itsyaenbyt25 - Tumblr blog

[itsyaenbyt25]

ANN. YOU BEAUTIFUL TALENTED SWEET PERSON. THIS IS PERFECT AND I LOVE IT.

Le hice un dibujo a @itsyaenbyt25 UWU

[itsyaenbyt25]

Deceit: I may say “fuck school”, and my god do I mean it, but I’ll cry if I get a damn B.

[itsyaenbyt25]

jokes on you it’s only 5 am fish. Still not time to

it is snooze time for you

[itsyaenbyt25]

*inhales*...

*PAINED SCREECHING*

Merry Christmas have some pain

So Virgils sweater paws are famous at this point. They’re fucking legendary. When he got his christmas sweater, the first thing he did was make sweater paws. I wonder why he does that? It’s almost like he doesn’t want his sleeves to fall down and show his arms…

[itsyaenbyt25]

Roman: Come on, sunshine! Move with me! A few push-ups! You can do this!

Virgil: Honestly, I’ve always been better at let-downs.

Roman: …honey, no.

Virgil: See? It’s a god-given talent.

Roman: H O N E Y

[itsyaenbyt25]

*inhale* SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

YES

LET MY BOIS BE HAPPY

THANK YOU OP

Hello yes welcome to “Lionel has another AU idea that he’s never gonna write”.

Aroace Patton adopts a baby Roman who’s parents left him at an orphanage bc they were teen parents and weren’t ready for kids.

Roman grows up and goes to elementary school and ends up meeting Virgil, a shy little kid who’s kinda clumsy so no one really worries too much when he comes to school with strange bruises. But Roman notices and brings it up to his dad, because he recognized them as handprints and was worried for his new friend.

Patton finds out that Virgil is being abused by his father, who drinks a lot after his mom died. He gets him out of that situation and takes him in as a foster child, not letting the police put him in an orphanage because he was scared and needed to have a steady home with people who could give him the attention he needed and deserved.

Roman very quickly basically takes Virgil under his wing- calling him his little brother right away, which Virgil doesn’t mind too much. It’s kinda nice to have a sibling, especially one who’s so kind and protective over him as Roman is. And he can get a bit annoyed by Roman sometimes, as siblings do tend to annoy each other, but they have a healthy relationship and love each other a damn lot.

Roman realizes he’s aromantic homosexual in middle school- and he sees no reason to hide it from Patton or Virgil, because Patton’s always been open with them about his sexuality and has made sure they’re well educated on other LGBTQ+ identities.

Virgil doesn’t know what his sexuality is and isn’t too pressed to find out, even in high school. And Patton and Roman never pressure him about it.

Roman gets into a queerplatonic relationship with Remy in their freshman year of high school- having been friends with him since he came to their middle school halfway through sixth grade. At first Virgil’s a bit nervous that Remy being Roman’s QPP will take time away from him and Roman’s hanging out. But it actually strengthens their relationship because Roman and Virgil can get away from each other more often, since Roman spends more time at Remy’s now. They don’t spend as much time together as they used to, but their relationship doesn’t suffer from it and it isn’t like that’s a bad thing.

But that sorta makes Virgil feel like a bit of a third wheel at times- not that he resents them for it in the slightest.

He meets Logan a couple months after Remy and Roman become partners. They shared an English class together and were assigned to be partners by the teacher, and they very quickly hit it off. They had been learning about Ancient Greek myths and both of them were really interested in it actually. They did the project together, and they did really well, and they kept talking even after finishing the project. They became pretty good friends pretty fast- and Virgil talked about him a lot to Patton and Roman. Roman teased him a little about it, asking him if he had a crush on Logan, but knew when to stop.

Logan introduced Virgil to his boyfriend, Dolos(or whatever name you want to use for Deceit, I’m just using Dolos for this to make it easier on myself). Virgil was a little disappointed and jealous, but he didn’t really recognize it right away, because he did have a crush on Logan. He just didn’t realize it. But he ignored it and tried to get to know Dolos, and found that they also had fairly similar interests. They became friends as well- not as quickly as Logan and Virgil did, but still pretty quick.

