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#deceit angst
radar-chaos · 2 months
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confused-wanderer · 5 months
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Screaming because I’m rewatching Sanders sides and in the episode “Growing Up” where everyone ignores and belittles Patton, Roman quite literally tells him: “Perhaps it’s best you just sit in to knowing the difference between right and wrong, and leaving the rest upto us.”
I am SCREAMING
Because in Selfishness versus Selflessness and the whole fucking mess that that was, from the beginning Patton is already torn becuase he knows what Thomas wants even if he doesn’t want to admit it to himself. He’s telling Thomas he should go to the wedding even though both of them know what he really should do.
Patton literally goes against himself to help Thomas, because it was more important that Thomas doesn’t fall apart than his own voice screaming at him with every fibre of his body that this was wrong. That’s why he was so off at the trial, and barely had any heart into what he wanted to say. He was doing it out of obligation.
So he does what Roman told him in the earlier episodes, and they’re in a court setting! Where rights and wrongs are the only things discussed! So he’s going against himself, he’s trying to only stick to rights and wrongs to help everyone out, hoping if he did a good job everything would work out and only realises at the end that everything still went so fucking wrong and he was the cause of it even if he was trying to make everyone happy.
Plus his repression and self-hatred only fulled after the Intrusive Thoughts episodes - Patton is bearing the most burden on himself because of everything, arguably as much if not more than Roman.
Someone please give him a hug and two cookies🍪🍪
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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.
General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl
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izzydaninja · 18 days
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*No Stealing!* Thank you!
[...Can I just say... THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME I DREW THE EGG-SHAPED DOCTOR! AHH!]
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logan-the-artist · 5 months
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B2 with Janus and V? Mayhaps V can be purple? Hope this isn’t to much of a bother!
it’s not a bother at all!! :]
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im loving the angst.
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will-die-for-janus · 20 days
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Not exactly related to the episode but I’ve been thinking about this and I need to share it with someone.
What if Janus was scared of the Orange side? Like what if he was doing his best to hide O from Thomas not because of personal motives but because Janus fears O’s power and is trying to protect Thomas? If that’s the case, what kind of powerhouse would O be to be worthy of even Janus fearing him? Logan is the last roadblock between O and Thomas. Once he breaks down (and he’s clearly very close to it), then O comes into his full power.
This is barely a theory this is just an excuse to see angsty Janus. I like watching calm and collected characters have a breakdown. I wanna read this fic so bad
Ok I love theories it’s like my favourite thing (still emotionally devastated over matpat I can’t handle change lmao)
Entertaining this idea, Janus is the representation of Thomas’ self-preservation, he had been allowed to lie to T about HIS OWN existence. The only other dark side we know is Remus and in his introduction he mentioned Janus allowing him present himself to T as he was accepting the darker sides to himself. Yet we have seen only the vaguest of hints about this Orange side, event after J has been accepted by Thomas and Patton. This means the orange side would either disrupts the tentative peace they’ve built so far OR Janus has reasons (self-preserving) for not allowing the introduction of O.
Another thing we have to keep in mind is Logan, most people have determined Logan is either the orange side, linked with the orange side, or is acting as some sort of barrier between O and Thomas. I am leaning more towards Logan might develop into the Orange side, mostly because the rainbow doesn’t have 2 blue colours 🌈. Yet Lo taking one for the team and maybe having the orange side try to come out or influence him but not allowing it to happen just to protect everyone else, this includes not showing/feeling any emotions (especially the ones that come more naturally to him like anger), it’s very heroic and something I wouldn’t mind.
Angsty any side is definitely my shit (only if there is a happy ending cuz i’m a damn baby) This fic concept is definitely something i’m intrigued by, if I end up using it as a writing exercise on my fic account i’ll give you all the credit!!
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samix-asb · 3 months
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for ppl who follow me for my mp100 stuff this might be confusing but I'm on a sanders sides re-watch brain fog and all I can think about is that short period of time in the fandom before Janus name was Janus, where everyday the 'sympathetic deceit sanders' tag was updated and people came with the most creative mind boggling jaw opening happiness inducing works daily like early 2020 was THE moment for the deceit fans
because, picture this character right? he's supposed to be a physical representation of lies, yet all we know of him is that he believes selfishness is good in certain scenarios, to the point they impersonate another side of the personality they help form jsut to get his point across, people went crazy, where did he come from? why is he only appearing now? and the theories with Virgil and thke dark sides? I miss people reading actual papers to understand how to interpret Janus because honestly he was far more interesting when people decided that a big part of the Ethos lied on the liar and that Thomas self preservation needed him as much if not more than Virgil
like can we have more of that plz the current plot only made Janus into a lowkey alcoholic sassy twink I can't/hj
blud is getting nostalgic over an ex vine star internet show? shhhhh
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aidensm8 · 1 year
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I would like chibi Janus and Virgil bonding please
:3
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Sure, they can bond in Angst
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part-time-zombie · 5 months
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If there's one thing these two can agree on, it's that the last thing they want is Deceit becoming a dishonest trick to easy success, and that achieving Thomas's goals in this way would feel too disingenuous for them to accept any happiness from it
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meowthefluffy · 2 years
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After a very long wait I present to you,
Part 58 of the lust Roman saga! (more comic pages under cut it just made the post way too long)
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I’m really really proud of this update and I’m excited to hear your thoughts! It’s the best one over ever made and I’m really proud of much I’ve improved in such a short time! let me know if you have any questions !
