence?”

“Maybe it has more to do with Roman?” Janus’s against the bark near Remus’s head. “Creativity? Ego? Romance?”

“Romance…Romance…Romance, of course, Roman’s Romance!”

“What about this seems particularly romantic to you?”

“That’s it, it’s not romantic, it’s Romantic. The Romantic movement, the whole—oh, Roman,” Logan says softly, resting his hands on the trunk too, “I’m sorry that you didn’t feel like you could talk to us.”

“How in the hell are you getting all of that from Roman being a tree?”

”The Romantic period was in reaction to the balance and calm of the Classical. Heightened emotion, the irrational, the subjective, all of these became key themes. It was far more important to preserve the spirit and individuality of the artist rather than any sort of adherence to strict rules or traditional procedures.” Logan’s hand runs over the bark. “As well as a focus on the inner struggles of the exceptional figure.”

“And Princey’s the exceptional figure?”

”In a manner of speaking.” Logan presses his other hand to the tree too. “Roman? Are you here?”

A breeze ruffles through the leaves.

“Was that him?” Patton rushes forward and touches the tree. “Roman? Roman, kiddo, are you there?”

Another low boom of distant thunder and it starts to rain.

“Quick, everyone touch the tree.” Everyone puts their hands on it. ‘Roman? Roman, can you feel that? We’re all here, we’re all right here.”

The thunder grows louder. They wait there with bated breath as the tree rustles in the breeze, until Janus, who hadn’t clutched down with the rest of them, hears a crackle from up in the clouds.

“Get back!”

They all fling themselves away just as lightning strikes the tree, the very top of it catching fire as the trunk splits down the middle. Jagged bits of wood just into the open air like fractured ribs. And there, in the center of the splitting trunk—

—is Roman.

“Ro!” Remus howls and dives forward, wrenching his brother’s body out of the tree and dragging him to lie on the flat stone. “Ro, wake up, wake up, you have to be okay, you have to be!”

“…Re?”

Remus sobs again, throwing his arms around Roman who looks up at them with quiet confusion.

“What’s going on?”

“You left,” Janus spits, “you vanished and we didn’t know where you were so we had to come look for you.”

“J,” Virgil says lowly, before crouching down, “you went missing, Roman. We couldn’t find you. Why, uh, why were you in a tree?”

Roman frowns. “I don’t know. I…I was in my room, and you were forgetting me—“

“What do you mean, we were forgetting you?”

Roman blinks. “You were forgetting me. You were going to Remus. Remus is the Creativity that’s helping more. You weren’t thinking about me.”

“That’s not true,” Patton mumbles, horrified, even as Roman gestures around with a wordless if it wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here, “we…we love you, Roman.”

Roman just shrugs. “Maybe.”

“What do you mean, ‘maybe?’” Janus splutters. “That’s not a thing you get to say maybe about, Roman.”

Roman doesn’t even flinch, just turns slightly so he can rest his head against Remus’s.

“You don’t even have anything to say for yourself?”

“Janus,” Logan says sharply, “that’s enough.”

”Roman disappears, he turns into a tree, he says we’re forgetting him and that we don’t love him, and we’re just supposed to accept it?” Janus throws his hands up. “How are you three so calm about this?”

“I’m not calm, but I’m not going to make this about me right now!”

“Janus,” Roman says softly and they instantly fall quiet, “you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know how I became a tree. I didn’t mean to imply you guys had forgotten me entirely. I shouldn’t have said you don’t love me.”

Janus’s eyebrows raise in surprise. He huffs a little awkwardly and folds his arms. “Well. Good.”

”Are…we done now?”

“What? No, Princey, we’re not done, we—“ Virgil runs a hand through his hair— “you turned into a tree. After you vanished. How the hell are we—what do we do now?”

Roman shrugs.

Remus, who has been lying on top of Roman for this whole thing, feels one of the hands under him begin to meld with the stone. He draws back, alarmed, only for Roman’s fingers to come free and lace with his. He squints at Roman’s face, noticing the barely-there tremble of his lip, and whips around to face the other three.

“You three. Fingers. Ears. Song. Now.”

‘What?”

“Do it!”

It takes them a second but they begrudgingly put their fingers in their ears and start mumbling things to avoid listening. Remus glares at them for a moment longer before turning back to Roman.

‘Hey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?”

Roman’s lip trembles again. “They’re still here,” he whispers back, “I just—I just want to hurt.”

‘What do you mean?”

