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coconut-cluster · 6 years

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Fraught With Jealousy

Here’s the oneshot i promised that ended up about 3x longer than i meant to make it, whoops enjoy [ao3 link] (based off this post by @repressedyeemo05)

A sheet of rain had covered Roman’s view in the Commons since early afternoon; the sun had abandoned its post that morning and had yet to return, charcoal clouds taking its place in the sky. Usually, Roman would have professed his undying love to the missing sunshine in the vain hope that it would return, but today he simply watched it fall outside the window near his usual corner. It seemed a little too appropriate for him to ignore.

The living room of the mindscape was unusually empty - Logan had confined himself to his room to correct the latest script with almost painful scrutiny, and Patton and Virgil had long since disappeared for some ‘quality bonding time’ in the Imagination for the day, so Roman had the Commons all to himself and his laptop.

His eyes had started to sting around an hour ago; the laptop screen was merciless in the gray light of the den no matter how low he turned the brightness, but he forged on, scrolling further and further on Tumblr. He didn’t even have an account - Tumblr wasn’t really his thing, although he did adore the art and aesthetics the site’s users offered - but after the last video, he couldn’t help himself. The Sides were easy to find. All he’d had to do was type ‘Roman’ and his name popped up in the suggestions; it had provide somewhat high hopes for what he’d find, hopes that had been dashed as soon as he clicked.

“Roman was so obnoxious in the musical episode - it was Logan’s time to shine and he just had to take the spotlight???”

“lmao i used to say ‘i love all the sides equally’ but after that its kinda clear that i dont like roman”

“Ro always beat on Virgil for being the bad guy, kinda ironic ig”

He’d been scrolling for hours. There were positive posts littered throughout - posts about his creative skills, his fanciful relatability, even some fanart - and he’d saved them with a vigor he didn’t care to recall, but the relief he felt upon seeing them crumbled at the overload of criticism. It’s not as if he didn’t agree, but what made it worse was the sheer amount of praise for the other Sides.

Don’t get him wrong; the other Sides deserved it, but he… didn’t he, as well?

Did he?

Roman swallowed - his mouth was devoid of moisture, but he could barely tear his eyes away from the screen to get a drink.

He was at a loss. What had he done to incite this reaction in such loyal fans? No, they weren’t loyal to him, they were loyal to Thomas. They had no obligation to love him. But he wanted them to, he thought he’d proven his worth to them on so many occasions, and now… now he was the lowest of the low, probably under Jack the Fibber himself.

He registered the soft padding behind him, footsteps like wisps of a breeze he could no longer feel, soft and quickly approaching. A pit formed in his stomach a split second before he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, would you look at that,” a voice behind him breathed, just as hushed as the footsteps - it was raspy, as if the speaker hadn’t spoken in years. “How unfortunate.” It was a clear statement, but the voice lilted it into a question that Roman couldn’t answer.

He didn’t turn his head, kept his eyes glued to the screen. He was still excavating the depths of his unpopularity.

“What to do?” the voice continued, and Roman felt the scratch of fabric against his jacket as its owner crouched down beside him. “They adored you at the beginning, and now you’re here.” Roman watched the posts fly up the screen, all documenting his slights, his mistakes, his shortcomings, all in front of his searing eyes. “You’ve let them down, Roman.”

Roman finally glanced to his side.

He was crouched beside him, brown eyes underlined with dark green, an exhausted effect that made his eyes wider, alert. He wore a leather sleeveless jacket, the hood falling down his back, even darker and more colorless than Virgil’s old outfit. He gripped Roman’s shoulder for balance as he stared at the screen with a careful perusal that made Roman’s stomach turn in knots.

“Well, well, well,” the boy said slowly, grabbing Roman’s hand and yanking it to the mouse. “Scroll.”

Roman scrolled. It was still the same, endless scrutiny of his character. He screwed his eyes shut. He’d seen enough for today.

He heard muffled scuttling. The boy’s arm slid across Roman’s chest, pinning him to the chair; his other hand cupped Roman’s chin. “Look, Roman.” Roman kept his eyes shut - he’d seen enough, it was enough now- “Look!”

He looked.

It was a paragraph - no, more than one, at least three, from what he could see in the screen’s berth - all about him. One word stuck out to him: villain. Him. He was the villain.

“What are you to do, Princey?” the boy asked, his voice tight with venom and what sounded to Roman like panic. “How can you be trusted to help Thomas if you can’t even keep the love of a few strangers over a screen?” Roman tried to force words out, but his throat was Saharan, arid and empty. “They’ll be gone by the next video. You can’t let that happen.” The voice shook with a violent tremor.

