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the-passenger-if · 3 years

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one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon #is this dramatic enough #hope it isn't too messy n_n'

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pencilofawesomeness · 2 years

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For the ask game, how about 001 for either fairy tail or fullmetal alchemist?

Fam, I couldn't decide, so I'm just going to do both XD. I'll separate them on different posts though, so here's the first:

Fullmetal Alchemist

Favorite character: Greed. 100% Greed.

Least Favorite character: Uhhh... General Ravens I guess? He was just a bitch (and not an interesting one) but he got what was coming to him so it's all good.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Royai (Roy x Riza), Royai, Royai, and Ro— Okay so I'm biased towards Royai, but for realsies, it would be them, Maes x Gracia, Izumi x Sig, and definitely Winmail.

Character I find most attractive: *aroace start-up noises* ...low-key Hughes, ngl.

Character I would marry: Frickin Kain Fuery. Man’s just a nerd who loves dogs? I vibe with that. Just chilling with a bunch of rescue puppies and kittens and play video games or whatever. He seems like a thoughtful and chill dude.

Character I would be best friends with: Al. We would be snarky little shits together and befriend allll of the cats and team-up to be everybody’s support group.

A random thought: Al 100% has several named and cared for strays in East City. Fuery or Hawkeye probably care for them when the Elric brothers are gone. Ed has no idea.

An unpopular opinion: I don’t feel strong about this (and I don’t know if it’s could be considered “unpopular”) but I actually wanted a “power of friendship” ending to the series, in a way. Essentially, instead of Ed trading his ability to use alchemy for Al, after Hohenheim offers his life for Al’s, people start chipping in that Ed could use some of their life force instead of taking it all from Hohenheim. So it would be a call back to that time Ed used some of his life force to get out of being impaled, as well as a reflection of how Father made the homunculi. So instead of any one thing being traded, it would have been offered bits of dozens upon dozens of people that Al and the Elric brothers touched in some way, which also would have been a parallel to the philosopher’s stones (i.e. a mirror of the many lives for one method). So the culmination of “what is worth a life?” question would somewhat literally be all the different ways that life can affect others, represented just by little pieces of everybody else. I thought that would be neat. Though the somewhat tragic ending of Ed giving up his alchemy is also meaningful in its own way, so I’m not mad or anything. It’s just something I think about.

My Canon OTP: Roy and Riza, all the way. Very few ships make me actually invested in them, and they are one of the few. They’re so close and they trust each other wholeheartedly but also tease each other relentlessly. They’re friends and partners and the care they have for each other is palpable. The “ship conflict” isn’t about whether or not they will kiss or not, but rather, it’s just a matter of them vocalizing what they both know, and freaking surviving until the end of the manga. I just think they’re neat. A+ power couple imo.

My Non-canon OTP: Uhh, I don’t really ship much at all in FMA (or many shows), but you know what? Heinkel and Darius. They got mad dad energy and they work well together. Yeah, I’m going with them.

Most Badass Character: Ooo this is a tough one. There are lots of contenders, but it’s a close battle between Olivier and Riza. Olivier girlbosses gatekeeps gaslights stabs a man and cements over his body, but Riza is just an all around badass sniper and she keeps Team Mustang afloat. Yeah, I think Riza wins for sure, but shout-out to Olivier’s sheer metal and audacity.

Most Epic Villain: Kimblee. Man wasn’t even involved in anything, he was just crazy, but in the most compelling way possible. He wasn’t random. He had some points. But he was just the incarnation of human apathy in a show about being driven by emotions and ambitions, and that was really interesting.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Uh, besides anything that ships the kiddos with the adults, or siblings together, I guess I’m not a big fan of Al x Mei or Greed x Ling as ships. I like the friend synergy but it doesn’t feel deep enough to be a ship I guess? That and Greed is an adult imo so that’s just... mmmm noooo

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Honestly? I can’t think of anything. Arakawa out there slaying.

Favourite Friendship: Now the friendship between Green and Ling is interesting. Greed’s the bad-influence big brother and Ling is the crafty young one that ends up teaching Greed how to have his cake and eat it too. They’re both on the same page low-key and they both use the other to learn how to care for people more? It’s just neat. The childhood friends dynamic of Ed, Al, and Winry is also nice. Like Al and Winry teaming up at Ed’s expense? Ed and Al being gremlings and Winry being responsible? Ed and Winry bantering and Al choosing sides at complete random? Classic.

Character I most identify with: Winry, probably. She’s just chilling, focusing on her interests, and her friends pop in with problems without warning and suddenly she’s got to deal with it, but she loves her friends greatly and she’s not about ribbing on them. I get it.

Character I wish I could be: Xiao-Mei. Oh, to be a smol panda, capable of rational thought but also not obligated to do anything. Jaws of steel. Can win fights and make grown men cry. Yeah.

#fma #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #for the record I am talking about #fma:b/the manga #never actually seen 2003 #ask #ask game #anon #I need to do a full reread sometime #did a partial one for a college paper #but between two of my fics #I should probably get fresher material #yes I'll get back to everything to me one day #I just keep getting distracted

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

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honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

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ligiawrites · 3 years

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I’ve had your game on my to play list for a while, and today I decided to finally play it. Skip to a hour later, and I’m sitting here with literal tears in my eyes. Your game is so amazing, like MATHAIS! THE CHARACTER DYNAMICS. THE EMOTION. 19/10, my new obsession now. Though, I do have a question: I read something on your tumblr about Mc archetypes. What are the archetypes, exactly? Have a great day!!

Awww! *hugs* Thank you, Anon! I'm so glad you're enjoying the game so much! ♥♥♥

Basically, the Archetypes are both bases for you to develop your character and also the foundation stone of the mechanics behind LtGBtK.

This will be quite a long answer, so I'll add a cute lilcut here. :3

Every choice you make leads you closer to one of them, while also helping to build your own story, so you'll probably end up with an MC that is a mix of the three, but still having one that shines brighter than the others. LtGBtK doesn't have different RO routes, but the MC Archetypes function like different MC routes that help shape the story and your relationship with most of the characters around you. :)

When playing different dominant Archetypes, the game should feel completely different, cause each one of them has a different character arc, a different theme, a different mood, and offers different pieces of the backstory/world lore. ;3

If you wanna know more about them, here are their main personality traits. I took this from my update notes on ko-fi, tee-he a-a

The three Character Archetypes and their main personality traits.

"Love the Guard, Be the King" has three different archetypes that help build the personality of your Dragon Commander. Your relationship with the characters around you is also influenced by it.

The three main personality archetypes are:

>> The Seeker

"I don't know where I am going, but I am on my way."

― Voltaire

Laser-focused on protecting Mathias, being a good person, and finding their own path. This Archetype can sometimes be too innocent or too gullible and don't really understand all the desires in their heart.

THE SEEKER Believes in the strength of gentleness, honesty, loyalty, and of a good heart.

>> The Destroyer

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.”

― Anais Nin

This Archetype says whatever they want, whenever they want, wherever they are. They believe in the power of actions, in the importance of resilience, and won't take shit from nobody. Isn't great with emotions, but often acts on impulses, which makes their actions true to what they feel. May also create a shield of thorns to protect themselves.

THE DESTROYER is a force of nature, at the same time tempest and breeze.

>> The Ruler

“Everyone has talent. What's rare is the courage to follow it to the dark places where it leads.”

― Erica Jong

This Archetype believes in being proper before others and disciplined at all times. They impose high standards and can't forgive themselves or others. Wants Mathias to be the best King he can be.

THE RULER is a natural schemer and might develop varying degrees of jealousy.

These are just the basics of each one, though, and they are meant to mix and merge so you can have a different experience every time you play. I hope I'm managing to do that! hahaha

#love the guard be the king #visual novel #VN #ltgbtk #mc archetypes #lovely anon

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years

Note

I honestly agree with a lot of your opinions, and even when I don't, I think that your arguments are always well structure and respectful to other people.

But I have some questions (and I'm sorry if you have already answer them), (also sorry for some of my English, it's not my first language)

How do you feel about narusaku?