“They’ll be mad at me for whatever’s going on, they’ll—I don’t want them to explain or tell me how what I’m doing is bad, or anything like that. I don’t want their—I don’t want their comfort,” Roman whispers, his voice getting thick, “I just want to be hurt by myself and have that be okay.”

“Of course that’s okay, Ro.”

“Because they did forget me. It’s not your fault or anything but they did and it hurts, Re—“

“I know, I know, shh, shh, hey, hey,” he says, “let’s do this: we need to go tell good old Thomathy that we found you, so let’s you and me go do that and then we can have our own cat pile wherever you want, okay? Just you and me. The others can you suck a tree branch.”

“Won’t they be mad?”

“Tell you what: you go to Thomas right now, I’ll deal with them, and then I’ll come after.”

“…I’m sorry I left again, Re.”

“Pshh. Water under the Kraken.”

***

Thomas shoots up from the couch as Roman rises up in his normal place.

“Roman! You’re okay!” He yes the scratches as bruises from the tree. ‘Well, mostly.”

Roman rubs the back of his head. “Yeah. I’m…sorry.”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay, buddy. As long as you’re okay.”

Roman blinks. “Wait, really?”

‘Yeah, bud. You, uh…it looks like you’ve been through some stuff.”

“…that’s one way to put it.”

“Do you, uh talk about it?”

“Not really.”

‘Okay.”

“Wait, you’re sure?”

‘Yeah. It’s your business. I, uh, I’ll be here if you do want to?”

“Thanks, Thomas.”

“Of course, buddy. You’re great.” Thomas scratches the back of his head too. ‘I know we, uh, haven’t always been the best at saying stuff out loud to each other, that’s normally what the others do, but…you know I’d never replace you for anything, right?”

Roman smiles. He really, truly smiles. And for just a moment, the entire Mindscape fades away, leaving just the two of them standing in this one little room. A man and his Ego, smiling at each other.

The setting sun peeks in through the blinds and the room glows with a rich, bright red.

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#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman angst #roman sanders #roman sanders angst #logan sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit

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glacierruler · 17 days

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Creativitwins angst

I don't normally draw kid sides, so this was fun!

If you like, please reblog!

Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @nebulous-astronaut @uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

If you'd like to be added/removed let me know!

Again, if you like, please reblog!

#glacier's art #glacier's digital art #sanders sides #tss #thomas sanders sides #remus #ts remus #remus sanders #roman #ts roman #roman sanders #remus angst #remus sanders angst #roman angst #roman sanders angst #creativitwins #creativitwins angst

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lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie · 2 months

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Merry Christmas, Janus

Summary: After the gift exchange, Janus returns to the Dark Side of the Mindpalace to relax and reflect. As he picks up his new socks, he finds a second gift from Roman…maybe he really should have laid off of the wine.

Pairings: None, background prinxiety if you squint

Warnings: WINE/ALCOHOL MENTION, NO COMFORT, I GUESS?

(A/N: So I'm posting this really, REALLY late because I had no energy to finish this but I finally do!)

When Logan had invited him and Remus to this year’s gift exchange with the whole Fam-ILY, Janus hadn’t expected things to go the way they did. Yes, he might have downed a few glasses as he refused to show up sober. He didn’t want to have to remember such a warm and soft event. He didn’t to have to hear all the sappy shit coming from those Light side dorks. Especially from Patton. Janus especially did NOT want to deal with Virgil and Roman while he was sober.

Speaking of the prince, Janus finds himself glancing over at the Creative side. Roman was currently curled up on the couch with Virgil, babbling away as he showed the anxious side his twenty-dollar bill with his face on it. Virgil chuckled, lounging against Roman’s side, and saying something Janus could care less about. Though…something twists in Janus’ stomach as he watches the two of them get cozy, Roman wrapping an arm around Virgil who nuzzles him. Gross.

Janus watches them a little longer before turning away. He finishes his remaining wine and makes the mug vanish as he tries to ignore his still throbbing cheek from the bitch-slap earlier. Yeah, he probably deserved it though. The lying side then glances at Roman and Virgil again, glancing away when Virgil suddenly glares at him. Janus doesn’t know when, but Virgil has been acting like the prince’s guard dog and hardly ever leaves his side. Huffing, Janus turns to Remus.

“Remus, get up. We’re going home.” Janus hisses.

Remus looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor with his air-fryer. Somehow, Remus has managed to put several substances and a stick of deodorant in it.

“Already?” he whines. “But I wanna stay! I’m making dinner!”

Janus cringes at the chunky slop in the air-fryer bucket.