Being the useless gay he is, Virgil didn’t realize he had a crush on both of them until almost halfway through sophomore year. He went to Roman about it for support honestly- just needing someone to talk to about it. Roman, thankfully, kept the teasing to a minimum(though he did still pepper it in there, just enough that Virgil wouldn’t get mad at him). But Virgil doesn’t do anything about it really, just satisfied with having them as friends- even if he did sometimes get jealous and a bit sad. Roman was a pretty big help during this all honestly- there were definitely a couple of nights were Virgil had cried while cuddling with his brother.

Then, in the beginning of their junior year, Logan and Dolos explained to Virgil what polyamory is and asked him out! Que the gay panic and blushing and “yes"es.

and ye that’s all I’ve got.

reblogs > likes

if you got down this far, FUCKING REBLOG.

[itsyaenbyt25]

Roman: Can I get a ‘hell yeah’?

Logan: I don’t know, can you?

Roman: [sighs] May I get a ‘hell yeah’?

Logan: You should have gotten a ‘hell yeah’ during break before the video started.

Roman: I didn’t need a ‘hell yeah’ then!

[itsyaenbyt25]

😑

I mean who doesn’t think that way about me tho

Your fifth most recent emoji is what your soulmate thinks about you

[itsyaenbyt25]

Me: Today we have nothing to do, so I'm just going to lie down for a bi-

My body: yeah, no.

Me: but like, we have nothing to do so-

My body: Did I stutter?

Me: okay, we got stuff to do today, let's go!

My body: sweet! we're out of energy btw

Me: ??? I just woke up???

My body: yeah uh well you see we kinda,,,, forgot to make energy

Me:

My body:

Me:

My body:

Me: you FORGOT-

[itsyaenbyt25]

sex repulsed trans men are valid, trans men who are neutral about sex are valid. trans men who love sex are valid. trans men are valid no matter what their relationship with sex is

[itsyaenbyt25]

*vanishes* My job here is done, you lovely human being <3 keep creating such beautiful content! 

Wait// Prinxiety

Read on AO3

Words: 1203

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The clock on the wall tick on like a metronome. The insistent ticking was going to drive him insane. It hard enough to wait here with no visible sighs that anything was going to be alright.

Tick.

Tock.

It was his fault. He should have been there. He could have protected him, but he wasn't there, and now everything was up in flames, literally.

Tick.

What if Virgil was dying? What if Roman could never see him again? Could he live without him?

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The white of the waiting room was dazzlingly bright. Roman closed his eyes. He was tired, sure, but he wouldn't be sleeping. He was just resting his eyes. Roman's eyes drifted shut, his heavy eyelids resting on his dry eyes, but he wouldn't fall asleep, no matter how tempting it was. He could stay awake...

"---- up?"

"Let him rest for now. There is nothing he could do."

Roman blinked his eyes opened to see two worried medical professionals chatting. The white that clad the doctors was to bright to look at, like the walls. Roman blinked his tired eyelids against the harsh light. He was slouched down in the chair he was sitting in, the arm of which dug into his back, as he attempted to pull himself more upright. This action caught the attention of one of the two clad in white, they mumbled something to the other.

A doctor, who had an unreadible expression on their face approach Roman, and cautiously asked, "Roman Storm?"

"Yes, that's me." Roman responded, unsure of how he should interpret the doctor's tone or body language.

"Uh, could you follow me please?"

Roman was taken into an office. More white. It was blindingly bright. Why did everything in this hospital have to be white? Roman was told take a seat, and wait there. Roman sat down on the chair on the far right; Virgil always sat on the left. It was the way it always was.

Roman looked around the room, grimacing at the brightness that encompassed the room. At least the chairs are black. When Virgil comes he'll be happy about that, if nothing else.

After a while a middle agged woman walked in alone. Roman regarded her warily. Why was Virgil not with her? What was going on?

The tension between the two grew larger and larger, stronger and stronger. Until, she extended her hand, "Roman Storm? I'm Dr. Jennifer Stuart."

Roman stood and shook the doctor's hand before sitting down again. The dark cloud of distrust, fear, and wariness that was devoid of warmth, still hovered ominously above them, although it no longer filled the entire room.

"So Mr. Storm, you are here for your husband, Virgil, correct?"

"Yes. Yes, that is correct. Is everything alright?"

Dr. Stuart paused, "Unfortunately, no." She took a deep breath, "This isn't easy to say, and it will never be, but Virgil's injuries were too severe. We did everything we could for him. He um.. he passed away. I--"

As if Roman was on a roller coaster, his stomach fell. Bumps raced up his arms, as a chill ran down his spine.