How do you feel about people changing certain aspects about Sakura to try to improve her character?

How would you improve Sakura?

How much do you think Sakura being a good character could affect the story?

What was the moment you really started to ship SNS? And what are you favorite moments?

(Sorry if there's ro many questions)

I honestly agree with a lot of your opinions, and even when I don't, I think that your arguments are always well structure and respectful to other people.

Aww!!!! Thank you, Anon. This made my day. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

I will start from my favourite question (The one in the last)

What was the moment you really started to ship SNS?

I never wore any shipping lens, Anon.

Literally, I started to ship SNS only after Episode 478 or Chapter 698. Before that, I always had these doubts in the back of my mind.

'Something seems to be very weird between these guys',

'Why are they behaving differently compared to other friends?',

'Why Sasuke is behaving totally different towards Naruto?',

'Why Sasuke agreed to honour Naruto's promise under the bridge, despite having no shred of affection towards his other former Team Members?',

'Why Naruto is so obsessed with Sasuke?',

'Why Sasuke felt Naruto's chakra in Konoha and bothered by it?',

'Why Sasuke is protecting Naruto like a precious treasure only to end up wanting to kill him?',

'Why Sasuke has this weird obsession that ONLY I CAN KILL NARUTO but not someone else?',

So, I had all these questions piling up one by one inside my mind as the series progressed and I can't simply jump into a conclusion because I don't know what Sasuke was thinking. I hate one-sided ship and I want reciprocation. So, I usually put all these questions on the back burner and started to focus on the story. Damn!!!, The story was equally captivating and emotionally daunting. When Sasuke finally confessed his feelings towards Naruto in Episode 478, I simply couldn't believe myself but ship them. Because, in no world, Friends would behave this way towards each other.

So, to answer your question, it's after Episode 478, I started to ship them. But if you want me to say when exactly I started to doubt their level of friendship??

It's this moment,

Now you may think, 'Yeah, you saw two boys in a close proximity and decided to ship together. It's nothing strange'.

I have to say, Close proximity was the last thing, I felt from this scene. My reason was those heart breaking scenes that happened before which led to this specific moment.

I will make it as short as possible. I'll start with this

God!! I wanted to punch Sasuke so badly when he said this with a deadpan expression. It looks like he was lying just to get power. I thought, 'Sasuke!!! What a lying piece of crap you are!! If you want to kill Naruto, Just do it. Why doing a fake confession? '.

It doesn't help as the fight progressed because Sasuke was really playing football with Naruto and when this happened,

I was shell-shocked because, the Sasuke we saw so far is no more. It even confirmed my thoughts about the fake confession. Which sane person will ram Chidori through his Close Friend's body?.

After many blows were exchanged, I simply wished for one thing. Naruto should win and Sasuke should be stopped no matter what. When the final Rasengan vs Chidori happened, I couldn't understand what was going on inside that power ball. Naruto and Sasuke look at each other with pained expression and we see the younger version of them smiling at each other.

And then finally we see a knocked out Naruto with Sasuke standing and looking at him without any expression and was about to say, 'Naruto.... I' which was interrupted by rain and when Sasuke felt a stinging pain in his arms and falls down on his knees. He coughs up blood and then this iconic scene happens.

That scene conveyed many things

Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto but couldn't.

Sasuke meant what he said. Naruto is his closest friend, it’s not a lie.

Sasuke couldn't severe his ties completely with Naruto.

Sasuke's pain of saying 'Goodbye' is greater than the stinging pain in his arms.

Sasuke deliberately, I repeat deliberately and not accidentally, came close to look at Naruto's face and experiencing something that, we, audience don't know.

So, you see, Anon. The emotional train wreck that led to this scene made me really doubt about their depth of feelings they had towards each other for the first time. That's when I thought, 'Something seems to be very weird between these guys, what is it?'

And what are you favorite (SNS) moments?

There are two moments which shows how Sasuke is playing an emotional battle within himself.

1. Sasuke, Susanoo, Naruto, Minato

This happens right after Sasuke said to Obito, “Not you.... The one who is going to sever the past is....me”.

In this moment, Sasuke can pretty much let Naruto to die, because nobody is trying to kill Naruto. Still, he saved him with a 3 layered protection. The best part is Sasuke acted quicker than Minato, the fastest shinobi, to protect Naruto. Surely Minato wouldn’t want to blow up near his Son, for whom he gave his life once. It’s just that Sasuke is extremely quicker at this moment.

2. For some reason, My Sharingan deactivated on it’s own

If only, Sasuke maintained his Sharingan, he could’ve traced Naruto’s movements and deflected his upper cut and would’ve successfully landed his Chidori through him. But he just couldn’t.

Both these scenes happens in a span of a day but Sasuke’s emotions fluctuates a lot when it comes to killing Naruto, protecting Naruto, can’t kill Naruto.

How much do you think Sakura being a good character could affect the story?

To be Honest Anon, Storywise ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

Yes, I agree with her amazing performance in Gaara retrieval Arc where she tagged along with Granny Chiyo and almost killed Sasori.

After that ????

She did nothing in the Sasuke Reunion Arc. It was all about Naruto vs Orochimaru, Yamato’s Wood style jutsu, Sai’s betrayal towards Orochimaru. Geez!!! I liked her attitude in this arc but totally spoiled when she was standing simply like a wooden doll when Sasuke was about to stab Naruto. It was Sai who blocked Sasuke.... I was like, ‘Girl!!!! You said you will save Sasuke for Naruto when he went into 4 tails mode. What happened now??? Why are you not stopping him???’

She was just making Food Pills in the Rasen Shuriken Arc.

She was basically climbing from one tree to another in the Sasuke killing Orochimaru to Sasuke joining Akatsuki Arc. Even Naruto’s role was very minimal in that arc except he met Kabuto, Dead soul of Jiraiya, Itachi, a split second meeting with Sasuke where he got Chidori’ed and fought with Tobi.

She was just a spectator praying for Naruto in the Pain Arc. Yeah, she did healed few people and punched some monsters. But it just doesn’t matter. Even Konohamaru killed a Pain in that arc.

She turned into an Asshole by making a fake confession towards Naruto and decided to kill Sasuke in the Kage Summit Arc. I think, this is where Kishi decided to shit on her mercilessly by making her into someone who was going to hurt both of her team mates mentally and physically. Basically Kishi transformed a clever medical Ninja who can find an antidote in a matter of hours to an asshole who believed Naruto did everything for her and even more of an idiot by planning to kill Sasuke with just a poisoned Kunai. Isn’t she the one who told Kakashi that Sasuke was given forbidden drugs to improve his strength after their Reunion??? Can’t she put 2+2 together to know Sasuke would be immune to poisons because of his days spent with Orochimaru??? Yeah, she did impacted the story. But it was not for her development. Sakura’s foolishness made Naruto and Sasuke to meet each other again and made a promise. So, you see, she was just a tool that pushes the narrative development of other characters, not her own. Her development took a big blow in this arc.

She was non-existent in the Naruto-Killer Bee Training Arc.

She was just healing people and punched some zetsu during Powerful Edo-Tensei Shinobis vs Allied Shinobi forces Arc. I expected her to have a special fight. But Nope. Even Ino, Shikamaru and Choji fought Asuma, Kakuzu and Kinkaku, Ginkaku brothers.

She was non-existent in the Uchiha Madara vs 5 Kages mini arc

She was non-existent in Obito vs Naruto, Kakashi, Might Guy and Killer Bee mini arc.

She was non-existent in the Sasuke & Itachi vs Kabuto mini arc.

She was non-existent in the Edo Tensei’ed Hokages and Team Sasuke arc.

She was punching some Juubi Clones in the Official War Arc which will never make a difference to the story. At the same time, her character was transformed from an Asshole who hurted her teammates to an horny biasshhhh who wants only Sasuke’s D. She summoned Katsuyu and was healing soldiers. But there were an army of Medical Ninjas too. So her absence will not affect the story in a big way. She did Lip to Lip CPR for Naruto though. Again, that would never help Naruto in a major way unless he was helped by Obito by placing Bijuu inside him. Again, Kishi didn’t make her the sole saviour here. Instead, she was used as a medium to facilitate Obito’s transformation from a bad guy to good guy. Kishi made Obito as the Saviour here.