“We already had dinner. You can bring that home and play with it all you want there.”

Remus pouts and unplugs his appliance, tucking the bucket back in.

“Boo, you’re no fun, you Scrooge.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be here. It’s getting too sappy for my liking.”

“Fiiine.” Remus then turns to the rest of the room. “Hey, dorks! We’re dipping out. Snakey here is getting grouchy.”

Janus huffs.

“Thanksss, Remusss…” he hisses.

After what felt like an hour of goodbyes, thank yous, and Christmas wishes as well as a good riddance from Roman and Virgil, Janus and Remus finally sank out and returned home. As soon as they popped up into the dark and cold common room, Janus beelined towards his office while Remus scurried off somewhere with the air-fryer. Janus didn’t care and entered his office, locking the door behind him. Usually, this is where he starts chugging a bottle of wine but for once he’s trying to sober up so he can sort out his mind. Maybe he’ll thank Roman for slapping him somewhat awake.

Roman…

Of all the sides…Roman had to be the one to have his name.

Janus sighs and stares at the box on his desk. Despite everything he’d done to the prince, Roman still put in the effort to make his gift look nice. Roman was even thoughtful, giving him a gift he could make use of rather than giving him some fancy trinket. The snake side picks up the box and opens it. Luckily, the bitch-slap-in-a-box was a one-time thing. Setting the lid aside, Janus picks up the mustard yellow socks inside and gazes at them. Sure, they’re just socks and usually they’re not a gift you want to receive on Christmas, but part of Janus couldn’t be upset. Roman gave him an actual gift rather than just leaving him with nothing.

Trying to ignore his heavy thoughts, the deceitful side discards his gloves and runs his fingers over the fabric of the sock. They’re quite soft, much to his surprise. He at least expected it to be some god-awful fabric that would try to rip the scales off of his feet. Janus then picks up the other sock and feels it only to pause when he feels something crinkly in the sock. He winces and prays it’s not another prank from the prince. Bracing himself, Janus reaches in, and his fingertips pluck a folded and now crumpled piece of stationery. Of course. There in black ink and written in cursive is his own name. Oh. Janus then opens the paper, a very long and cursive message waiting inside.

Dear Sna Dec Janus,

I apologize if my gift to you isn’t anything fancy. And I’m not talking about the bitch slap. Sorry for that by the way. I wasn’t going to do it at first but I thought it’d be funny. Honestly, I’m glad I got to see it in person. I really wanted to slap you, but I didn’t want to look like the jerk of all jerks. Again. Now, why am I writing this letter to you? Well…I have a lot to say to you and I don’t think you’d understand if I tried to say it in person. Despite your role, you’d never believe me. You’d probably think I was sucking up to our dear old dad or even Thomas. So, I’m doing it in letter form. Writing always helped me free my mind of the things I don’t want to think about.

I just wanted to know, why do you hate me? Forgive me if you’re still bitter about the hat stealing and the name calling. Everything. To be truly honest, I had no idea what to do. When we were in the courtroom, everything was flipped outside down and all around. They said to trust you and then they said not to. When I tried to follow, they didn’t like it. Like I walked down the wrong path despite them giving me the map. Funny, isn’t it? Trying to do what you thought was right only to hurt yourself and someone else. That’s probably why you hate me.

I suppose I should also apologize for my growing ego. Better it grew rather than let it fall apart and ruin Thomas, right? Then again, what do you care? I’m just a bumbling, arrogant prince who cares for no one but himself. Is that what you wanted to hear?

I also miss you. When we were up on that stage and I had no clue you had taken Patton’s form, I had fun acting on stage and having, well, ‘you’ to direct me. It was fun and you seemed to like drama and theater. I had hoped we could work together again but now I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to tell when you’re acting and when you’re not. It’s a shame, really. After we were formally introduced, I thought we were friends. I wanted to be friends, believe me, but I’m scared. I don’t want you to lie to me again and make me believe you care. For Thomas’ sake I’m willing to be as civil as I can so we can work together but outside of that, I don’t think I’m ready to face you. Maybe in the future, we could talk but not right now. Not until I feel ready.

I suppose I should end this letter now. If you’re still reading this, Janus, then thank you, I guess. Thank you for not trashing this letter. I mean, you can once you’re done reading if you want. You probably still don’t care. I’ll see you around the Mindpalace or something. Take care of Remus for me. He seems to like you more. I really wish we could’ve been friends. I hope you enjoy the rest of your Christmas evening. I mean, you won right? You beat the mighty prince and his massive ego. Congratulations. Merry Christmas, Janus.