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lil-toastie-boi · 7 months
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"Pink camellia flowers are known to express longing."
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radar-chaos · 2 months
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Sleeping but don't you remember? You follow the shepherd.
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Burned Bridges
Summary: Virgil runs into a wasted Janus at a party that his best friend, Roman, is throwing on Halloween night. A locked door forces them to confront their heavy past.
Ships: past analogical, present prinxiety
CW/TW: Alcohol, smoking, homophobia and bullying, Human!Virgil, Human!Remus (mentioned), Human!Roman, Human!Remy (mentioned), Human!Janus, Human!Logan (mentioned), unsympathetic Virgil, unsympathetic Janus, sympathetic Roman
It was October 31st and instead of binge watching horror movies by himself in the dark of his room, Virgil found himself standing in the corner of his childhood bestfriends house, early 2000’s pop music blasting in the background. He hadn’t dressed up and hundreds of people were bobbing up and down in a sea of red plastic cups, costumes, and glow stick bracelets, screaming the lyrics that came out of the speakers Roman had bought. He’d forced Virgil to go with him to buy them after begging him to come to the party because, in his words, “you never get out of the house, it’ll be fun! Especially if you meet a cute guy”
Virgil laughed after he said this, only responded with “yeah, whatever you say, Roman.”
Tequila suffocated anything that represented a pleasant smell out of the room. He was holding a drink himself, taking sips of it occasionally; not because it tasted good—at all—but because he had a hunch he wouldn’t want to remember the events of tonight.
His throat burned. He knew he wasn’t supposed to sip Tequila, normally he chugged it, but he liked the distraction of the pain and the warmth that filled him after every taste.
He desperately looked around for a familiar face. Last he saw Roman was when the party had started four hours earlier. It was now 2 AM and he had done nothing but drink, take shots with Remus and a few of his friends, be forced to dance by Remy, and stand in the corner waiting for it all to be over.
He chugged the rest of his drink and stood there for a moment, sinking in the environment around him, ultimately deciding to hide in the bathroom until the party was over. He took a few shaky steps into the crowd of people, shoving past drunks and the occasional stoner. He never really understood why Roman hung out with these kind of people, he honestly doubted that he knew most of the people in his house anyway.
He found his way to the bathroom and shoved it open, quickly closing and locking it, sitting on the cold tile floor.
In his rush, he hadn’t noticed Janus, wearing a Harry Potter costume, who was also sitting on the floor.
“Fuck, Sorry I didn’t know you were—“
Janus cuts him off “Vrrrrrrgggllll” he laughs, the name on his tongue slurring together.
“Look I didn’t know you were in here, I’ll just leave.” He states bluntly, getting up to open the door, wishing he still had his drink, he really didn’t want to remember this. He tried to force down his unresolved anger but it came out sharp in his voice.
“Vir-gil,” Janus hiccups “can I tell youuuu a secret?”
Virgil tries to unlock the door but it’s jammed, no matter how hard he pulls or twists the knob, it won’t budge. He sinks back down to the floor, annoyed. “Whatever Janus, sure” he says
“I think you’re still angry at me” he blurts out, giggling a bit, eyes drooping.
“Yeah, I am. You fucked me over, really bad. Who wouldn’t be.” he spits. He had his knees to his chest, his back to the door, trying to stay as far away from Janus as he could.
Janus struggled to stand up, grabbing onto the shower curtain and slipping, falling back down, pulling the curtain and rod down with him. Janus just giggled. “Oops.” was all he said.
Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell, Janus. Can you stop being a nuisance for two minutes?” He screams.
Janus looks at him for a moment before registering what he said, mumbling a “sorry”
With anyone else, Virgil would’ve felt sorry for yelling, but Janus was the exception. He deserved it, worse than that even.
“You ruined the one good thing I had and you expect me to feel fucking sorry for you?” He snaps.
“I-“ Janus hiccups “I didn’t mean to” the light and carelessness in his eyes from earlier, gone. Now replaced with only a hint of it behind dull pupils.
“Yeah?, well you did. You think ganging up on me and Logan didn’t fucking ruin our relationship? You think the constant harassment inside and outside of Uni wasn’t fucking enough for me to have atleast a little bit of anger towards you?” he was practically screeching but he didn’t care, the music would cover it anyway.