She was useless and was not able to destroy Obito’s rinnegan in the Reincarnation of Indra and Ashura vs Rikkudou Sennin Madara arc.

She was useless in the Kaguya arc. [Sorry, that punch won’t make any difference because Kaguya must be stupid to not use her 360 degree vision to see Sakura from behind. With Naruto and Sasuke has already become a demi god at this point, her clown show is incomparable].

She was useless in the final Naruto vs Sasuke arc.

So, you tell me Anon. Did she make any impact to the story that served as a major twist??

The story revolved around Naruto and Sasuke.

Itachi, Obito, Jiraiya, Madara, Hashirama and other Hokages were the game changers of this story. Meaning, their presence or death will change the story by a huuuuggge margin.

Tsunade, Orochimaru, Team Nagato, Kabuto helped our protagonists in a BIGGGG WAAYYYY.

Akatsuki were just amazing who gave us the sense of thrill as well as fun.

Even Sakura being good will never impact the story because she had no dedicated arc written for her.

But, if she were written as a good character, my viewing experience would have improved in a relaxing way so much so that I don’t have to press my fast forward button whenever she appears and I wouldn’t be writing this post explaining why I hate her.

How would you improve Sakura?

Simple, By writing her similar to Rin Nohara.

No obsession but a simple love towards Sasuke.

No toxicity but caring friendship towards Naruto.

That’s all.

How do you feel about people changing certain aspects about Sakura to try to improve her character?

Well, that means they would qualify as a fanfiction writers, aren’t they??.

Also, this inherently proves that she is a piss poor character and people wants to change certain aspects of her which they find annoying. But it will 100% end up being OOC. And I’m not into reading those OOC stuffs, Anon.

I always believe in accepting what the author has given rather than trying to fix their work. Because the author writes a character deliberately to make the readers feel what he intended in the first place. Kishi could write a redemption for even someone like Orochimaru towards the very end. Like, he literally made him to help Sasuke, not as a human predator, but as a former Master and an admirer. He wrote him to help Tsunade and other Kages. So in the end, Orochimaru was not hated like he was hated in part 1. If he can write something for Orochimaru, why not for Sakura???

You know how I can redeem Sakura in just 3 or 4 panels?

Let me tell you.

After that fake confession, Sakura could talk to Naruto,

“I am very Sorry, Naruto. I know you will never take things in your heart. But still I shouldn’t have used Love as a tool to make you not to do something. I was an Idiot to not realize how badly you want to save Sasuke. It wasn’t just for me. But it was for Sasuke and also for you, as his friend and also for us as Team 7. So, how about we go to Ichiraku, for a nice lunch??”

While confessing Sasuke for the second time,

“It seems you still want to go on to that dark path, isn’t it?. I am not the most powerful ninja in this world and I know I can’t trade blows with you. But still.... if you try to hurt my friend, Naruto and my master, Tsunade. I will fight with all my strength to kill you..... Even though I love you”

I am pretty sure, if Sakura confessed something along these lines, everyone would have admired her and it shows her emotional maturity as a Kunoichi who wants to do something to this world as well as a person who is ready to kill someone she loved in order to protect the people she holds dear.

In chapter 699. Before saying Goodbye to Sasuke,

“I am very Sorry, Sasuke. I never really understood what was going on inside your heart. And, I always forced myself on you because of my selfishness. I really feel bad for those things. I never really became your friend in the first place. How about we say farewell as ‘a good friends’, before your redemption journey??” (Shakes hands.... End of Scene)

How is this???

Is it pleasant to read?? Of course, Yes.

I am pretty sure it wouldn’t take more than 4 or 5 panels. Kishi could’ve easily did something like this. Am pretty sure readers would’ve been satisfied. Her fans too. Even I would’ve forgiven her mistakes.

But Kishi didn’t and I am very sure it’s deliberate. Because, this very same Kishimoto could able to write Konan, Tsunade who acts with so much maturity without whining like a little girl.

Which shows Kishi clearly hates this character and never wanted to redeem her.

So no matter how many people improve this character, it will never be believable.

How do you feel about narusaku?

Naruto always placed Sasuke as his priority, Anon. That’s always the case. So, apart from SNS, if you want me to say whether NaruSaku had any potential?

I would say, yes, NaruSaku had potential. I will not deny it. Naruto had some liking towards Sakura compared to the absolute indifference towards Hinata.

There are some moments Sakura genuinely cried for Naruto without anyone’s influence. I liked it. Say, the scene where she cried on hearing ‘A Jinchuriki without Bijuu will die” and with Yamato she told, “I can only do little things for Naruto”.

These are all coming from her own heart. No one instilled inside her.

[[[ That’s why I will not accept her realization of ‘Annoying, huh? So, this is how Naruto must have felt too. Maybe I should be a little nicer to him next time’ as genuine in Episode 3. Because she realized only after Sasuke roasted her. I want feelings to emerge subconsciously rather than instilled by someone. ]]]

Unlike the asshole Sakura she was in part 1, Sakura started out good in Shippuden. I was surprised with her development in Gaara Retrieval Arc and was not at all annoyed by her presence. (Except when she said she will save Naruto and Sasuke from Itachi.... Grrrrr.... Biashhhhh.... Do you know Itachi’s abilities first of all??? He can crush you like a meatball with his Susanoo)

I started to feel, ‘Wooow!!! She has improved a lot. Great!!!!’.

Even though, she was useless in Rasen Shuriken Arc, She still made an effort to make food pills for Naruto. She even hugged Naruto much to his surprise, before all the villagers and especially before, ahemmm Hinata after defeating Pain.

Despite all of these moments that had happened between them, I could only see them as a pair formed of mutual tragedies rather than mutual attraction, Anon. In their case, Losing Sasuke. I wasn’t 100% sure whether Sakura moved on from Sasuke or not. Because When Sakura was looking for Sasuke with Kakashi’s Tracking dogs, she was still in love with him. So Sakura fluctuates between her obsession with Sasuke and some genuine feelings towards Naruto.

Kage summit Arc is where everything changed and finalized. Sakura was crying like an annoying shit when she heard that Sasuke joined Akatsuki and was wanted by Raikage. This clearly shows her obsession has flared up again and ‘Poof’ all the development she had with Naruto was thrown into drain.

On top of it, the fake confession. Grrrrrr.......

Plus, Naruto officially closed the possibilities of this ship by saying, “Sasuke, I know the Truth of Itachi from a guy named Tobi. I don’t know whether it’s true or not. But whatever you’ve been doing so far (hunting Killer Bee, ruckus in Kage summit conference, trying to kill Sakura, Kakashi).... It’s all understandable”.

If Naruto truly, wholeheartedly, deeply loved Sakura, he wouldn’t have said something like, ‘It’s understandable why you tried to kill Sakura”. He should have beaten Sasuke into a pulp. Or atleast shown some intense anger. Instead, Naruto was talking to Sasuke and making promise by saying ‘We will die together’. It’s like Sakura playing cupid for Sasuke and Naruto.

Naruto was okay with someone trying to kill Sakura whereas he was not okay with someone trying to kill Sasuke and even went to the extent of hyperventilating. This is why I feel any other ships are incomparable with SNS.

After that Sakura started to behave rabidly towards Sasuke in the War arc which I can’t help but feel disgusting. So, anything she did for Naruto in the War Arc was overshadowed by her crazy obsession towards Sasuke. That’s why her CPR doesn’t matter, Sakura healing Naruto doesn’t matter. [Naruto has his own regenerative abilities, so whatever she does will not matter much for him]

So, NaruSaku was closed officially by Naruto and Sakura. It couldn’t sail because of the presence of Sasuke.

At the end, I felt like Sakura used Naruto for getting her man back ready for romance rather than a killer mode Sasuke. I couldn’t feel the friendship they once had or any familiarity.