Roman

Janus stares at the letter, rereading it once more before putting it down on the desk with shaky hands. He rubs at his face, ignoring the fact that his cheeks were wet now. He leans back in his chair, hanging in his head guilt. God, Roman…what had he done? He just…the prince wanted to be friends…Janus licks his lips, the taste of salt and bitter grapes mixing. He stares at the letter sitting on his desk, regret and something heavy pooling in his gut. Janus hadn’t realized how much he’d hurt the prince has was supposed to protect.

He really should lay off of the wine…

#li talks #sanders sides #sanderessides #ts fanfiction #roman sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders angst

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monkeythefander · 7 months

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Sanders Sides Angst Headcannons

@thatsthat24

CW: Angst headcannons for each of the sides

———————————————————————

• After Janus’ fake compliments in the courtroom, Roman has a hard time believing compliments from Thomas and the other sides.

• Back when Virgil still lived with the Dark Sides, Janus would make a cake for Virgil’s birthday every year that the two of them and the other Dark Sides could share. After Virgil left, Janus continued the tradition of baking a cake. However since Virgil’s gone Janus takes the cake to the anxious side’s old room and eats some of it by himself, leaving a bit in the room in case Virgil ever decides to come back.

• Remus has a sketch book full of drawings he and Roman made together before the mindscape became divided. Whenever Remus misses his brother he’ll look at the drawings.

• Since nobody likes to listen to him, Logan has a journal he writes all his thoughts in. The journal started off as a professional log of his days, but it’s slowly become more of diary since it’s basically his only companion.

• Patton has a closet full of boxes tissue boxes in his room because he lets out all the sad emotions he suppresses through tears when he’s alone.

A/N: I just wanted to note that if you like any of my headcannons and want to write a fanfic or make a drawing based on it you can do so as long as you credit me and tag me in the post so I can see it.

-Monkey💜

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tss-whumper · 4 months

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as a roman kinnie i am now legally obligated to write an obscene amount of angst detailing roman spending christmas holding back tears as he is either insulted, ignored, guilt-tripped, or misunderstood for the entire holiday.

and as the pressure builds, he bursts into tears under the tree, too hysterical to explain what got him so upset.

but instead of sympathy, what happens?

looking away

eyes rolling

annoyed scoffs

nervous laughter

“thanks a lot for killing the vibe.”

“that’s one way to ruin christmas.”

it is on the most anticipated holiday of the entire year that roman has never felt less loved.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #roman sanders #sanders sides fandom #sanders sides headcanons #roman sanders angst

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aredlemon · 6 months

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A Part. Ao3

Summary:

Sure, it was only obvious that the breakup would hurt Patton. But did no one think about love itself?

The others forget Roman is literally love but his bro comforts him

Notes:

First fic! Pardon me if it isn’t up to par but I wanted to get something for you out. (Also some shit happens in my real life, oh and procrastination)

Cw: oblivious/ignorant sides, slight Patton bashing, descriptions of someone looking sick, Remus comforting his bro, Roman has self deprecating thoughts.