Janus was staring at him, almost emotionless apart from the look in his eyes, which were starting to water.
Virgil got up to try the door again when Roman suddenly opened it, looking from Virgil to Janus and then Virgil again. He gave him a “what the actual hell is going on????” look and Virgil just shook his head, shoved past Roman and into the crowd.
Roman stared at Janus for a minute, taking notice of the curtain and curtain rod astray on the floor. He didn’t say anything, just closed the door and ran after Virgil.
———————————————————————
After a few minutes of searching inside, he found Virgil in his front yard, sitting on the stairs, smoking a cigarette.
He sat down next to him and a thick silence hung between them. Virgil blew out smoke into the cold air before clearing his throat. “He was acting like we were best friends again, can you believe it?” He laughed in exasperation.
Roman could believe it, Janus had always been an asshole in College and even before that, that was kinda his thing, which was why he was surprised when Virgil had suddenly decided to become friends with him one day.
“He’s so funny dude, like literally one of the best people I’ve ever met” he had said
Roman had just smiled and laughed in return, knowing how awful he was to his other friends.
Roman didn’t say anything this time either, just shook his head.
“I hate him so much, Ro. He’s awful. He ruined everything. Logan hasn’t spoken to me in almost a year because of the shit he pulled before we graduated.”
Roman sighed, “I know, Virg…but he’s not necessarily known for being a good person, I thought you knew that” he says softly.
Virgil took a drag of his cigarette and breathed out, “obviously not.” He said a little annoyed.
Immediately he regretted it. “Sorry” he said, tapping his cigarette and letting the ashes fall.
Roman gave him a reassuring smile, “it’s okay”
Virgil put his cigarette on the concrete step they were sat on, getting rid of its light and throwing the butt into the grass. He put his head in his hands. “Life’s rough, man. I don’t even miss him anymore I’m just upset because he made me really, really happy. Sometimes…I feel like it’s my fault? for introducing him to Janus.”
“It’s not your fault at all. It’s his. Honestly? I don’t even know why he’s here. I didn’t invite him, someone else probably did.“ Roman says the last part sheepishly, a little ashamed that he let Janus in his house with his best friend that he hurt irreversibly.
Virgil turns to Roman, staring at him longingly in the eyes. They were beautiful. Hazel with green specks around the edges. Maybe it was the tequila, or his exhaustion, or his desperation to feel loved by someone, but he slowly moved a hand to Romans face.
“Can I?” He whispered
Roman looked at him for a moment, weighing his options. He did like Virgil, but what if he was doing this in a drunken haze? What if he was just using him to get over Logan? He didn’t believe he was truly over their relationship just yet.
Despite these fears, Roman shook his head and their lips locked. He let himself melt into it, let himself enjoy the moment. He tasted of alcohol, honey lavender tea, and Marlboro Reds.
After a moment, Virgil pulled away; A look of blissful happiness on his face.
Roman was still holding onto the moment, staring through Virgil.
He looked at him, worried. “oh god I’m so sorry did you not want—“
Roman interrupted him, “No! no I did..I really, really did.” He smiled, genuinely.
Virgil returned it, “That’s good.”
Roman paused for a second “so…does this mean we’re dating?..” he asked “cause you’re drunk and I just don’t want-“
Virgil took Romans hands in his. “I’m just a little tipsy, Honey, but I know what I want, and what I want is this.” he says gently.
“Okay.” Roman responds, hopeful.
“I’m gonna head home, alright? Text me, I’ll respond as soon as I can” Virgil says
“I will, love” he says. The nickname feels odd leaving his lips, especially being used on someone who’s been his friend for 22 years, but he says it anyway.
Virgil gets in his car and pauses.
Romans phone dings after a minute or two and he takes it out of his pocket, reading the message before watching Virgil’s car leave his driveway.
Virgil<3: “I promise I want this, and I want you. Some tequila and a little heartbreak doesn’t change that. 💜”
Roman smiles, puts his phone back in his pocket, and goes back inside.
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"Cut!"