Roman’s gaze traveled to the boy’s face; he stared back with careful blankness, but his eyes were sharp as Roman hesitated.

“No,” Roman whispered. He cleared his throat, starting to stand. He needed to talk to Thomas. “No, I can prove myself to them, I can do better for them-”

“Clearly you cannot,” the boy spat, shoving Roman back in the chair with a force that contrasted so drastically from his hushed voice that Roman nearly fell over. “You’ve been given an awful lot of chances to prove yourself, Roman!” He let out a small breath as Roman leaned away, his eyes wide. “You need to step out. You need someone to make things better.” Roman opened his mouth to protest but the boy continued, “Unless you’d like to lose the last people who believe in you?”

Roman looked at the screen again, at the saved posts singing his praises.

“You saw how quickly Logan bested you. Think how quickly the rest will dissipate after the last video - you can’t lose them. I’ll help you.”

“...How?”

Roman felt a sudden tug from his center, a pull upwards - Thomas was summoning the Sides, summoning him. The boy noticed and smiled. “Perfect! You can stay here for a bit, can’t you?”

He watched as Roman frowned, and his grin morphed into a grotesque scowl, twisted and malicious. “Do you really need me to spell it out for you? You can’t risk this, Roman. Logan has already stolen your spot as a favorite. Think about what will happen if you mess it up more! You’ll have nothing.” His voice turned vicious, dripping with unbridled panic and irritation. “I won’t argue, Roman. If you won’t believe me, I’ll take things into my own hands.” He snapped, and Roman’s world turned dark.

“I do hope Roman has a reason to be late,” Logan huffed, his arms crossed over his chest as he glowered at the empty corner.

“Well… maybe he’s planning a fun entrance,” Patton said, his eyes lighting up. “He is awfully interested in dramatic, er, stuff!” He watched the corner expectantly with a bright smile that faltered as it remained empty after a minute.

Virgil snickered. “Roman, dramatic? Never.”

“Well,” Thomas said, biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands, “He better do it soon. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Why? Is there something wrong?” Logan returned to his straight posture and turned his alert eyes to Thomas.

“Not really… just some friends coming over tomorrow, but Jon-”

“Oh dear, is this a love thing?” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose as Thomas nodded slowly.

“AW, Thomas!” Patton squealed. “You have a crush on Jon?!”

Thomas frowned, worry seeping into his brown eyes. “Yes, and I really hope Roman gets here SOON,” he said, raising his voice towards the end, eyeing Roman’s corner. “Where is he?”

As if on cue, the fanciful side leapt up from the mindscape, his hair slightly messy but otherwise untouched. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, his voice uneven.

Virgil raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “Did Princey just apologize? What is this, the Twilight Zone?” His smile dimmed as Roman just simpered, leaving the air devoid of a snarky reply.

“Right,” Logan said drily, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the pair. “Well, had you arrived when the rest of us had - on time, that is - you would already be ready to discuss Thomas’ problem.” He nodded curtly to Thomas. “Continue.”

“Some friends are coming over,” Thomas said quickly, glancing at the door with wide eyes, wringing his wrists. “Jon will be with them and I really don’t want to mess it up.”

“Well, you just gotta be yourself, kiddo!” Patton encouraged with a smile, clasping his hands together over his chest.

“But what if myself isn’t good enough?”

“Jon is already your friend, Thomas - why would he still like you if you’re personality is inadequate for his tastes?” Logan said with an air of obviousness. Patton sent him a cryptic glance.

“Oh,” Thomas said simply. “I… I guess, but-”

“But he could mess up,” Virgil supplied, staring evenly at Thomas’ flustered face. Thomas nodded.

“Mess up how, exactly?” Logan asked.

“He could say something dumb,” Virgil said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, “or he could offend someone, or they could decide they hate him-”

"Why would they do that?"

Virgil just shrugged. "People are fickle. Never know when they'll just decide to get up and leave."

"Well, thank you for that, Virgil," Thomas quipped, his eyebrows lowering as his fidgeting increased, sporadic and jittery like a child after too much sugar.

Virgil hesitated. He chewed on his thumbnail as he watched Thomas panic. "It's just a thought." Logan perked up again.

"Precisely," he said. "Just-"

Patton interjected, "You've got nothing to worry about, Thomas! I'm sure he already likes you too - go get 'em!"

‎"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Logan said with a frown. "We should be careful until we're completely sure of Jon's feelings toward Thomas.”