Virgil... dead?

His throat was tight; the air in the room felt thin. Roman took ragged breaths. He couldn't get enough air.

His lungs felt too small for his body as Roman gasped for breath.

How? No. No! This wasn't possible. This wasn't fair! Virgil... he couldn't be... He couldn't be dead.

Roman didn't remeber yelling at the doctor.

He didn't remember storming out of the tiny office.

He didn't remember collapsing on the floor.

He didn't remember the words he cried for his husband.

He didn't remember being escorted into a patient's room.

He didn't remember falling asleep on the bed.

When Roman woke up, he remembered.

He remembered the pain.

He remembered the feeling of helplessness.

He remembered the feeling of dread.

He remembered the calm words a nurse spoke as he fell asleep.

He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheek as he drifted off to sleep.

He remembered Virgil.

He remembered he could never see Virgil again.

He remembered he would never be able to hold Virgil again.

He remembered his husband was gone.

Forever.

Roman sat up on the bed, and looked at the empty space in front of him. He could practicality see Virgil.

His husband, who was gone, stood before him as a figment of his imagination. It was as if he was there with Roman, but Roman knew he wasn't. Every detail. Every mark. It was just off, just wrong.

It wasn't Virgil. The face was too smooth, the eyes too bland. He could never perfectly imagine Virgil's beauty. Virgil's deep brown eyes stared back at him, unblinking.

His patchwork hoodie that Roman had helped make so long ago, fell loose around his figure. The hood fell just over his left eye, concealing the scar that Roman knew lay just above his eyebrow. He got it on their first valentine's day together, they had gone to a couples cooking class, because frankly neither of them could cook very well. Virgil had gone to pick up something, Roman couldn't remember what, and Roman had turned around and accidentally cut him with a knife he was holding.

Virgil had laughed... His face had lit up like one thousand fireworks lighting up the nights sky. It is a beautiful thing to witness, one of Virgil's rare, and real smiles.

Roman suddenly wimpered. He would never see it again.

Virgil would never light up a room with his laugh, or shine so bright Roman might as well be looking into the sun. That was gone. He was gone.

Roman glanced up at the blank wall as Virgil started to reemerge from little cracks and divots in the wall.

"I'm sorry." Roman sobbed, "I wanted to protect you, I wanted to be there. You... It should have been me."

Roman half expected Virgil's voice to fill the room with its sweet tones, and warm arms to embrace his trembling body as each sob made him shake a little harder.

But nothing happened.

"You're gone, and it's all my fault." Roman cried, "I should have been there, I shouldn't have missed your call. I should have gotten there sooner. I should have called faster. I..." Roman gasped for breath, before collapsing backwards onto the wall in defeat.

He stared up at his depiction of his husband. "I can't live without you." Roman croaked, "I need you. What am I going to do Virgil? I'm lost without you. You are--- were my guiding light. Now the light in my life, the light of my light, is gone, what's left? What's left for me?"

Roman covered his eyes which just as consistently as the sun rises and sets, was pouring hot damp tears down hus cheeks. Roman sat there covering his eyes. He would rather not torture himself by staring at someone that could never come back.

Suddenly, a familiar voice filled the room, it spoke softly, but it seemed to go and engulf Roman's being. The soft, doucette tones bounced and leaped around the room keeping it alive with anticipation.

"I'll wait."

[itsyaenbyt25]

*evil laughter* You really thought you could escape your destiny? *takes mask off* I AM one of them! NOW COME HERE AND ACCEPT YOUR DESTINY *runs after you*

Wait// Prinxiety

Read on AO3

Words: 1203

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The clock on the wall tick on like a metronome. The insistent ticking was going to drive him insane. It hard enough to wait here with no visible sighs that anything was going to be alright.

Tick.

Tock.

It was his fault. He should have been there. He could have protected him, but he wasn't there, and now everything was up in flames, literally.

Tick.

What if Virgil was dying? What if Roman could never see him again? Could he live without him?

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The white of the waiting room was dazzlingly bright. Roman closed his eyes. He was tired, sure, but he wouldn't be sleeping. He was just resting his eyes. Roman's eyes drifted shut, his heavy eyelids resting on his dry eyes, but he wouldn't fall asleep, no matter how tempting it was. He could stay awake...