Hi! I was remembering how some of your fics have Roman practicing conversations with the other sides in the Imagination over and over. Now, I tend to be one of those people that is almost always in my head (been mildly dissociating near constantly for almost a year now which uh- probably should get that checked out actually) and a lot of the time when I do stuff I get deja vu even if I've never done something like that before. And it's kinda gotten to the point where I'm not entirely sure if something has actually happened or not sometimes. So I was thinking maybe Roman references a conversation what he'd had with the Imagination!Sides in passing on accident, and everyone is kinda like "Princey wtf are you talking about??" And Roman panics and hides, and the next time he sees the sides he thinks that they don't wanna see him and this is a scene in the Imagination. So he gets really confused when the words he's learned will get the fake sides angry at him just are met with more concern and worry from the real sides. And they're trying to comfort him and he doesn't know what's going on and yells "CUT!" but obviously it doesn't work and now everyone is really worried and Roman can't tell between what's real and what's fake anymore and just. Has a mental breakdown. and then they comfort :D because I cannot leave this poor guy with an unhappy ending. – anon
hiii !!!! idk if you’re taking requests, and if not please ignore me, but if you are, i’m legit in love with how you write rociet with roman angst, and i would love to see more of it !!!!!! thank you !!!!!!!! – anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: unreality/roman having trouble remembering things and figuring out what's real, self-doubt
Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide
Word Count: 4976
It begins so slowly that they don't think anything of it at first. Roman will say something that they don't remember, or he'll reference something that never happened, or he'll forget something that happened just a few days ago as though it happened several months back. Things...escalate, and soon they figure out the problem is far, far worse than they could have ever imagined.
Remus doesn't bother with asking or knocking, he just sinks into Roman's room right over his bed.
There's no yelp or screech, which means Roro's not in the bed, but he does get a surprised little squeak when he turns around from his desk.
"Ro-bro!"
"Re? I thought you were—you went—aren't you feeding Ollie right now?"
Remus frowns, sitting up. "No, that's not for another week. And you're supposed to come with me."
Roman furrows his brow, toying with his pen. "Really? I thought you said…"
He trails off, staring into nothing and Remus's frown deepens, sliding off the bed and walking over. Roman's pen stills, his grip a little too tight, and Remus nudges his shoulder. "Roro?"
It's like someone electrocuted him—Roman clicks and suddenly this wide grin that looks almost painful settles on his face and Remus blinks in surprise. "Sorry, don't know what came over me. Must've been lost in thought."
"Are you—hey!"
Roman leaps up and tackles Remus through the door into the Imagination, summoning his sword and swinging it before Remus has a chance to catch his breath. His morningstar clangs against the blade a moment later and he grins too—he's been waiting for Roman to start one of their fights for ages!
"Come on," Roman taunts, spreading his arms, "or are you just gonna lie there all day?"
"Oh, you asked for it, Roro."
Their sparring shakes the ground, yells and laughs ringing out as their weapons clash over and over and over. Remus throws back his head and howls and the Imagination responds, the sky growing dark and thick with clouds as thunder booms in the distance. Roman's sword grazes his arm and he shoves Remus hard in the chest, knocking him over.
"Do you yield?"
"Never!" He springs back up and they're off again, but Roman keeps dancing out of the way. "How're you so fast? Have you been practicing without me?"
Roman falters and Remus jams his elbow into the soft part of Roman's ribs, knocking him off-balance just enough to swat the sword from his hand. The first raindrops start to fall as Roman lands on his side, Remus's morningstar about to aim for his chest when a leg trips him and suddenly Roman's got his sword back—how did that happen?—and Remus's weapon is flying across the field.
"How the fuck—?"
"Do you yield?"
Remus snarls playfully and jumps up, tackling Roman and knocking his sword away again. Roman responds instantly, grappling across the slowly-muddying field until they end up on their backs, Roman's arm holding Remus in a chokehold as the rain pours down on them.
"Do you yield?"
"Yeah, yeah," Remus gasps, "I fucking yield. Leggo."
Roman chuckles and lets him roll off, landing face first in a mud puddle. His muscles ache but only in the good way and he flops onto his back, smiling breathlessly at the sky.
"That was fucking amazing, Roro," he gasps, "you have been practicing, haven't you?"
"Just trying to keep up with you," comes Roman's answer, just a little too quickly.
Remus doesn't think anything of it.
2.
"Roman?"
"Hm?" Roman looks up from his spot in the corner of the living room, curled around his notebook. "Oh, hey, Padre. Is everything okay?"
Patton tilts his head. "Yeah, kiddo, why wouldn't it be?"
"Sorry, it's just, you know, everyone's been a little tense recently, what with…" Roman makes a vague gesture. "Everything. I shouldn't have assumed, though, I'm sorry."
Before Patton can ask if Roman's okay, Roman's settling his notebook to the side and standing up.
"What can I do for you?"
"I was going to ask if you wanted to help me with dinner?"
An expression flickers across Roman's face, too quick to name, before he's smiling and bowing. "It would be my honor, lead the way."
At least he's alright enough for that. Patton goes over to the kitchen, Roman behind him, and reaches for the large pot at the back of the stove. "I was thinking we could try that new pasta dish that Virgil's been asking about? The one Thomas saw on that YouTube video?"
"The one with all the spices and garlic and stuff?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
"I don't remember if we have all the ingredients we need, but I'm definitely down to try." Roman opens a cabinet and starts taking bottles down from the shelf. "We can also definitely tweak the recipe to make sure that we can do the important parts, we just have to be careful that—"
"Uh, Roman?"