‎"Logan, I think I know what I'm talking about - I'm the heart, remember?"

‎"Yes, but you do have a track record of being somewhat excitable-”

‎"Oh, so you've noticed that?" Patton's smile diminished slightly as he spoke.

‎"I beg your pardon?"

‎"Oh, nothing, just a thought."

‎Logan's frown deepened, his face pinched with annoyance. "Please do share, Patton." Thomas' gaze swiveled between them.

‎"Well-"

‎"Roman," Virgil said suddenly, his eyes trained in the fanciful side, whose eyes followed Patton and Logan with a hollow hunger. He straightened up with alarming celerity at his name. "You're being real quiet. You have anything to say about all this?" Virgil's voice was rounded with caution but it bordered on accusatory, dark and inquisitive.

‎"Oh." Roman glimpsed around the room, licking his lips. "I- agree with Patton," he said slowly, his face stone. He was met with four dubious stares.

‎"That was... succinct," Thomas commented.

‎"Roman, is everything-" Logan coughed and pulled his deck of index cards from his pockets, shuffling through with thinly veiled perplexion before landing on one, "'Gucci'?"

‎Roman smiled - it was miniscule, like he was afraid it would shatter if he went any further. "Of course not!" He blinked and tilted his head to the side as he reconsidered the question, his eyes tracing the air. "I mean of course."

‎Logan hummed. "You're acting somewhat differently than usual."

‎Patton snickered.

‎Logan's gaze snapped to him and he huffed, "What, Patton? Is something funny?"

‎Patton reeled back slightly, his shoulder brushing the blinds as his freckled face darkened. "Yeah. I think it's kinda funny that you notice when Roman is acting off as soon as he says one thing. That's a little weird, doncha think?"

‎"And why is that?” ‎"Well, it took you nearly half an hour to notice Deceit. Not very good for you, Logic."

‎Logan froze, his eyebrows knit and mouth slightly open as he stared at Patton. He looked at a loss for words. "What?"

Patton’s lip quivered, “Well, you act so smart all the time, and yet you didn’t realize one of us was a fake? How did that make you feel, Logan?”

“Patton-”

‎"Don't Patton me! You couldn't be bothered to notice I wasn't me, Logan. Did you even realize I've been avoiding you? I haven't talked to you in weeks!" Patton's voice cracked, a dam bursting after weeks of tension pounding hard enough against its stone. "Did you even notice?"

‎Logan stared with wide eyes; he opened and closed his mouth like a fish a few times before he was able to speak. "I-" He swallowed thickly, adjusting his tie with shaking hands, "I didn't realize you felt that way-" Patton's shoulders fell. "I mean- those feelings are justified! I understand- well, I don’t necessarily understand, but I-” His statured demeanor fell in an instant, his eyes flooded with a hodpodge of emotions so unlike him, and his gaze fell to the floor. “I’m sorry, Patton.” He shuffled in his spot, glancing around quickly. “In all honesty, I thought you’d grown tired of me over the last few weeks and that is the reason you stopped interacting with me. It didn’t occur to me that Deceit’s actions had such a strong effect on either of us. I should have paid more attention to your- feelings. I’m… sorry.”

Patton watched him, his bottom lip set in a deliberate pout, but a tiny, relieved smile made its way to his face quite easily, his eyes glistening but bright. “Thank you, Logan.” Logan glanced up at him and smiled back, small and genuine just for him.

“That was beautiful,” Thomas squeaked through his hands, a tear almost escaping his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, his voice flat. Patton and Logan both glanced at him.

His eyes had never left Roman. The prince’s gaze was clouded as he watched the others, filled with a ravenous vacuity that made Patton jump when it transferred to him.

“Princey?” Virgil watched Roman with a gaze so intense that he wouldn’t have been surprised if he felt it, but Roman didn’t turn at the nickname. “Roman.”

Finally his gaze flickered to Virgil. “What?” Before Virgil could answer, Roman looked around the living room slowly, deliberately, and turned to Thomas. “When are we filming the next video?”

Thomas frowned. “Um... three or four days.” Roman paused and considered that. “Why?”

“What’s wrong, Roman?” Virgil leveled his stare at the prince. “Worried about the cameras?”

“Of course not,” Roman said quickly, but his eyes trailed too far behind his voice as he surveyed the room again. “Why should I be- would. Why would I be?”

“You’d want to look good for Thomas’ fans.” Virgil examined his chewed nails with raised eyebrows. “Not that many of them like you.”