Pairings: none!

~~~

It had been only about a week since the breakup. Not that it mattered, the others were still furious. Rightly so. It was all his fault!

The window was open, a slight drift moving the curtains. The sun was setting, casting the room in a low, orange light. The floor was littered with tissues, an overflowing trash can not too far from them.

Roman lay on the bed staring up. His prince costume had long been discarded. His skin was pale, rosy cheeks stained with tears only accentuating that. His hair was disheveled, it looked to be less saturated than before.

“Why must you ruin everything…”

A chocked sob escaped Roman. His voice was barely above a whisper, throat aching after what must have been hours of crying. He let out a shaky breath before continuing his soliloquy.

“If only you had just…Done you *job*…”

Roman turned to his nightstand. There lay a letter. A love letter. Funny wasn’t it? How the one to call Thomas all those names was the same person who called him ‘love’. It didn’t matter anymore. Roman had failed at his sole purpose. Keeping Thomas happy.

———

Remus paced around his room. Not out of anxiety or worry. Janus had prohibited him from entering the living room after he brought in a second dead body. It wasn’t his fault the first one needed a friend!

“Wonder how he’s holding up…” he thought out loud.

Remus seemed to have been the only one to notice Roman’s sudden absence. He was his brother after all, plus Roman was his favourite person to annoy! The others seemed to be too preoccupied with Patton…That bastard. ‘Oh look at me so sad! I am feelings!’ Well, Roman was passion, love for fucks’s sake! It made Remus feel weird…He didn’t like Roman…but they were still brothers.

“That’s it” and with that, Remus quickly vanished from his room.

———

It was deafeningly silent. A tear made its way down Roman’s cheek. He didn’t even bother wiping it away this time, much too tired to move. He looked sick. White hairs had started appearing on his head, all colour having been drained from his eyes. There was no point in trying.

‘At least I won’t burden them anymore’, ‘It’s better like this’, ‘I deserve this’, thoughts like these were floating in Roman’s brain. His eyes slowly closed.

“I’m so fucking sorry Thomas.”

———

Few moments passed before Remus rose up. Morning star in hand, ready to cause trouble.

“Oh Ro-Bro~ Are yo-“ Remus was cut short.

The sight of his brother made his stomach churn, something not many things were able to achieve. No, that wasn’t his brother. His brother was lively, loud, happy…this…

A loud thud was heard as the morning star fell from his hands. Rushing to his brother he sighed in relief when the faint heartbeat and slight coldness of Roman’s breath against his hand alerted Remus he was still alive. He withdrew and placed a hand on Roman’s shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“Ro-Bro, get up.” Remus’ worries came back, since Roman didn’t seem to wake.

“Come on now,” he growled, “get up you fucker!” He shook him more violently, worry slipping into his voice despite his efforts to remain calm.

Why was he even so worried? Roman was still alive after all, and he probably would wake up…oh for the love of fuck! Remus allowed tears to spill from his eyes, voice coming out in a sob as he begged Ro to wake up.

———

Roman’s eyes slowly fluttered open. It must have been morning, perhaps early mid day? Whatever, it’s not like he really cared. His eyes took a bit to adjust to the light invading the room through the curtains. He felt light, almost as if he were floating. Was this a dream?

“Hmmmgg…Ro?” A voice startled him.

Turning his head ever so slightly he was met with Remus’ gaze staring down at him. It seemed as though he had just woken up, still rubbing his eyes. Dark circles framing them, still damp from tears cheeks accompanying them. He looked so…exhausted? Roman had never seen Remus like that, let alone crying. Roman looked at him, trying to ask what was wrong but his voice betrayed him. What came out was a slight whine, barely audible.

“Oh you fucker.” Remus dipped down and hugged him.

Resting his head in the space besides Roman’s head he wrapped his hands around the prince. He felt so relieved. Roman was ok. He quickly pulled back after a groan from his twin’s lips reminded him that he was crushing him. Sitting besides him, he helped Roman sit up on the bed, making sure not to move him too quickly.

Roman felt dizzy, as if his brain was melting in his head.

“What ‘re you doin’ here…?” He slurred out.

Remus stammered, bewildered. Was he really being serious? “You’re kidding right? Roman, you haven’t come out of your room in a week, I come in and find you barely alive, and you ask me why I am here!?”

He didn’t intend on sounding angry, let alone upset, but it happened to come out that way. But was he at fault? Roman was acting like such an idiot.

Roman jolted back a bit. He looked scared. Upset. Worst of all he looked sorry. Ready to break and start apologising, saying sorry for making Remus worry, sorry for being a burden, sorry for being a failure.

Tears spilled from his eyes. They had gained back some of their colour, same with his skin and hair, but he still looked sickly. He tried to speak, but all he could muster up was a faint “s-sorry”.

No, Remus must have misheard right? He all but lunged forward and embraced Roman.

“No. Stop. Just…it’s ok, I’m here” he said as Roman started to sob into his shoulder.

“Sorry for *hic* making you…w-worry” Roman’s words came out barely audible.

“Don’t be. You did nothing wrong, hear me? Nothing.”

Remus patted his twin’s back, humming softly to soothe him. Oh dear….He didn’t like seeing his brother like this. He missed the brave, annoying, over the top Roman. As he made a mental note to give the others a piece of his mind Roman spoke up, finally having calmed down a bit.