I just hate people who don’t value friendships, anon. Sakura was not even a good friend, first of all. Yeah she had her friendly moments here and there. But, at the end of the series, she was not. A war has just ended, many people lost their lives, her supposed ‘best friend’ Ino lost her father. Why can’t she help her out emotionally? Why can’t she do some fucking good stuffs for this Shinobi world like her other teammates?? Instead, what she did was ‘let’s go and persuade Sasuke-kun to lend me some D by going along with his journey. Because I am so horny’.

It not how you were in the beginning, It’s how you ended up being. She started this series as a worst friend and she ended up as a worst human being for me. How can I ship such a person with Naruto????

#ask #naruto analysis #anti narusaku #anti sakura #sasunaru #sasunarusasu #sns #naruto #sasuke

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darth-does-stuff · 2 years

Text

pirate au plot continued continued

now remus has told his crew all about roman (because they’re his new family basically why would he not tell them about it) so they all know the story on what happened and who roman is, janus and virgil especially know, being remus’ two closest friends. and so when logan says that, everything is still.

finally, finally remus speaks. ‘where is he’ and now logan is REALLY confused but he answers ‘sleeping where everybody else in my crew is???’ and usually remus would pick up on the passive aggressiveness logan has at their situation, but his mind is too busy whirling around this sudden piece of information. roman is here, on his ship, and with a crew that he helped capture. but roman is here on his ship. and sure, they have a very complicated past with each other, but roman’s the only one remus would truly call his family (by blood at least)

and so remus immediately leaves to go find his brother (his brother, oh god he finally found his brother) and virgil goes to follow, wanting to be there for his friend. but janus kinda pulls him back down, muttering to him that maybe it’s for the best that remus goes by himself. so virgil reluctantly complied and faces a completely perplexed logan, who’s just like ‘ok what the FUCK is going on here’ to which virgil explains in the shittiest way possible ‘they’re brothers dumbass’ and now LOGAN freezes because roman has also confided to logan and patton about his lost brother (but what’s important is that he never specified remus’ name. this is, in part, due to roman partially not even realizing he hasn’t ever said it once to them. but another part is, he doesn’t want to say his name. because it hurts so much saying it) so now officially everybody in the room has had that shocked realization, cool, whatever, they need to get back to that negotiation now

conversation slowly resumes with tentative chatter than inevitably leads to arguing (y’know, as it does) to which janus has to act as the mediator between the two dumbasses because holy shit they cannot agree on ANYTHING and he is So Tired. eventually it cuts to a remus that is slowly walking towards the lower deck. he is,,,scared. he’s definitely scared and nervous, but at the same time he’s so excited. there’s a whirlwind of emotions flying through him and, sooner than he expects, he’s there. remus slowly makes his way through the maze of people and reaches roman. and he stands there for a moment because he just can’t believe that roman is actually here. (and that he helped to capture him which, yeah that makes him feel kinda bad) roman, even in sleep, gets that six sense feeling that someone is watching you and his eyes flutter open to find this weird fuckin dude looming over him. and he’s??? so confused??? because who is this man and why is he here and oh god is he going to die????

and none of these thoughts are the words that come out of his mouth. instead he oh so eloquently says ‘who the fuck are you???’ and remus almost sobs because holy fuck that really is roman’s voice. much more matured than what he’s used to, but it’s HIM. and what makes its way out of his mouth is a very strained ‘hey ro’ because this man is on the verge of TEARS ok

but roman still doesn’t know what’s going on at all and he has a very prevalent question in his mind, which is

‘do i know you???’

3/??

((taglist: @star-crossed-shipper ))

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cuquitalocita · 3 years

Text

the hot girl from physics class- rowaelin

AN: okay this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and i just found it again. this is literally just self indulgent bickering with absolutely not plot in mind. also my first time writing rowaelin because i had no desire to butcher them so... anyway here’s to first tries and i hope you all enjoy!

main masterlist

Rowan’s mouth tasted of metal. Or maybe it was blood.

The second thing that hit him was the inability to breathe through his mouth as he attempted to swallow a mouthful of nonexistent air. The motion sent his eyes shooting open, immediately registering that while his mouth was covered, his nose was not, and he managed a large inhale of hot air before exploding into a rage of rough coughs that left him breathless and once again on the verge of blacking out. Rowan thrashed in what seemed to be a chair, quickly realizing that both his arms and legs were bound tighter than he thought possible, and no amount of lacrosse training could prepare him for the fatigue he felt at that moment. The dark spots in his vision didn’t seem to help either and his sweat shone skin seemed to melt in on itself as he took a few more breaths through his nose, slower this time until he was somewhat steady.

It was only then he felt stable enough to figure out what the hell had happened. The last thing he remembered was excusing himself to go to the bathroom before the bus was supposed to take off. He had been walking down the empty hallway one moment and the last thing he could recall was the strange sensation of being as light as a feather before darkness overtook him. And now he was here. And… where was here exactly?

A sort of warehouse it seemed, with tall metal walls and a lofted ceiling, freezing regardless of the fact that it was barely fall meaning it was most likely abandoned. Night shone through the glass windows he identified to his right and left and across from him sat-

“CELEANA?” Rowan attempted to scream out, his cloth-filled mouth muffling the sound to almost nothing. But he was right, and his vision refused to fail him as his eyes widened at the hot girl from physics class who now sat across from him in a much more comfortable looking chair than his hard wooden one, sporting casual leggings, a stained t-shirt, an insanely messy bun, and the smuggest expression he had ever seen. Strands of golden hair sprang out every which way and Rowan was hit with the inherent desire to smooth it out himself. His heart did terrified somersaults as he took in her (clearly) laid back posture and bored eyes and he stiffened as Celeana pulled up one of her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around it, one of her hands clutching a small book. It was only then he noticed the highlighter sticking out from between her teeth. If he wasn’t gagged, he would’ve been gaping. She was studying.

“Well look who’s awake,” she mused, her voice somehow sounding deeper than it had before. Rowan couldn’t deny how smooth it sounded and how naturally it suited her. “Hey, sleeping beauty.” There was no mistaking the smirk that curled onto her lips and the sparkle in her unique turquoise eyes as she gazed at him, her look solely calculating as she took him in from head to toe, zeroing in on something close to his head.

The tip of the gun was colder than he imagined it would be, the hard metal sending a shock through his entire body and forcing a scream out of his mouth, damning the gag. The sound was just as muffled as he thought it would be, barely loud enough to alert anyone within a four-foot radius to his whereabouts. Still, he didn’t relent. He screamed with everything. He screamed with his anger, he screamed with his disgust, he screamed with his confusion, and he even screamed with his sadness, the emotion he hadn’t felt since his mother had died.

When the blonde had waltzed into his physics class for the first time two weeks ago sporting a bright grin and gleaming eyes, Rown hadn’t known what to expect. It certainly wasn’t the charming and positively addictive person he ended up meeting. Elegant and beautiful Rowan had been unable to tear his eyes away from her, even as she deliberately placed herself in the seat next to him, shooting him a brilliant smile. Celeana had been wholly consuming, something Rowan was now kicking himself for, and the two had fallen into an easy conversation, him unable to hold up his usually angry exterior when it came to her. They had flirted- quite a lot, if he remembered correctly and despite his constant lacrosse practices, Rowan had even found himself agreeing to help her with her physics homework. It had only taken one word from her cursing Einstein and Rowan knew he was done for. He hadn’t gotten the chance to ask her out yet- he had meant to do it after his game today. So what in hellas was he doing here?

Rowan screamed until his throat gave out, his wide eyes never faltering as he stared in what was pure shock at Celeana across from him, who seemed to be doing nothing but gazing at him, her eyes cold and calculating, a contrast to the small quirk at the corner of her lips. By the time his throat gave out and his eyes yearned to drop shut in exhaustion, Celeana had closed her book and tucked the highlighter on top of her ear. She wasn’t watching him anymore; instead, her gaze was fixed next to him, to the person who most certainly held the gun to his head. A gun which Celeana seemed entirely unfazed by. If anything, her eyes seemed to sparkle more and the other side of her mouth pulled up before she said,

“I win, pay up.” A shift in sound and the gun behind him before a much deeper and older voice spoke now.