“Virgil!” Patton put his hands on his hips, his eyes wide as he regarded the nonchalant anxious side with blatant surprise. “There’s no need to be mean!”

“Yes, I thought you and Roman had been getting along rather well recently,” Logan said with a furrowed brow as he adjusted his glasses further up his nose.

“Excuse me?” Roman’s voice was hushed suddenly; Virgil almost missed it against the rain outside, pounding against the thin walls of Thomas’ apartment and resounding through the room as a faint echo.

Virgil repeated carefully, “I said, not many of the fans like you.”

“And what? They do you?”

“More than you.”

Roman’s eyes flashed with anger, and Virgil saw what he’d been looking for.

“Hello, Zeb.”

The prince’s face drained of color, a pallor painting his normally tan skin; his face screwed up in a sudden snarl. “Virgil.”

And his figure distorted, warping and twisting reality in the way only the Imagination could, the air dripping with an iciness that penetrated the others’ skin. The Side stood in Roman’s place; the green under his eyes and his black vest stood stark against snowflake skin, devoid of any warmth.

Thomas fell over.

“WHAT THE HNGHHH-” he managed from his position on the ground as he shuffled on his knees to the coffee table. “WHO IS THAT?!”

“Thomas,” Zeb said in deadpan greeting - his voice was a sandpaper rustle, grating against the air with unbridled force as he stared at his host.

Logan raised his eyebrows. “Oh, my- why you?”

“WHO IS HE?!”

“Jealousy,” Virgil spat. “What are you doing in the Realscape, Zeb?”

“JEALOUSY?” Thomas poked his head up from behind the coffee table. “Wait, Jealousy? I’m not jealous of anyone.” His eyes widened to saucers. “Am I? Oh, shi-”

“Roman,” Logan said quietly. His gaze narrowed as he scrutinized the new Side, his hands twitching at the lack of notebook and pen. “You’re here for Roman.”

“Very intuitive.” Zeb smiled, a sardonic, volatile thing stamped across his face; his eyes were hummingbirds, flicking between spots around the room too quickly for the others to follow.

Patton cocked his head to the side, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “Roman? What did Roman do?”

“You’re all very popular,” Zeb continued without acknowledging him. “Roman isn’t much to the fans anymore, is he? I could fix that.” The statement bordered on begging - his gaze was filled with a voracious hunger that bore into each on of them in turn, a void of yearning so blatant it was nearly tangible.

“Not a chance,” Virgil growled. “Where is he?”

“You have such loyal fans, Thomas,” Zeb said, turning his attention instead back to his cowering host. “You can’t lose them just because of one Side, can you?”

“What is he talking about?” Thomas asked, eyes still wide behind the table.

“Roman is bringing you down,” Zeb continued. “He’s the least popular, and he’ll take you down with him, Thomas, but I can help! I can do much better-”

“You just want his spot,” Logan corrected with pursed lips.

“Your other Sides are doing so well,” Zeb hissed, glaring at the others. “He’ll lose his last fans - he’s already started to after Logan’s rise in popularity, but if I step in we can make it better! Trust me, Thomas, please.”

Thomas slowly pulled himself up, his face a cocktail of confusion and alarm. “No,” he said. “Roman is still a valuable part of me. You- you can’t take his place.”

“Where is he?” Virgil repeated; his voice was low and thick with warning that the jealous side couldn’t disregard.

Zeb snapped his fingers.

Roman appeared at his side - his eyes were wide and his tan skin was ashen, as if he hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, and his hair and outfit were tousled. He stumbled as he regained his senses, squinting in the sudden light.

“Roman!”

The prince’s eyes swept the room to Zeb, who stared at him with open distaste. Roman let out a muffled scream and jumped back. “What are you doing here?!”

Zeb scowled, crossing his arms over his chest; Roman flinched.

“Princey,” Virgil said quietly. Roman looked to him and his eyes brightened immediately, a sun in his gaze; he glanced around and seemed to notice the others, the tension in his shoulders escaping into the air before he assessed the situation - the others watching him, Thomas cowering behind the coffee table, Zeb.

“Oh, dear,” he choked out. “I feel as though I’ve missed something.”

“What happened, Ro?” Patton asked, his eyes wide with concern for the almost-trembling Side.

Roman looked again to Zeb, swallowing with an audible click in his Adam’s apple. “H-”

“Roman’s has ruined his status with Thomas’ fans,” Zeb snapped; Roman flinched again. “I offered to help and he refused, so I took matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean, ruined his status?” Thomas asked from the other side of the room. “They still love him.”