Roman pauses, turning to look over his shoulder, still holding a jar. "Yeah?"
"I, uh, I did this last week, I know what spices we have. I figured this out, you don't have to tell me how to do it."
Again, that expression flickers over his face and he quickly sets down the jar and takes a big step away from the counter. "Right, right, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to—no, I'm not gonna make an excuse. I'm sorry, Patton, I'll listen."
"It's fine, kiddo, I know you didn't mean it." Patton holds out the pot. "Can you fill this with water?"
"Of course!"
They start prepping, Patton providing little instructions and Roman carrying them out. He chops the shallots, the green onions, and sets the sausage to the side to be cooked first. By the time they're ready to start the actual cooking, Patton's got the water boiling for the rice noodles when Roman looks over his shoulder.
"Um, what are you doing?"
"Cooking the noodles, that's it."
"But they're—sorry, aren't they supposed to be cooked later?"
"We need them ready to add to the rest of the stuff near the end, kiddo, so they have to be ready."
"But they only take a few minutes." When Patton frowns, just thinking Roman's words over, Roman hastily continues. "Sorry, I'm sure you know that already. Here, I'll, uh, would it be helpful if I got a bowl out to put them in once they're done?"
"Yeah, that'd be great."
He catches that expression on Roman's face again, and again it vanishes too quickly for him to ask about, but the rest of the cooking goes off without a hitch. They get a lot of compliments on how good everything tastes and Patton makes sure Roman gets as much of the praise as he does.
"I just listened to you," Roman demurs, "it's really all you."
"It seems not only have you cooked a spectacular dish," Logan observes, "but you've also taught Roman some humility."
Virgil snorts. "'Bout time."
Roman smiles as the rest of them laugh. Patton takes another bite. "This is even better than last time."
"Last time," Roman says quietly, "sorry, can you—when was last time?"
"Sheesh, Princey, how bad is your memory getting? It was just last week?"
"Last week, right."
Patton opens his mouth to ask why Roman still sounds unsure about it, but then Remus throws one of the prawn shells at Janus and he doesn't think about it anymore.
3.
"Easy, now," Roman murmurs, still stroking his hand up and down Virgil's spine, "that's it…you're doing really well, shadow-ling."
Virgil closes his eyes, resting against Roman's solid chest as the last of the panic attack bleeds from his veins. His breathing has yet to even out, but he can start to smell some of Princey's shampoo again, so he takes it as a win. He'll deny it later, but he turns his head to nuzzle into the crook of Roman's neck. Roman doesn't say a single thing, just shifting his grip to hold Virgil more securely in his lap.
"Hey," he says gently when Virgil headbutts his chin, "you here with me, bud?"
"Mmpf."
Roman's chuckle thrums warmly through his head. "I'll take that as a 'sort of.'"
Half of Virgil expects Roman to gently prod him into taking care of himself the rest of the way: getting him water, making him try and eat a little, getting him out of the gross and sweaty clothes into clean ones, even trying to talk him into taking a shower. And he'd do it, putting up his cursory protests, but that would mean that Roman's getting ready to leave and right now, in the last of the panic, he really wants Princey to stay.
He'd deny it if Roman ever asked him, of course, and he'd throttle Janus before he could chirp how much of a lie that was.
But Roman doesn't do that. Instead, he wraps his arms even more gently around Virgil and tucks him half over his shoulder, almost straddling his lap as one of his hands begins to card through his hair. Pressed chest to chest, he has to stifle another hitching gasp as Princey starts humming. It's a low and gentle tune, almost melancholy, and he swears it's some kind of magic as it reaches into the exhausted heap of emotions still swirling in his gut and starts coaxing it out of him.
Yeah, that means he goes back to crying into Princey's shoulder, but it's a softer cry that feels like he might actually feel better when it's over and he has no idea how Roman knows exactly what to do.
He's not gonna question it though.
There's no way the song Princey's humming is as long as he holds him for, so he must be doing it over and over, which just makes Virgil cry more because Roman is choosing to stay with him right now, he's choosing to let Virgil be a puddle of mess on his lap, and he's still running his fingers lightly over Virgil's back and yes, actually, Virgil would like to stay here forever.
When the tears eventually run out and Virgil's just floating there, in a really pleasant haze, he realizes that Roman isn't going to move until Virgil decides he wants to move. Not when he's just shifting so it's easier for Virgil to breathe, and he's still scratching gently along the space between his shoulder blades.
"…Princey?"
"Hm?"
"How'd…how'd you know what to do?"
Roman turns and noses Virgil's hair. "You told me, remember?"
Virgil's tired brain tries to figure out when he gave Roman the step-by-step on how to give him the best, most indulgent comfort ever and draws a blank. "No. I—when'd I do that?"