“You’re…not mad?”

‘Might as well have driven a dagger straight through my heart’ Remus thought. “No I’m not. Just…I’m sorry, I should have noticed sooner.”

Before Roman could protest Remus continued.

“Just, listen, you’re not a failure, a screw up, whatever. Thomas will find someone new. Shit happens ok? Just cause it’s a part of your job to be love doesn’t mean anything. That’s only a part of you. A part of the amazing Roman.” Remus chuckled. “The, very sadly, lesser of the twins~”

Roman chuckled and pushed Remus off of him.

“Fucker” he said while smiling. ‘Well, what did I expect?’ Roman thought. Remus was his brother after all, and as much as he wanted he couldn’t stay mad.

Plus, the teasing was a part of him, right?

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed! Again this is my first one so sorry for the bad writing. Also for the fact that it’s short, wanted to get it out this week.

-ARedLemon :)

#sanders sides #fanfic #ao3 #roman sanders #angst #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #unsympathetic sides #unsympathetic patton #(had to add it)#my fic #my writing #first fic #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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transformationloveb · 1 year

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Ranting About Sanders Sides Again Because I Can

The fact that Roman and Virgil are currently the two sides with the most stable relationship out of the whole cast right now is just, so sweet to me.

Technically you could make a case for Janus and Remus's relationship or Janus and Patton's relationship, but Janus and Remus haven't actually interacted in a canon episode just yet, and Janus and Patton's relationship is just really getting started, so I'm not counting either of those just yet.

Now, Roman and Virgil. We know them, we love them, and I think all of us know that their relationship initially started off pretty rocky. For pretty much all of Season 1 they didn't exactly get along at all. But since then, they've gotten to the point where they're genuinely really good friends, (I'd personally even call them best friends!) and they've still got their usual banter, but at this point it's become their thing. They're not really Roman and Virgil without it!

The fact that Roman's become so much more closed off towards everyone else, but is still happily bantering with Virgil really just goes to show how much he trusts him. And it makes sense! Virgil's proven to him that he actually cares about him (see FWSA for reference) and in turn that's caused Roman to become much more comfortable around him! I mean, just look at how Roman talks about him in the 5th Anniversary Episode compared to when he's talking about the others!!

"patton"

"logan"

"virgil"

See the difference? I certainly do!

Whether you consider their relationship to be currently the most stable in the series right now or not, you have to admit that Roman's relationship with Virgil is most definitely his own most stable one out of everyone right now. Including Thomas!

Honestly, if we don't get to see Roman and Virgil being freaking best friends in the season finale, you will not hear the end of it from me. There will be many a grumpy rant coming from my end.

I'm very excited to see how their relationship develops from here, both with how they're gonna be responding to Janus's acceptance, and with their interactions with just each other on their own. It'll be nice! And I'm very excited to see how it all plays out! :)

Also the Sanders Sides season finale cannot come soon enough, I am absolutely craving more content and I cannot wait to see what happens next.

Alright! That's all from me for now! See you all again soon!! 👋

#if we don't get roman's issues being addressed and roman and virgil being besties in the season finale i will riot #also i cannot wait to get more Roman angst in the upcoming episodes #it's gonna be great #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #prinxiety #sanders sides rant #rambles from yours truly #sanders sides season finale #ts prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #sanders sides analysis

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a-rat-called-remus · 6 months

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Series Idea: It focusses on the events of the split.

Except the creativity twins (Remus and Roman) have no recollection of it, they have no memory of who they once were.Everyone made sure the twins wouldn't figure out the truth about the traumatic events that occurred that day.

No matter how much effort they put into hiding it, the truth begins to unravel as both twins start to have night terrors so vivid and surreal

they can't help but think that those nightmares aren't just nightmares but bits and pieces of something they weren't meant to remember

#remus sanders #roman sanders #creativity twins #sanders sides fanfiction #headcanon #remus sanders angst #roman sanders angst

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roseianxiety · 2 years

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Hi everyone I'm back with my bullshit, here, have some angst!! And please do reblog, I worked very hard on this.

(Click Image for better quality)

[Reblogs > Kudos]

(version w/out the mirror cracks ↓↓)

I love seeing him suffer 😊😊

#sanders sides #roman sanders #sanders sides fanart #roman sanders fanart #tss roman #tss fanart #roman sanders angst #vee draws #ross draws fanarts #pls reblog 🙏#i worked so hard for this

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samders-sides · 6 months

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The Hunt for Prince Roman - Chapter One