"---- up?"

"Let him rest for now. There is nothing he could do."

Roman blinked his eyes opened to see two worried medical professionals chatting. The white that clad the doctors was to bright to look at, like the walls. Roman blinked his tired eyelids against the harsh light. He was slouched down in the chair he was sitting in, the arm of which dug into his back, as he attempted to pull himself more upright. This action caught the attention of one of the two clad in white, they mumbled something to the other.

A doctor, who had an unreadible expression on their face approach Roman, and cautiously asked, "Roman Storm?"

"Yes, that's me." Roman responded, unsure of how he should interpret the doctor's tone or body language.

"Uh, could you follow me please?"

Roman was taken into an office. More white. It was blindingly bright. Why did everything in this hospital have to be white? Roman was told take a seat, and wait there. Roman sat down on the chair on the far right; Virgil always sat on the left. It was the way it always was.

Roman looked around the room, grimacing at the brightness that encompassed the room. At least the chairs are black. When Virgil comes he'll be happy about that, if nothing else.

After a while a middle agged woman walked in alone. Roman regarded her warily. Why was Virgil not with her? What was going on?

The tension between the two grew larger and larger, stronger and stronger. Until, she extended her hand, "Roman Storm? I'm Dr. Jennifer Stuart."

Roman stood and shook the doctor's hand before sitting down again. The dark cloud of distrust, fear, and wariness that was devoid of warmth, still hovered ominously above them, although it no longer filled the entire room.

"So Mr. Storm, you are here for your husband, Virgil, correct?"

"Yes. Yes, that is correct. Is everything alright?"

Dr. Stuart paused, "Unfortunately, no." She took a deep breath, "This isn't easy to say, and it will never be, but Virgil's injuries were too severe. We did everything we could for him. He um.. he passed away. I--"

As if Roman was on a roller coaster, his stomach fell. Bumps raced up his arms, as a chill ran down his spine.

Virgil... dead?

His throat was tight; the air in the room felt thin. Roman took ragged breaths. He couldn't get enough air.

His lungs felt too small for his body as Roman gasped for breath.

How? No. No! This wasn't possible. This wasn't fair! Virgil... he couldn't be... He couldn't be dead.

Roman didn't remeber yelling at the doctor.

He didn't remember storming out of the tiny office.

He didn't remember collapsing on the floor.

He didn't remember the words he cried for his husband.

He didn't remember being escorted into a patient's room.

He didn't remember falling asleep on the bed.

When Roman woke up, he remembered.

He remembered the pain.

He remembered the feeling of helplessness.

He remembered the feeling of dread.

He remembered the calm words a nurse spoke as he fell asleep.

He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheek as he drifted off to sleep.

He remembered Virgil.

He remembered he could never see Virgil again.

He remembered he would never be able to hold Virgil again.

He remembered his husband was gone.

Forever.

Roman sat up on the bed, and looked at the empty space in front of him. He could practicality see Virgil.

His husband, who was gone, stood before him as a figment of his imagination. It was as if he was there with Roman, but Roman knew he wasn't. Every detail. Every mark. It was just off, just wrong.

It wasn't Virgil. The face was too smooth, the eyes too bland. He could never perfectly imagine Virgil's beauty. Virgil's deep brown eyes stared back at him, unblinking.

His patchwork hoodie that Roman had helped make so long ago, fell loose around his figure. The hood fell just over his left eye, concealing the scar that Roman knew lay just above his eyebrow. He got it on their first valentine's day together, they had gone to a couples cooking class, because frankly neither of them could cook very well. Virgil had gone to pick up something, Roman couldn't remember what, and Roman had turned around and accidentally cut him with a knife he was holding.

Virgil had laughed... His face had lit up like one thousand fireworks lighting up the nights sky. It is a beautiful thing to witness, one of Virgil's rare, and real smiles.

Roman suddenly wimpered. He would never see it again.

Virgil would never light up a room with his laugh, or shine so bright Roman might as well be looking into the sun. That was gone. He was gone.

Roman glanced up at the blank wall as Virgil started to reemerge from little cracks and divots in the wall.

"I'm sorry." Roman sobbed, "I wanted to protect you, I wanted to be there. You... It should have been me."