Roman's hand stutters for a moment, just a moment, but a moment nonetheless. "Maybe I just figured out why it took me so long to realize what you needed, then."
Talking is hard, and so Virgil doesn't do it, but he does think about it.
4.
"It's not that bizarre of an opinion, to be sure, but the way it's phrased speaks more of an incomplete understanding of the topic than they intended."
"No, I see your point. I mean, I know I'm definitely biased and reading sentences like that tends to make me defensive, but I know that, and I'm trying to work on it." Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. "I think it's just hard because when you make such sweeping generalizations that imply that you really don't know what it is you're talking about, it's hard for me to not be super defensive and stuff, does that make sense?"
"It's another area for you to work on—"
"Yeah, I know."
"—but I see your point. If someone doesn't come to the table in good faith, it's difficult to have good faith yourself." Logan sits back, still pondering the opinion piece in front of them. "Though it is clear they lack the same kind of expertise and knowledge that you do."
"I think that's also why it's hard for me—I can list, like, four different examples offhand that would disprove their point, and at least half a dozen more that show the contradictions they've made in the last paragraph alone—like, I'm not alone here, that part contradicts their point about pacing, doesn't it?"
"Not entirely, but yes, it lends an ambiguity to their earlier statement."
"Right." Roman rubs his forehead and flips through his notebook, brow furrowed. "I swear I remember when we talked about academic continuity, I just need to find that page."
Logan frowns. "When we what?"
Roman looks up, brow furrowed. "When we talked about…you know, the importance of making sure your argument—or your point, sorry—carries through your entire piece?"
"I don't recall that conversation."
"You, um—" Roman starts flipping through his notebook, his movements taking on an increasingly frenetic pace— "you brought one of my papers to me that we talked about and you started going through the um, the problems with the layout and we started talking about the importance of—I swear it's in here, I just need to find it."
Logan sits forward, his brow increasingly furrowing as Roman almost tears a page trying to turn it. "Roman, it's—"
"Here." Roman runs his finger down the page, still not meeting Logan's gaze, "we talked about how it's important to have a coherent theme that the reader can follow and how to acknowledge conflicting viewpoints without placing them in a hierarchy."
Logan blinks. That does sound like a conversation that he and Roman would have—one that he believes he'd rather enjoy—but he has no recollection of it. Roman's expression flickers when he says as much, something almost like panic rising in his gaze before it's quickly stifled.
"Well," he says, forcing a smile onto his face, "perhaps I was just reading it back over and imagined what you'd say."
"I quite like this imaginary version of me, then," Logan jokes, "he makes excellent points."
Roman's reaction is not quite a flinch, but his smile squeezes for a moment too long before he nods.
"Would you mind having it again," Logan asks, "for the sake of—?"
"Oh, I couldn't do it justice," Roman says a little too quickly, "but you, um, you can read it? If you want?"
Logan blinks again, surprise coloring his voice. "You'd let me read your notes?"
"…if…if you want to?"
Waiting for Roman to retract that invitation at any moment—he has never seen Roman fiercer than when something touches his notebooks—Logan reaches out and carefully starts to read. The conversation's transcript—or summary—is fascinating. He finds himself almost mourning the fact that this wasn't a conversation he'd actually had. Although some of the comments that he can tell are his are a touch more callous than he'd prefer, he finds himself engrossed in their dialogue until he gets to the latter half.
Roman's handwriting grows sloppy, as it is wont to do when he gets caught up, but there are occasional splotches of discoloration where it looks like something wet.
"Oh, I was drinking something," Roman says offhandedly when Logan asks, "must've spillled."
"I'm surprised you'd drink around your notebooks, you take such care of them."
"Well, you know me."
Before Logan can point out that he does, that's why he's confused, Roman's saying that he's sorry, but he's a little worn out, would Logan mind terribly if they cut this short a bit? Logan shakes his head and watches Roman pick up his notebook, walking out of his room. That moment of panic lingers in his mind and he frowns, wondering why Roman had panicked.
He thinks about that and the drops of liquid that had obscured a line in Roman's handwriting that just said cut.
5.
Janus hears Roman lie over and over again and he's about to break something.
Every time, he has to hold back his visible surprise that one, Roman is lying so readily, and two, that he's getting away with it. The little prince is a better actor than Janus gave him credit for—than any of them gave him credit for, as it's turning out—and the more times it happens, the more Janus thinks that something right under their noses is going terribly, horribly wrong.
The lies aren't big enough for them to be problems on their own, but they stack on top of each other like pebbles until it feels as though Janus blinks one day and there's a wall between Roman and the rest of them that seems insurmountable. And each time another adds to the mass, he thinks about calling it out, but they're never for something so serious as to warrant a full interrogation and the last thing he wants to do is let Roman know he's suspicious of him.