“Actually Miss, you said less than thirty minutes. I said less than ten. And it seems it was…” the gun was momentarily lifted from his head as the older man checked something on his arm, allowing him a sharp exhale. “Seven minutes. Which means, I won.” The corner of Celeana’s mouth pulled down in a frown and she glared at the person behind him.

“Oh, you’re no fun Brullo,” she sighed. “Fine. I-” she was cut off as he commenced screaming again, louder this time after he had taken a lungful of air. Her eyes widened for a smidge of a second in surprised shock which quickly faded into her smirk again. When he finished screaming this time, it was because Celeana was looking him straight in the eyes, her gaze more powerful than should be possible for a girl her age. And it told him everything he needed to know: he wasn’t going anywhere. The sound fell from his voice and he glared fire at the girl across from him who only rolled her eyes when he attempted to open his mouth again. Her own fire blazed back at him.

“Oh my god, are you done?” she asked in exasperation, the smirk no longer on her face, just pure teenage annoyance as she looked back at him. He was at a loss for words as she put her book down on the ground next to her boots and looked back at him. “Okay,” she said as if he was a wounded puppy she didn’t know how to approach. She wasn’t afraid, just wary. “I’m gonna take the gag off now and please, for the love of the gods, please Ro, don’t even try to scream. With as much as I love your mouth, and believe me, I really do,” she gave him a wink and he let out a growl laced with disgust and ignoring the electricity in his blood at the look she gave him. “I have no interest in hearing you any more than I have to today. Got it?”

He said nothing, his glare unwavering as Celeana stood from her chair and approached him, the gun to his head tensing as if the bearer was more alert than he had been a moment ago. Rowan wondered exactly how he was supposed to even move when his arms and legs were bound and just to prove it he went still as Celeana leaned forward, her blue eyes suddenly level with his as she reached towards the back of his head and untied the intricate knot in a quick movement of her hands. He attempted not to inhale her intoxicating scent- jasmine and lemon verbatim. She was back in her seat before Rowan could register the air on his mouth and he gulped down a few breaths as he looked at her again, unsurprised to find she was looking at him as well. His heart did a relay in his chest as his green eyes met her blue ones and she arched a brow, smirking again.

“Like what you see?” His answering glare said enough until the silence was too much.

“Who are you?” he growled and Celeana laughed coldly, either at him or something else, he didn’t know. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and Rowan tried not to focus on it.

“You know who I am,” was all she said.

“I thought you were Celeana but apparently I don’t know shit considering you kidnapped me and tied me to a chair.” His voice was ice as he snapped at her and Rowan enforced his point by shaking his arms and legs and wincing at the pain. Celeana’s gaze showed no sympathy or remorse for him and his heart sunk at the realization that he wasn’t surprised. He had no idea who this girl was, he realized. Celeana leaned back in her chair, her posture lazy once more, and began to mess with her nails. It was only then that Rowan realized they were dark red underneath and he swallowed, his gaze snapping up to Celeana’s. She followed his eyes with her own in a bemused way until realization struck her and her eyes widened.

“I- oh god, chill out, it’s just Taki dust,” she assured him, holding up a purple bag of spicy chips she pulled out from under the chair as evidence. She let out a huff of a laugh and shoved the open bag at him in a questioning gesture. She shoved one in her mouth before asking, “Want one?” Her voice was almost as muffled as his had been and he glared at her, his eyebrows shooting up to remind her of his arms and legs. “Fine,” she muttered. “Have it your way.” Celeana’s eyes shot up to the person behind Rowan as she dusted her fingers off and something flashed in her eyes before the light weight of the gun was removed from his temple. He exhaled.

“What do you want from me? My aunt will-”

“Spare me the family connections pretty boy, we’re not interested. I will say this, it isn’t personal.”

“Why the hell should I believe anything you said when everything you’ve said so far has been a lie?” he snapped, attempting to find some sort of ground.

“Well, that just isn’t true. I really do suck at physics, Ro,” she said smiling, pointing to the book at her feet. “Hawking is kicking my ass this year,” she grumbled and if she was anyone else he would have laughed.

“Don’t bullshit me, who the hell are you?” Her eyes sparkled at his defiance and he stiffened as the man who had been holding the gun to his head padded up next to Celeana. He was easily a foot and a half taller than her, making her look like nothing more than a tiny ant in comparison to him, and he had to be at least his aunt’s age. But the muscle that quivered beneath his leather jacket was enough of a difference for Rowan. Celeana’s grin grew.

“Are you gonna drop the ‘woe is me hero act’ any time soon? I’m just curious as to whether I should get some popcorn or not,” was all she replied.

“Pretty gutsy coming from a girl holding an innocent person against his will,” he snapped back. Faster than he could have thought possible Celeana’s playful expression had shriveled into cold hard menace, the look sending a spineful of shivers down his back and forcing his heart into his throat. Gone was the girl who enjoyed witty bantering. In her place was the monster he had painted her as from the moment he had opened his eyes. Rowan realized he should have taken laid-back Celeana when he had the chance because there was no doubt in his mind that the girl in front of him could and would end his life when given the chance.

Celeana’s posture stiffened and the hand that had been playing with her hair stilled as the man beside her placed a hand on her shoulder. Whether it was meant to be a warning or a comfort, Rowan didn’t know. Celeana’s face turned cold, her playful pretense officially vanishing.

She sneered and leaned forward on her elbows until they were almost nose to nose. Rowan refused to shrink back as much as he wanted to. The feeling coursing through his veins was unfamiliar to him: fear. “You know something, prince?” she asked. Her smirk was purely feral. “I don’t like you very much. And I’m not beyond beating your ass to prove it. So shut up, and do what you’re told and you might live.” With that, Celeana pushed her hands off of her knees and leaned back in her chair as if nothing had happened.

Rowan swallowed, knowing there was no point in hiding his fear of her. It was so strong she could probably smell it on him.

“Why am I here?” he snarled.

“That isn’t your concern, and frankly I don’t feel like explaining it to you.”

“Are you ever going to give me a straight answer?”

“Why would I, when you seem so hell-bent on hating me?” How could he explain to her that he wanted to, gods did he want to. And yet he could still feel his emotions attempting to fight him.

“Who are you?”

“You tell me. I think you know. I think that pretty face is for more than just looks.” He gulped at the realization that this wasn’t a dream. He was really sitting in a warehouse, bound to a chair, while full-fledged members of the mafia stared at him. He really hated his aunt sometimes.

“You don’t look like the rest of them. You’re-”

“Prettier? Smarter? Wittier? Tell me something I don’t know.” Celeana was picking at her nails again.

“So what are you supposed to be? Good cop?” Her answering smile chilled his bones.

“Something like that. It would help to tolerate me.”

“You try being friendly with the people holding you prisoner.” Celeana’s smile vanished.

“You’d be surprised.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Like I’d tell you.” Rowan was really wishing he had witty Celeana back because this one seemed to hate him just as much as he hated her. “Now I really suggest shutting the hell up with the questions before that bullet ends up between those pretty little eyes of yours.”

“Miss, your uncle called. He’ll be home at eight.” A chill went down his spine as Celeana’s face went white. He almost thought he was seeing things when something like fear flashed in her eyes for a moment before it was gone and replaced with her smirk again, this one which didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Well,” Celeana said, grunting as she stood up and hauled her backpack and book over her shoulder. “This has been fun, but I’m gonna have to leave you boys to it.” Rowan knew something was wrong when she blew him a kiss, barely looking over her shoulder as she opened the door to the warehouse, pausing with one foot out.

Celeana turned back to him, the side of her face even more beautiful in the reflecting moonlight. As her eyes met his, Rowan felt pinned in place by the intensity in her own.

“Aelin,” she said quietly. “My name is Aelin. My mom used to call me Celeana when we would sneak out of the house together,” she paused before adding, “It wasn’t all a lie.” With that, she silently slipped out the door, shutting it solidly behind her and leaving Celeana staring at the empty place where she had just been.