Roman half expected Virgil's voice to fill the room with its sweet tones, and warm arms to embrace his trembling body as each sob made him shake a little harder.

But nothing happened.

"You're gone, and it's all my fault." Roman cried, "I should have been there, I shouldn't have missed your call. I should have gotten there sooner. I should have called faster. I..." Roman gasped for breath, before collapsing backwards onto the wall in defeat.

He stared up at his depiction of his husband. "I can't live without you." Roman croaked, "I need you. What am I going to do Virgil? I'm lost without you. You are--- were my guiding light. Now the light in my life, the light of my light, is gone, what's left? What's left for me?"

Roman covered his eyes which just as consistently as the sun rises and sets, was pouring hot damp tears down hus cheeks. Roman sat there covering his eyes. He would rather not torture himself by staring at someone that could never come back.

Suddenly, a familiar voice filled the room, it spoke softly, but it seemed to go and engulf Roman's being. The soft, doucette tones bounced and leaped around the room keeping it alive with anticipation.

"I'll wait."

[itsyaenbyt25]

hey, hey! You know what?I can also do this *opens a big door full of appreciation* You can't escape it. Its coming for you. 

Wait// Prinxiety

Read on AO3

Words: 1203

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The clock on the wall tick on like a metronome. The insistent ticking was going to drive him insane. It hard enough to wait here with no visible sighs that anything was going to be alright.

Tick.

Tock.

It was his fault. He should have been there. He could have protected him, but he wasn't there, and now everything was up in flames, literally.

Tick.

What if Virgil was dying? What if Roman could never see him again? Could he live without him?

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The white of the waiting room was dazzlingly bright. Roman closed his eyes. He was tired, sure, but he wouldn't be sleeping. He was just resting his eyes. Roman's eyes drifted shut, his heavy eyelids resting on his dry eyes, but he wouldn't fall asleep, no matter how tempting it was. He could stay awake...

"---- up?"

"Let him rest for now. There is nothing he could do."

Roman blinked his eyes opened to see two worried medical professionals chatting. The white that clad the doctors was to bright to look at, like the walls. Roman blinked his tired eyelids against the harsh light. He was slouched down in the chair he was sitting in, the arm of which dug into his back, as he attempted to pull himself more upright. This action caught the attention of one of the two clad in white, they mumbled something to the other.

A doctor, who had an unreadible expression on their face approach Roman, and cautiously asked, "Roman Storm?"

"Yes, that's me." Roman responded, unsure of how he should interpret the doctor's tone or body language.

"Uh, could you follow me please?"

Roman was taken into an office. More white. It was blindingly bright. Why did everything in this hospital have to be white? Roman was told take a seat, and wait there. Roman sat down on the chair on the far right; Virgil always sat on the left. It was the way it always was.

Roman looked around the room, grimacing at the brightness that encompassed the room. At least the chairs are black. When Virgil comes he'll be happy about that, if nothing else.

After a while a middle agged woman walked in alone. Roman regarded her warily. Why was Virgil not with her? What was going on?

The tension between the two grew larger and larger, stronger and stronger. Until, she extended her hand, "Roman Storm? I'm Dr. Jennifer Stuart."

Roman stood and shook the doctor's hand before sitting down again. The dark cloud of distrust, fear, and wariness that was devoid of warmth, still hovered ominously above them, although it no longer filled the entire room.

"So Mr. Storm, you are here for your husband, Virgil, correct?"

"Yes. Yes, that is correct. Is everything alright?"

Dr. Stuart paused, "Unfortunately, no." She took a deep breath, "This isn't easy to say, and it will never be, but Virgil's injuries were too severe. We did everything we could for him. He um.. he passed away. I--"

As if Roman was on a roller coaster, his stomach fell. Bumps raced up his arms, as a chill ran down his spine.

Virgil... dead?

His throat was tight; the air in the room felt thin. Roman took ragged breaths. He couldn't get enough air.

His lungs felt too small for his body as Roman gasped for breath.

How? No. No! This wasn't possible. This wasn't fair! Virgil... he couldn't be... He couldn't be dead.

Roman didn't remeber yelling at the doctor.

He didn't remember storming out of the tiny office.

He didn't remember collapsing on the floor.

He didn't remember the words he cried for his husband.

He didn't remember being escorted into a patient's room.

He didn't remember falling asleep on the bed.