…it sounds much worse than it is.
It's just that if Roman is this good about keeping everyone off his tail right now, with almost no baseline suspicion or cause for concern, he has no desire to see what would happen if Roman was intent on keeping it a secret. And if he is going to succeed in uncovering why Roman feels so fundamentally scared, something Virgil only admitted after Janus had poked and prodded him for far too long, then he needs all of the rest of them on his side too.
His opportunity comes unexpectedly.
They're having a meeting—not a meeting meeting, they're just talking about what they want to do this weekend—and Roman brings up a conversation they'd had about making sure movie nights were comfortable for everyone. Talking about possible triggers beforehand, making sure everyone had equal access to whatever snacks they wanted, even down to making sure everyone behaved considerately while the movie was playing to ensure everyone was having a good time.
A perfectly reasonable thing to bring up, except that conversation never happened.
"What?" Roman looks around. "Are—it did, I swear. We were—we were getting ready to watch the second Venom movie and Remus brought up the body horror and gore that happens and we started talking about—"
He looks around at them all again.
"Do…do none of you remember this?"
"No, kiddo."
"Not really."
"It would be a good conversation to have, but I don't remember this instance of it."
Remus and Janus just shake their heads, Janus keeping his eyes on Roman as he fiddles with his hands.
Don't lie, Roman, please.
"Sorry," Roman says, flashing a bright smile, "must be getting lost in my Imagination again."
Janus narrows his eyes—not technically a lie, but Roman's leaving something out. For a moment, it seems like the conversation will keep flowing and he'll have to wait for a better time to ask Roman what's wrong, but then Patton's speaking up.
"Kiddo?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
Roman laughs. "Yeah, of course, Padre, why wouldn't I be?"
Lie. Janus hisses softly and Roman's head jerks around.
"What's the matter," Logan asks, and Roman jerks again at the gentle tone, "will you talk to us, Roman?"
"You've been acting a little strange for a while now," Patton agrees, taking a step closer, "is everything okay?"
"Yeah, like I said," Roman tries, a smile still sort of on his face, "everything's fine, why are you—"
Janus hisses again as Virgil sits up. "Princey, you don't have to be scared, you can—"
"I'm not scared!"
The stronger lie sears across Janus's tongue as Roman winces at the force of his own shout. He pinches the bridge of his nose. No one dares move for several long seconds. Just when Logan looks like he's about to say something, Roman takes a deep breath and lowers his head.
"I'm sorry," he says in a voice that sounds so mournful it makes Janus's chest ache, "I didn't mean to shout or snap at you. You didn't deserve it, I'm sorry. I think I—I've just been spending too much time in the Imagination again."
As soon as he finishes talking, he braces. Like he's expecting to get hit. He hears Remus make a worried noise next to him, starting to reach out.
"Little one," Logan says gently, "we're not angry with you, there's no need for all of that."
Roman's eyes snap open and at the look of pure confusion on his face, a few more of them let out little sounds. Virgil stands up and Roman turns too quickly to face him.
"Hey, Princey," Virgil soothes, his hands up, "I'm not moving, okay? I'm just worried. You're—I can feel you freaking out a little that's all."
"Sweetheart," Patton calls next and Janus winces at how much Roman's neck keeps snapping back and forth, "sweetheart, it's okay, you're safe, it's gonna be okay."
"Back off a bit, we're crowding him."
All of them—except for Remus—take a step back. Remus edges closer and closer to Roman until he can rest a hand on Roman's shoulder. Roman just trembles and Remus cups the side of his face.
"Hey, Roro. Look at me. Just at me, okay?"
"I don't—this wasn't—"
"Breathe," Remus bids softly, and Roman draws a few gasping breaths.
"This wasn't supposed to happen."
"What wasn't?"
"This—I—I don't—"
Remus opens his mouth to say something else when it morphs into a wordless sound of surprise as Roman sinks out abruptly, leaving him scrabbling at the empty air as the rest of them rush forward.
"What happened?"
"Where'd he go?"
"Did we do something to upset him?"
"What's going on?"
Janus doesn't say anything, still staring at the spot where Roman had been. He thinks about all of the lies he's heard, all of the things Roman hasn't said, and how out of all of the things Roman lied about, he'd never lied about being lost in the Imagination.
A conclusion starts to take shape.
+1.
"No wonder you've been so off, your head hasn't been attached to you since you lost it."
"It's a bad idea to spend so much time in the Imagination, Roman, you know that."
"That sounds really irresponsible, Roman. You should know better."
"Quit hogging the Imagination, I need to use it too."
"Oh, of course you were, Roman, did you honestly think we'd expected anything different?"
"You need to be better disciplined, if you can't get the work done you need to before deciding to go off and play."
"Sheesh, Princey, are you really that selfish?"
"If it's getting so bad that you're having delusions, then you need to stop, kiddo."