It wasn’t all a lie.

drink your water :)

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #celeana sardothien #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic #modern au #SJM

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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years

Text

Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)

Aaaand, part 4, the finale!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 29: You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.

Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.

Word count: 5.1k

Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place.

Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.

“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement.

“You’ve been humming for half an hour!”

He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.

“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the-”

“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”

Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time.

“Okay, but what does that ha-”

“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds.

“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table.

“I- I don’t-”

Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal.

“You’re my soulmate!”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed.

“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”

Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.

-----

Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he’d met his soulmate.

He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years.

His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket.

It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-

No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.

Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!

His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer.

“Hey, kiddo?”

Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting.

“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”

Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched.

“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”

Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath.

“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”

He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.

“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”

Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.

“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

-----

Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug.

The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute.

“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing.

“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went.

Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…

“Virgil, hold these for me.”

When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.

“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”

He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.

The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet.

“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you nonverbal?”

“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”

“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”

“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.

“It’s a guy.”

“How did that go?”

“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”

Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table.

“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis.

“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”

“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”

Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”

His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”

“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.

“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”

“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.

“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”

“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”

Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”

“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.

“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”

-----

V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.

R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!

V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.

R: I still feel bad DX

“He feels bad, what do I do?!”

“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”

“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”

V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?

R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!

V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.

“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”

“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”

“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”

R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.

“...That’s not what I expected.”

“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”

“Seconded.”

V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now.

R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was.

R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?

“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”

“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”

“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”

“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”

V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.

R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that

V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now.

R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma.

V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that.

R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.

V: No, I’m okay.

R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all.

“I… oh. He’s… wow.”

“I agree with your sentiment.”

“I like this boy already.”

“DAD!”

R: Your dad’s a prof?

V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?

R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.

V: Lol he thinks he knows you

R: You have two dads?

V: Yep

R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.

V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?

R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND.

V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by

One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in.

-----

In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.

He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”

“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”

Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”

“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.

“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”

Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.

“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.

“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”

“Hello.”

“Salutations.”

“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.

“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”

“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”

“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”

“I’ll start it if I want to!”

The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone.

“He’s all grown up.”

“That he is, my love.”

-----

Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket.

“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”

To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.

“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”

Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”

“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies.

“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”

Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back.

“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself.

“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better.

Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers.

They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”

“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands.

“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”

“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”

Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”

“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”

“Why?”

“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”

“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard.

Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”

“How many kids were in the home?”

“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”

“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda.

“My foster homes weren’t better.”

“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid.

“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”

Roman grimaced.

“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”

“You were a kid, Virgil.”

“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”

Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued.

Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food.

“I…”

Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.

“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little.

“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.

“What?”

“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”

“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.

“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought.

“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…”

“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster.

“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”

Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness.

“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions.

“And me calling you amazing…”

“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while.

Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process.

Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas.

Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist.

@sapphic-satan

@anxious-logic

@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

@extraintrovertedalien

@punk-academian-witch

@ray-does-stuff

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@green-call

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanderssides #sanderssidesau #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #ts soulmate au

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snek-snacc-ficc · 4 years

Text

Alone Together

Summary: Janus is gone and Remus is alone. The other sides clearly have more important things to do and discuss and Logan is forgotten. In the aftermath of Putting Others First the two find each other in their shared pain.

He was happy for him.

That's what he just had to keep telling himself. Janus revealed his name and he was accepted. That's all Janus ever wanted and because of that he was happy for him.

Now if only Remus could make himself actually believe that.

Janus had appeared back in the dark side of the mindscape, relaying everything that had happened with a sort of utter gleeful glow that Remus had only ever seen once before on Virgil just months before he packed up and left for good. He’d smiled along with him, cracked a few jokes at his brother's expense, pretended that the sick, twisted feeling in his gut was just from that glass of dish soap and drain cleaner he’d drank earlier, and left with an excuse that spilled out of his mouth like he was on autopilot.

Janus didn’t notice the way his face slowly fell before completely crumbling as he sunk out.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been seated on the rotting, damp tree stump staring off at nothing in the dim light of the Imagination. His cheeks were red and raw from constantly wiping away the streams of tears falling down his face, but the slight sting of pain was a comforting distraction in a way, so he reached up once more.

He froze his movement immediately though, hearing the sound of footsteps crunching over god knows what was on the forest floor. His heart skipped a beat and as much as he hated himself for it he couldn’t stop the tiny bit of hope rising up in his chest that maybe, just maybe, when he turned around Janus would be there laughing over how Remus had fallen for his lie hook line and sinker, and apologize for how he had made him cry over a silly little prank.

What he saw instead was a face that looked just as shocked to see him as he was to see it, a pair of eyes wet and shining behind thick black lenses in the moonlight.

“What are you doing here?” He meant for it to come out as a growl but it ended up sounding more surprised than anything, his voice cracking pathetically as he spoke.

Logan cleared his throat, trying to retain a sense of composure that Remus saw right through. He averted his blood shot eyes to the ground, off to the side, anywhere but on Remus. It felt more off putting than it should have to watch the only side that had had the gull to challenge him struggle to even look his way.

“I apologize Remus. I was merely out for a walk and I suppose I wasn’t paying attention to where I was. It was not my intention to intrude so if you’ll excuse me I’ll be on my w-”

“NO!”

The yell ripped through Remus before he could even process the fact that he was speaking. Logan paused, eyes wide, and now locked onto him.

Remus hesitated, unsure of what to say or even how to begin to voice an explanation of the squirming maggot-ball of emotions inside of him right now. But something in the back of his mind told him that he needed somebody-anybody to just feel the presence of, and if Logan walked away the opportunity for that would go with him.

“I,” he finally spoke, “I mean, you can stick around here if you want. Its dark as fuck, something could jump out of nowhere and rip your head off.”

Logan didn’t point out the fact that, as a figment in the mindscape, other imaginary creatures weren’t really a threat to him, and instead sunk down next to Remus, ignoring the uncomfortable moisture on the stump. He let out a deep, shaky breath, feeling the weight of his exhaustion and emotional overload wash over him for the first time since the end of the video.

The two sat there in numbing silence, only broken by their uneven breathing, for an amount of time that was lost on them. It was Remus that was the one to eventually speak up.

“You guys better take care of Janus.”

Logan turned to him, a slight look of realization crossing his face before he let out a half hearted weary laugh.

“They will “take care of him” as you put it, I’m sure,” he said. “I on the other hand don’t believe any efforts on my behalf would even be noticed.”

It was Remus’s turn to give a look of understanding.

“They’re your “friends” though, aren’t they? In a few days you’ll all kiss and make up and shit, right?”

“...I’m not so sure anymore. It's to my understanding that Virgil was a friend of yours too at one point.”

It wasn’t a jab, Remus could tell there was no malice in his voice, just a statement to prove his point. Yet with everything that had already happened that day the tiny, painful reminder was enough to knock down the dam he had been struggling to build up, and a forceful flow of fresh tears came flooding out once more. He let out a choked sob, tossing aside the last remaining pieces of his torn up pride and throwing himself into Logan’s arms.

“They’re all gone,” he hiccuped, “J-Janus and Virgil, and-and R-Ro-”

His words were taken over by another sob as he buried his face in Logan’s chest, clutching onto him desperately like his life depended on it.

“They left me,” he struggled to get out in a voice barely above a whisper, “I’m all alone.”

The sudden rush of emotion did it in for Logan as well. He wrapped his arms around Remus’s shaking form, tears of his own slipping out uncontrollably.

“Please,” Remus muttered, “don’t leave.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

They were both tired, lonely, and forgotten, but, as they sat there, grasping at each other’s warmth and presence, they were all those things together, and in that moment it was comfort enough.