“No, they don’t, Thomas,” Roman amended. “But that’s not the point.” He rounded on Zeb with fire in his eyes. “‘Took matters into your own hands?’ What exactly was that dark prison, you sycophant?”

“It was the Imagination,” Zeb supplied with another small smile, dripping in malice.

Roman doubled back in his spot. “That was not the Imagination! I would know-”

“It was my version.”

Roman frowned. “Alright, well, you’re a second-hand Disney villain and you need to leave, sir!” Zeb glowered and Roman waved him away with raised eyebrows. “Shoo!”

Zeb looked around at the faces of the other Sides, all set in heavy scowls. Virgil growled.

“Fine,” he whispered. “But with the way you’re headed, Roman, I won’t stay away for long.”

And he was gone.

Roman practically fell to the ground as his corner cleared of the other Side, his posture crumbling immediately; his pale skin stood out once more, purple half-moons stark against tired brown eyes.

“Ro,” Patton started lightly, “are you okay, kiddo?”

“Hmm?”

“You appear fatigued,” Logan said, eyeing the prince carefully. “I believe Patton was inquiring if you are, indeed, exhausted and or physically harmed in any way.” Patton paused and nodded slowly along with Logan’s words.

“No,” Roman replied. “Not hurt, no. I am pretty tired, though!” He tried a grin that melted when he met Thomas’ gaze.

“Roman,” Thomas began. “What was he- Zeb, talking about? What did he mean about your status with the fans?”

Roman hesitated. “I was going through Tumblr.” Virgil’s gaze snapped up. “I- saw everything the fans said about me after the last video - they don’t like me, Thomas.” He swallowed again. “I wanted to prove my worth to them, but he proposed he do it instead.”

“He would have been really bad at it.”

Roman looked up at Virgil with raised eyebrows, his face dubious, as if he heard wrong. “What?”

“So what, some Fanders are being harsh over the internet?” Virgil said, leaning back against the wall, his hands behind his head. “You got upset. You might have snapped a little, yeah, but you’re still you, Princey, and as obnoxious as you can be, there’s an awful lot to like. You’re constantly improving yourself for others. Zeb would have done a really crappy job at that.”

“Language,” Patton said quickly.

“Oh.” Roman straightened slightly, fiddling with his sash and offering Virgil a crooked smile. “I- thank you, Virgil.”

“Well, this has been a maelstrom of emotions that I was not prepared for,” Logan quipped, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “I’m glad you’re back, Roman. Now, Thomas, if you don’t mind, I believe I’m going to sleep for at least two hours to refresh my mind for optimal performance. Goodnight.” Patton waved as Logan sunk out.

“It’s only seven o’clock- and he’s gone.” Thomas sighed, transferring his gaze back to Roman with a miniscule frown. “Roman, you know you can always talk to us about stuff like this, right? It’s important to me that you guys are okay.”

Roman smiled. “I know, Thomas. Thank you.”

Thomas nodded and took a deep breath. “You know, I actually don’t blame Logan - I’m pretty drained myself.” He gave the three remaining Sides an inquisitive look. “Are you guys all good?”

“Get some sleep, Thomas,” Virgil said, snickering as Thomas sighed in relief.

“‘Night, kiddo!” Patton called as they sunk out. “SLEEP TIGHT!”

As soon as they were in the mindscape, Patton tackled Roman in a bear hug.

“Talk to me next time, Ro.” He met the prince’s eyes hopefully. “That’s what I’m here for, kiddo - I’ll always lend an ear for you, okay?”

“You got it, Padre,” Roman said, returning the hug with a soft smile.

Patton nodded, satisfied, and yawned. “Man, sleepiness must be contagious in this house.” He glanced at Virgil a few feet away and back to Roman, his smile growing slightly. “I’llseeyoukiddosinthemorninggoodnight!” He gave Virgil a quick hug and barreled up the stairs before they could react.

Virgil raised his eyebrows and looked to Roman, whose gaze trailed after Patton with a small smile before falling on his laptop on the table, where his smile faltered. Virgil frowned.

“I’m probably not gonna sleep for a few hours,” he huffed, collapsing onto the couch and fumbling for the remote. “You wanna watch a movie or something?”

He smirked as Roman quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the DVD shelf carefully. “...Disney?”

“Sure, Princey.”

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman angst #ts dark sides #dark sides #ts #thomas sanders #sanders sides #ts fic #fanfic #angst #prinxiety #platonic or romantic #also a tiny bit of #logicality #my writing

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