"Oh, no, Roman's having trouble understanding what's real again."
"The fuck is wrong with you?"
"You're being dramatic, pull yourself together."
"Your crocodile tears aren't convincing anyone, you know."
"Stop crying, you're not a baby."
"Do you think that if you throw a big or pathetic enough tantrum, it'll get us to spoil you? Grow up."
"Stupid."
"Ridiculous."
"Pathetic."
"Annoying."
"Worthless."
"You can't do anything right."
"You're being ridiculous."
"We should never have relied on you."
"I knew you couldn't handle it."
"We're better off without you."
Roman curls up around his pillow, wedging himself deeper into the corner. He jams his face between it and the wall. He tries to keep his hands out of sight. He counts in his head as he breathes, trying to keep it as even as possible. Eventually it will be over. He just has to last until then. Then he can go to his room and cuddle his plushie dragon and be upset there, out of the way, and hurt all by himself. It's safer that way.
He keeps his breathing nice and steady, letting the hurt course through him. The voices keep going, taunting, mocking, yelling, scolding, until they start to just say his name over and over. Roman, Roman, Roman, Roman—
"Roman!"
Something like a frenzied scream comes from behind him and he turns his face deeper into the wall.
"What the fuck are those things?"
"Shit, how long have those been here?"
"Are they—are they supposed to be us?"
"Yeah, fucked up and cruel versions of us, not on my fucking watch!"
Several wet splats come from behind him and then there are hands on his shoulder, running through his hair, and someone that feels like Remus is murmuring in his ear.
"Hey, Roro, it's over. I destroyed them, they're gone, it's the real us. We're here, we're really here, just—just come out of there, okay?"
Oh. It's this one.
He always finds this one the cruelest, where they lure him in with promises of comfort and safety only to turn on him when he reveals what he's actually upset about. No, thank you, he's hurting just fine on his own.
"Roro, please, come out of there, it's okay, it's all gonna be okay."
"Let me try," he hears Logan's voice say, and then the Remus is moving away and there's another hand on his shoulder, "dear, it's alright. You're going to give yourself neck pain if you stay like that, come here…"
Despite his chest howling at him not to, Roman lets Logan coax him out from the corner. Each word of gentle praise just makes it worse—it's going to hurt so much when they start being mean again.
"Princey—" and there's Virgil— "hey, stay with us, okay? Just focus on us, Pat, do you want to—"
"I got it."
Despite himself, a wounded noise leaves Roman's throat as a blanket gets draped over his shoulders. Careful touches smooth it down, more hands helping to secure it in place, and he just curls up so small under it so he doesn't get used to the warmth.
Just get it over with. Just get it over with. Just get it over with.
"Sweetie," he hears, and flinches at the touch of a smooth hand and a scaled hand on his face.
Wait, what?
Janus never takes his gloves off. Not here. Not like this. They can't—they can't be this cruel to him, not today, not when everything already hurts so much.
"Cut," he manages, "cut."
But the hands don't leave and he looks up to see Janus, actual real Janus looking at him and then he smiles softly and calls him sweetie again, and then Logan is appearing over his shoulder and Patton's adjusting the blanket and Virgil and Remus are keeping watch at the corners of the room and—and—and—
"Come here, sweetie," Janus murmurs and he's falling into his chest and there's a kiss being pressed to his temple and it's warm and soft and—
"Shh, Princey," Virgil says as a thread of panic starts to wind its way around his chest, "it's okay, you're okay," and—
"Come this way a little," Logan coaxes as something soft appears under him, "come lie down, you're alright," and—
"There you are," Patton's voice says as something starts to cuddle him, gently yet firmly and it's so surreal and—
"Oh, Roro," Remus mumbles as his brother's arms wrap firmly around him, "this is real, I promise, I promise we're here with you, everything's gonna be okay, okay? We're here, we're real, you're real, everything's gonna be okay now," and—
—and then Roman doesn't think anymore.
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anxietybeans · 2 years
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Anyone else have this feeling that remus would lurk in the sides closet and they have different reactions like:
Virgil sitting on his bed and hears the door creak and he just sighs and puts his headphones on
Roman always checks his closet as soon as he enters his room so he doesn't get hit in the head again
Patton screams then laughs nervously as he quickly walks out of his room
Logan has no reaction besides looking up from his book for a second
Janus would start throwing things at him starting with small things and getting bigger until he throws hes chair or side table
And Thomas doesn't worry about him being in the closet because hes already out but he does have to worry about remus being under his bed and grabbing his ankles
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logan-the-artist · 5 months
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hihihihi how you doing?! (i hope its good :>)
janus as 47 for the spotify wrapped one? /nf :>>>
hi!!! :} im good, thank you!! hope youre good too <33
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he’s mine and he always will be
he’s mine, he’s mine…
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