#sanders sides #intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #remus angst #logan angst

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naturesgender · 3 years

Text

hello long emotional post alert under the cut. this is another one of those posts where if u see it i need u to like it or tell me u have seen it or Something because the idea of not knowing who i've been vulnerable with tonight is paralyzing. i think i'm gonna make a tag for these so irl friends please watch out for that

god i fucking hate. literally HATE myself for the way i interact with people sometimes

i pop on the internet all the fucking time and post about how i love my friends and i'm able to say i love you so much that it loses its meaning and i'm even able to say "yeah i love my friends i feel totally comfortable being myself around them i feel safe and secure to be vulnerable and express my feelings <3"

and i do love my friends. i really love my friends. they make me laugh like no one else they are so brilliant they've shown me so many wonderful things and i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them

but the second it's time to actually be vulnerable? to be truly honest about how i'm doing or to let someone know that they're upsetting me or really express how much someone means to me? to take a risk and go out on a limb with an emotion that feels Dangerous and Awkward and Wrong and Too Much, even if that's just telling someone that i miss them? i can't do it. i cannot do it. i cannot let myself believe that i am not too much.

and it's so fucked up because all i want. literally all i want and all i need is to be a part of relationships that are built on emotional honesty and mutual care and safety and security, and i can tell myself that i have that all i want and in a lot of ways i genuinely feel like i do have that. but the second it's time for me to give someone a piece of my heart i can't do it because what if they don't take it? or worse, what if they don't reciprocate? both in the sense of "what if they don't reciprocate the love i have for them in the same way and to the same degree or what if they ignore my vulnerability entirely" and in the sense of "what if even if i've been vulnerable and they've accepted whatever feelings i've given them in way that's made me feel seen, they don't want to be vulnerable in the same way? even if i'm somehow able to bring myself to un-bottle everything i keep so carefully filed away even though it makes me feel like a fucking Coward, what if they don't want to do the same?"

and how my friends express their feelings is completely up to them. i know this. i want to respect their boundaries and what they share is completely up to them and no one is obligated to be an open book and i feel like such an awful person for wanting this so badly but i have been in relationships where the vulnerability is one-sided and it is Awful and i never want to go through that again or inflict that on anyone

and perhaps for a more selfish reason, i need to be known. i need people to see every part of me and Still be able to say "i love you and i want you around and you are important to me." and i think i need to know, too. i can't quite put my finger on an explanation of why but i need to know other people too

but if i can't force myself to be brave it's never going to happen. if i can't start letting myself be Known and trusting that maybe someone will want to be Known too, it's never going to happen and i'm going to be stuck constantly feeling a mix of being the most seen i've ever been and not being seen at all. i am so lucky to have friends who love me the way they do and i feel like such an awful person for wanting more and it’s like. is “i miss you” really that hard to say? is “i think about you all the time” really that hard to say? is “you make me feel at home” really that hard to say? yes it is

uhh that was long. who knows if i'm even gonna post this cause i know irl friends will see it and that is. literally terrifying and i am incredibly anxious rn but who knows. maybe i'll delete it maybe i won't maybe it'll never get posted maybe i'll pin it if i'm that desperate for attention. if any irl friends see this please know i am trying. i don't know what i need and i don't know how much to ask you for and i don't know how much to give you and i don't know how to communicate and i am Trying. this is me trying.

#emotional piece of shit time with ro #please like/comment/tell me if you read

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willgrahymn · 3 years

Text

Strangely Estranged

this is my gift to @romansandersprotectionsquad for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange!! I really hope you like it :]

Description: Remus just wants to make his art, but Roman is still distressed by the events of SvS Redux/POF and it's affecting both of their abilities to create. When Remus goes to confront him about it, he gets a little more than he bargained for. Content warnings: Some Remus being Remus-y type lines, blood mentions (again, Remus), a good amount of swearing, and throwing some shade at Janus. Word count: 2747 I’ll rb with the ao3 link :]

- ’Honestly,’ Remus thought, ‘this painting could use more blood.’

He stared at the incomplete project. It was at least the 7th time he started on something today, but no matter what he always came to a pause.

Roman, that motherfucker, he probably had a creative block. Remus didn’t care much about only being half of Creativity, hell, it was fun coming up with the most gory stories he could imagine, but it seemed like whenever Roman hit a block he just had to drag him down with him.

He leaned back against his wall, tossing his paintbrush and catching it again. He stuck the brush in his mouth. Blue paint didn’t taste as good as green, but maybe he was just biased.

Remus glared at the painting. If it had eyes, he was sure they would be staring back, mocking him. Maybe he’d scrap the thing and use it as a target next time he played with his throwing stars.

He ground his foot into the stained carpet. Whether it was paint or blood didn’t matter. Come to think of it, he’d been at a pause for some time now. Roman hadn’t left his room nearly as much either. The only people he’d seen Roman hang out with recently were Virgil, Logan, and (inescapably) Thomas. Then there was Patton and Janus who hardly spent time together before. Now they never left each other's sides. Remus would be a liar if he said it wasn’t somewhat upsetting.

Remus loved drama. He loved watching people fight and be seconds from either murdering each other or making out right then and there. It was exciting to see people so close to their limit. Roman’s drama wasn’t fun though, it was just fucking sad.

He was pretty sure it would stay that way unless he took matters into his own hands. He grabbed his morningstar. He didn’t think he’d actually use it, but if he had to literally knock some sense into his dear brother, then so be it.

Walking down the hall of the mind palace the lighting got brighter. Silently, he wondered how the hell Virgil had managed to live with the other three for so long. With Roman’s obnoxiously loud personality and old villain accusations, he doubted the rogue raccoon could’ve slept the day away like he did when he tried to avoid him.

He stood in front of a tall, white door. It looked like something you’d find in a children’s movie or fairy tale that told the protagonist there was some sort of grand adventure on the other side…

How boring.

Without bothering to knock, Remus opened the door to his brother's room. Maybe for Janus, he would have knocked. There was hardly anything that could truly shock him anymore with all the fun little fantasies that ran through his head, but Janus’ wrath was something he would save for a day when he needed that extra kick.

Then again, maybe he was wrong to say that he couldn't be shocked. Not when Prince Perfect’s room was such a mess. Not when one of his mirrors had been knocked to the floor. And certainly not when he took in the sight of the other half of Creativity, sitting there at the side of his bed in his black undershirt and dress pants.

Something in Remus’ guts told him there was something wrong here, and this time it wasn’t because he had been impaled or ate something Logan and Janus insisted he shouldn’t have. No, this was something else. Something he hadn’t been allowed to see since the two split up. One brother deciding he needed to be pure as white, and the other allowing himself to be the darkest black imaginable.

He stepped closer. Roman hadn’t made a sound, not yet, but it felt like approaching a lion. A lion that stood for courage yet fell to shattered pieces of what it once was.

And maybe if he hadn’t been feeling real, genuine concern for something other than Thomas’ lack of flare in his art, he would have laughed when his mind went to Scar and Mufasa.

It wasn’t like he cared though. Concern, maybe. But he couldn’t be bothered to care for his brother who he hardly ever spoke to for purposes other than making him uncomfortable with his ideas.

Roman shifted on his bed, still not bothering to look to see who entered. “I already told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

Remus rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would choose to be a little bitch about this.

“First off, you didn’t tell me shit.” He said. Roman sat up, looking at him. A mix of defense and curiosity in his glare. “Second, I’m not the one making your life any harder than I normally would.” His brother scoffed. “Aren’t you though?”

“You’re the one affecting my work!”

Roman huffed, pulling his legs up to his chest and hugging them closely. He liked the pressure. Logan would probably be able to tell him why if he asked. He remembered hearing a conversation between him and Virgil when the darker first showed up. Something about pressure was a stress reliever.

At the same time, Remus crossed his arms, tapping his boots and rubbing his fingers against his sleeves. Whatever response he had been waiting for didn’t come. Maybe he should leave. Pretend whatever this was wasn’t happening and go focus on something else until the other half got his shit together. That would be a lot easier than standing here, the air of the room suffocating him into silence.

Either way, neither brother knew what to say. It would be easy for the pensive prince to turn around, to tell the other not to speak to him and to go back to wherever he came from. At least it should have been.

Remus bit down on his lip not minding the pain. It wouldn’t do any good to try to beat at what was already broken. “I can go find someone else.” It was more of a statement than an offer.

His twin tensed. “Please don’t.”