Summary: Roman has been in the Imagination for two weeks straight and Virgil has grown concerned. What starts as a welfare check on the wayward Prince turns into a full on quest to find him because things…are not adding up.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51469459/chapters/130071607

Note: Hi! I am back again. I have two WIPs on here but this walked into my mind and I spent the weekend writing pretty much all of it… Will be updating twice a week until it is all posted on Thursdays and Sundays. Also I'm not great at titles. If anyone has any ideas I would be happy to hear them!

Chapter One: The Begining

It had been two weeks.

Virgil shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders, shifting his satchel strap to a more comfortable position on his shoulder and moodily glaring at the scene. There were many places that he liked to while away his spare time. Cuddled up into the smallest ball imaginable in the soft armchair in the living room with his headphones on; sitting on the benchtop while he supervised Patton baking in the kitchen (ready to jump in at any notice with a fire extinguisher, should one be needed); sinking into a warm bubble bath…

Virgil smiled at the last thought. For his birthday, one of the gifts he had received was his own bespoke brand of bubble mixture, which, when mixed with water, created large sparkly purple and black bubbles. Blackberry and lavender scents soothed his nerves, and he swore that the bath water would remain the exact right temperature, no matter how long he soaked his troubles away. Roman had really outdone himself on that one.

Roman. Virgil’s frown returned to his face. The reason that he was here, in the imagination, instead of literally any other place that Virgil would care to be. His skin crawled.

Roman had been acting strangely since…well Virgil couldn’t quite pinpoint it exactly. He had been so focused on the threat of Janus, Remus and the Others, and the stresses of a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic that he hadn’t paid enough attention to the three knuckleheads in the light. Recent events sure had blown his failure on that point wide open.

The wedding was a big one, that had felt like an atomic bomb going off in the mindscape. In the space of a day everything had turned upside down. New friendships. New rules. New high score in Candy Crush…one big gaping hole in the fabric of his close-knit family. And maybe the hole itself wasn’t new but it sure as hell wasn’t anything like what it is now. Virgil could name a handful of days that were so significant in their lives to have had as big of a fallout as that one.

But pinning it all on just one (freaking terrible no good) day, was just one more mistake Virgil had to chalk up on his list.

Virgil shook his head and started walking. He was here for a reason.

Two weeks.

Two weeks with no Princey.

Lengthy absences weren’t necessarily unheard of, or even rare – especially when they were between major projects or Princey was working on something big. He was still functioning, Thomas still had his fanciful thoughts, reckless romantic urges, his ego, and his creative spark. They could all feel Roman’s presence in the mindscape, like he had sprinkled glitter over everything. Patton still set the dinner table for four. There was a growing pile of books outside of Princey’s bedroom door that Logan had come across and thought would be of interest to the creative side. Virgil still peeked into his room on his nightly rounds of the mindscape. Usually, the Prince would send some sort of message to them by now though.

“He’s probably just busy defeating some illogical amalgamation of fictional and non-fictional creatures and has lost track of time,” Logan had said, his voice clipped as he turned the page of his book, not even looking up at Virgil. Logan had said something further under his breath about the creative sides’ appreciation for time and schedules, but Virgil had chosen to ignore it. Instead, Virgil’s eyes had flicked to the four empty coffee mugs on the table, and the glass of red wine in the logical sides free hand, then to the clock on the wall which read 11:46 am. A feeling that Virgil could not quite place welled up within him.

“Yeah kiddo, Roman just needs some space at the moment, I’m sure there is no need to worry.” Virgil turned to look at the other side in the living room, Patton. Virgil had a retort ready to snap back about how could you claim to know anything for certain especially about Princey, but it died in his throat as he took in the newest addition to the father figure’s ensemble – a clumsily made yellow friendship bracelet. Virgil knew what feeling had been welling up inside himself that time.

Virgil blinked himself back to the present, not for the first time since the scene from earlier had occurred. One at a time. He had to sort out these buffoons one at a time before they destroyed themselves and Thomas. Something in his heart of hearts told him that Roman had to be top of his list.

He had appeared on a hill in Roman’s side of the imagination and had immediately breathed a sigh of relief. The weight in his gut lessened just a fraction.

The grass was an impossibly perfect shade of green, and the beautiful baby blue sky held no clouds. There were forests to the right and left of him, an expansive ocean behind him, and towns littering the path up to a magnificent Disney castle ahead of him. Cartoonishly cute birds and animals filled the scenes, and the ambiance could only be described as magical.

This hill had become a favourite spot of Virgil’s, on his journeys here. A large cherry blossom tree grew at the crest, with brilliant gardens radiating out around it in ever growing circles, paths weaving their way through the beds. Gardens weren’t entirely strictly his vibe, but Roman had created this one just for him. The flowers were all different shades of purple (with a few tasteful black roses dotted about here and there) and Roman had fashioned a bench underneath the cherry blossom tree, which was always in bloom. It was a peaceful place at a strategic vantage point so no one could sneak up on him while he was there. It was perfect.