Remus just nodded. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Normally he didn’t have to think this hard. He didn’t want to care about his brother and his problems. He knew at least part of the reason behind the other’s mood was because of him because Roman hated him and being compared to him. Yet still, despite being twins he couldn’t help but feel like he had to care for his baby brother.

‘What the fuck am I supposed to do now?’

He was Dark Creativity, the embodiment of intrusive thoughts and other so-called disturbing ideas and imagery. It wasn’t something that ever upset him, and hell it was fun making the other Sides and Thomas uncomfortable. It was fun telling Patton things that would make him shift in his seat and try to change the topic as if nothing had happened. It was fun to create thoughts that would fuel anxiety and haunt the sad little Side who harbored them. It was more than amusing to sit beside Roman, watching as he tried to do his work and ignore his bothersome brother’s constant suggestions that ruined his fairytale fantasies.

If Thomas didn’t want to use all the available ingredients he gave him to create that was fine. He could manage just fine! Really, the repression only made him stronger.

But Roman knew how to make people feel those warm fuzzy feelings that were like caterpillars in your ribs. Something that looking at it now, maybe Remus regretted not trying to pick up on the wholesome little messages that his brother always cared about. At least maybe then he’d have a better idea how to deal with all of these emotions going on. Even Logan would have done better in this situation.

His brother sighed, sitting up and turning to finally face him. He looked worse than expected. No wonder he didn’t want to see anyone else. Remus couldn’t tell what he was feeling, taking in the sight of this mess. Roman’s brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his nails digging into his skin.

“Why are you still here?” He asked.

Remus bit his lip and chose to ignore the question. “I know you’re pissed about Jan being accepted.”

“Yeah duh,” Roman scoffed. He sounded like a dam ready to break. “Excuse me for not being absolutely overjoyed at this… Manipulative Malefactor being accepted by our very own Moralidad.”

The Duke nodded. Sure, you could call him friends with Double D, but he wasn’t going to be like him and lie and deny that Janus certainly had… a way… of getting what he wanted, whether it meant using others as a stepping stone or not.

“I never should have trusted him.” Roman continued. “I mean, I never even liked him. Hell, right after he revealed himself to Thomas I said I hated him… I only went along with what he wanted because he pretended to be someone I’m supposed to be able to trust, and then he used me again by flattering me with fake love and bringing up Thomas’ dreams. And I just– I just keep falling for it because I’m an idiot and I keep fucking everything u—”

He hadn’t noticed Remus approaching him or pulling him into a hug until it happened.

It was tense at first. Roman froze at contact. Slowly, he sunk into his brother's arms, not caring about the way the material scratched against his face. He just wanted to feel safe.

“What’s happening?” He asked.

Remus wasn’t sure he had an answer.

“I think Patton would refer to it as brotherly bonding, but I really don’t know.” Remus laughed lightly.

Eventually, Remus slowly pushed his brother off of him, still holding onto his shoulders and smiling in a way he could only hope came off as sympathetic. On any other occasion, Roman would despise the fact that his brother was just the tiniest bit taller than him, but right now he didn’t care. He wouldn’t tell him it was good for hugs though, he hadn’t lost all of his dignity.

“Listen, Ro-bro, we’re twins. What affects you affects me too. I know it might not change much, and you might still not want to be around me. That’s fine. Just… remember that we’re two Sides in a trenchcoat trying to make up for one, got it?” Roman nodded, rubbing at his eyes and smiling slightly. “I would have expected a darker way of phrasing that from you.”

Remus shook his head. “I may not think much, but I do know enough to understand it’s probably not the best timing for it.”

He smiled, watching as his brother lightened up a bit.

The room was still a mess. They’d have to fix it up later. Not right now though, he didn’t think his brother was ready enough to face his own destruction.

“C’mon, get your outfit on.” “Huh?” “You weren’t planning to stay locked up in here like Rapunzel all day, were you?” “I mean… kind of, yeah?” Remus shook his head. “Not happening,” He said. “We gotta do some dumb shit to make you feel better.” “Ree, I’m fine now, really.”

He ignored him, grabbing Roman’s stupidly bright white shirt off the floor and throwing it at him. Checking around for his sash afterwards.

“You at least gotta put yourself together! I know how you are about your looks– even if mine are better.”

Roman rolled his eyes before pulling his shirt on, grabbing his sash from under his pillow. “I can’t stand you.” They both knew it wasn’t the truth. Not right now at least.

“I’m going to fix… this.” Roman said as he waved his hand in front of his face.

The prince left to his bathroom, grabbing some of his makeup from his desk as he went. Remus flopped onto his brother's bed. This wasn’t exactly where he expected his day to go. It was fine though. Actually, it probably went a lot better than whatever he originally planned. Bitching at Roman could be fun, but he doubted it would have made anything better. Hopefully getting rid of some emotional block would stop the art block too. It sounded like something Logic would approve of.

Remus stared up at the glow in the dark stars that littered his brother’s ceiling. Roman’s room was less loud than usual. More quiet. Like a heartbeat that once echoed so loudly had suddenly stopped, or a fire which finally died out leaving nothing but smoke and ash behind.

He heard it when the faucet turned on, when a hairbrush hit the floor, and when Roman cursed at his eyeliner.

‘His hands must be shaky.’ They’d have to fix that.

Remus got up again, half-assedly making his brother’s bed and tidying up the place. He didn’t know where everything went, so he could only hope he was putting stuff where it shouldn’t have ever been. Even if he was trying to cheer up his brother now didn’t mean he couldn’t work in advance to cause trouble for him later.

When Roman came out he looked as if nothing had happened. Like nobody would be able to look at him and think twice of if he was okay. It was an art in itself to be a raging storm and to settle down to the tranquility of dewdrops on flower petals within a matter of minutes.

When had he learned to do that?

Or maybe it was just that he didn’t spend enough time around the other to know. Maybe if one of the other Sides saw Roman now, they wouldn’t even have to study his movements or expression to know he had been upset. It would be as easy as looking at him and recognizing the scripted smiles and rehearsed words for what they were. Was he really that bad at being a brother to fall for his own twins’ tricks?

Roman shifted on his feet. “So… What are we doing?”

“Oh!” Remus bounced, the beads on his shirt clicking together. “Well I was thinking about it earlier and since Papa Patton and Daddy Dee are spending so much time together–” “Never call them that ever again.” “You never let me have fun! But fine. You know how those two have been hanging out more.”

“I can’t let you do anything mean to Patton, he’s off limits.”

Remus pouted. “I thought you were mad at him!” “He’s Patton!” Remus glared, and Roman glared back.

Remus sighed. “You’re so lame, but I guess we can just focus on the snake. Oh! And don’t worry, I can take the fault. Besides, I haven’t fucked around with him in a while and have been waiting for a good day to do it.” He grinned. Roman would have considered it evil, but this, this was pure sibling mischief. “I was thinking we could start subtle like moving his shit 2 inches to the left and work our way up from there. I was thinking about leaving my pet rats in his room and letting them go wild, but he is a snake and I don’t trust like that…”

Roman tried to stifle a laugh. Remus tried not to smile. Remus turned away, heading to his room to put his abandoned work away before anything else. Roman, he noticed, hadn’t followed. Slowly, he turned to him. “Are you coming?” “Oh, yeah I just...“ Roman paused, taking a deep breath and smiling softly. A real smile, not the mask he had given before. “Thank you. For doing all this.” Remus’ eyes softened, nodding as he spoke again. “Don’t go getting too soft on me, Ro-bro. I’m still going to attack your side of the Imagination.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” The two brothers stood there, an awkward yet comfortable quiet moment of understanding neither wanted to interrupt. “C’mon,” Remus said, waving his brother along. “We have vengeance in our hearts and glitter in our pockets. Let’s fuck shit up.”

The prince glanced to himself in the mirror. Now wasn’t the time to focus on his shattered world view, or how his brother may not be as horrible as he thought. Now was the time to have fun messing with the one who had messed with him.

He looked to his brother, eyes sparkling. “Let’s do it.”

#Sanders Sides #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #Creativitwins #platonic creativitwins #aaa #I hope this is good #Virgil's Volumes

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