Virgil had wavered here for a few moments, his eyes staring at the table in front of the bench which was set up with a Battleships board.

Roman and Virgil had tried chess, but admittedly Roman had struggled with the rules. The Game of Life had stressed Virgil out with the inevitability of death and taxes. Neither of them would ever emotionally recover from that Monopoly game…

Battleships was as much skill as luck. It had been the perfect medium to bridge the gap after Virgil had been accepted.

At least the imagination seemed to be in good nick. In ways that Virgil had yet to understand (and that Logan would kill to know), the imagination was inextricably linked to the Creative sides and their emotions. For the first time, Virgil started to doubt himself and his mission. If the imagination was this picture perfect, maybe the wayward Prince was fine. Maybe Patton was right…

And it was that thought that hardened Virgil’s resolve to continue, as he steadfastly made his way along the cobblestoned road to the first small town.

Since the wedding, and especially since the mall, Virgil had been spending a lot more time with Roman than he ever had before – including in the imagination. It wasn’t entirely his cup of tea but Roman had kept things low-key for him.

The imagination was always in flux, but there were a few constants. “Video game logic” is what Roman had dubbed it. The first golden rule – walk to a location and find a person to ask a question of. A tavern or a brightly coloured shop were your best bets to find such a person. Virgil’s gut said that he would find the Prince at the castle, but the imagination had spat him out onto that hill for a reason. Virgil had long since learned to trust Roman’s guiding hand when it came to the imagination.

And so, Virgil walked into the quaint town of Brightstar.

Roman had eagerly walked him through Brightstar before, and it was a favourite setting of Virgils’. The small French village had a beautiful fountain marking the centre of town, with cobbled streets reaching out from the fountain like a star. The houses had thatched roofs and were built with stone. It was very Beauty and the Beast.

Which is why Virgil frowned when his feet left cobblestone and hit a tar sealed road.

Brightstar was a hive of activity – which was not unusual. What was unusual was the kind of activity. People in high-vis-vests scrambled about in teams. One team hauled a massive machine down the cobbled streets, covering them in tar. Virgil wrinkled his nose at the smell. Another team were pulling up streetlamps and connecting them to electricity. The crew clapped as the first bulb flickered to life.

Virgil broke off into a run, his anxiety flickering to life. There were only a few streets in between him and the town centre and he didn’t stop until the water fountain came into view, blessedly untouched. Virgil slouched and clutched a stitch in his side, cursing Thomas for not going to the gym more often. The city centre had already been paved and electrified, but the local vendors and citizens seemed unbothered. Virgil took a seat on the fountain and dipped his hand into the cool water, forcing his breathing to come right and his heart rate to chill out.

Everything is okay.

Once again, Virgil chided himself. It was silly getting himself into a panic over nothing. Roman decided to update and change his realm almost on the daily, why was he so panicked over him deciding to update the facilities in Brightstar? Virgil tried not to feel too disappointed. It’s not like he was invested in the old school cobble streets at all…though they were far more his aesthetic than modern paving systems. Didn’t Logan once say that the old Ancient Roman roads were far better quality than anything we could construct now? Virgil looked up from his spot at the fountain and saw that another team of workers were replacing a thatched roof with tiles.

“Howdy stranger.”

Virgil just about fell backwards into the fountain, only just managing to catch himself in time. One of the workers had come over to him while he was contemplating the meaning of change. Virgil hurriedly stood up and tried not to look like he had just let out a screech that a banshee would be jealous of.

“Urgh, hi there.” Virgil grunted, shoving his hands into the safety of his pockets. The worker was clearly of elvish origin if his pointy ears were anything to go by. He had an orange hard hat on his head, green eyes, and a kind smile. He clutched a clipboard against his portly stomach and rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Sorry there friend, didn’t mean to startle you.” The man gave a reassuring smile. “The name is Bertram.”

Virgil sighed.

“No problem, er, Bertram.” Virgil cast his eyes about nervously. This was it; he was sure of it. He had found a person, now, to get the right question. “What’s going on here?”

“New orders from the big guy in charge, massive infrastructure upgrades realm wide and we have a week to do it! Management, eh? In truth, I liked the old look, but not complaining here. It makes sense to move away from combustible materials like thatched roofs. Never know when a dragon will take a special interest in our little old town eh?" Bertram laughed as if he hadn’t just made a joke about a dragon burning his home down. Virgil doubted he would ever understand the folk in the imagination.

“Management…yeah.” Virgil swallowed. He didn’t know why he was so anxious talking to a person that literally did not exist. “So, the Prince has done this? Is he around?”

“Where have you been?” Bertram laughed again. “We don’t have a Prince anymore.”

Virgil’s blood ran cold.

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