When Roman woke up, he remembered.

He remembered the pain.

He remembered the feeling of helplessness.

He remembered the feeling of dread.

He remembered the calm words a nurse spoke as he fell asleep.

He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheek as he drifted off to sleep.

He remembered Virgil.

He remembered he could never see Virgil again.

He remembered he would never be able to hold Virgil again.

He remembered his husband was gone.

Forever.

Roman sat up on the bed, and looked at the empty space in front of him. He could practicality see Virgil.

His husband, who was gone, stood before him as a figment of his imagination. It was as if he was there with Roman, but Roman knew he wasn't. Every detail. Every mark. It was just off, just wrong.

It wasn't Virgil. The face was too smooth, the eyes too bland. He could never perfectly imagine Virgil's beauty. Virgil's deep brown eyes stared back at him, unblinking.

His patchwork hoodie that Roman had helped make so long ago, fell loose around his figure. The hood fell just over his left eye, concealing the scar that Roman knew lay just above his eyebrow. He got it on their first valentine's day together, they had gone to a couples cooking class, because frankly neither of them could cook very well. Virgil had gone to pick up something, Roman couldn't remember what, and Roman had turned around and accidentally cut him with a knife he was holding.

Virgil had laughed... His face had lit up like one thousand fireworks lighting up the nights sky. It is a beautiful thing to witness, one of Virgil's rare, and real smiles.

Roman suddenly wimpered. He would never see it again.

Virgil would never light up a room with his laugh, or shine so bright Roman might as well be looking into the sun. That was gone. He was gone.

Roman glanced up at the blank wall as Virgil started to reemerge from little cracks and divots in the wall.

"I'm sorry." Roman sobbed, "I wanted to protect you, I wanted to be there. You... It should have been me."

Roman half expected Virgil's voice to fill the room with its sweet tones, and warm arms to embrace his trembling body as each sob made him shake a little harder.

But nothing happened.

"You're gone, and it's all my fault." Roman cried, "I should have been there, I shouldn't have missed your call. I should have gotten there sooner. I should have called faster. I..." Roman gasped for breath, before collapsing backwards onto the wall in defeat.

He stared up at his depiction of his husband. "I can't live without you." Roman croaked, "I need you. What am I going to do Virgil? I'm lost without you. You are--- were my guiding light. Now the light in my life, the light of my light, is gone, what's left? What's left for me?"

Roman covered his eyes which just as consistently as the sun rises and sets, was pouring hot damp tears down hus cheeks. Roman sat there covering his eyes. He would rather not torture himself by staring at someone that could never come back.

Suddenly, a familiar voice filled the room, it spoke softly, but it seemed to go and engulf Roman's being. The soft, doucette tones bounced and leaped around the room keeping it alive with anticipation.

"I'll wait."

[itsyaenbyt25]

(Im sorry for being so freaking late, like I said, I forget stuff too often but)

 Ill be more than happy to give more oh great rule of the heartbreakingly beautiful fanfics *hands you more cookies* uwu

Wait// Prinxiety

Read on AO3

Words: 1203

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The clock on the wall tick on like a metronome. The insistent ticking was going to drive him insane. It hard enough to wait here with no visible sighs that anything was going to be alright.

Tick.

Tock.

It was his fault. He should have been there. He could have protected him, but he wasn't there, and now everything was up in flames, literally.

Tick.

What if Virgil was dying? What if Roman could never see him again? Could he live without him?

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The white of the waiting room was dazzlingly bright. Roman closed his eyes. He was tired, sure, but he wouldn't be sleeping. He was just resting his eyes. Roman's eyes drifted shut, his heavy eyelids resting on his dry eyes, but he wouldn't fall asleep, no matter how tempting it was. He could stay awake...

"---- up?"

"Let him rest for now. There is nothing he could do."

Roman blinked his eyes opened to see two worried medical professionals chatting. The white that clad the doctors was to bright to look at, like the walls. Roman blinked his tired eyelids against the harsh light. He was slouched down in the chair he was sitting in, the arm of which dug into his back, as he attempted to pull himself more upright. This action caught the attention of one of the two clad in white, they mumbled something to the other.

A doctor, who had an unreadible expression on their face approach Roman, and cautiously asked, "Roman Storm?"

"Yes, that's me." Roman responded, unsure of how he should interpret the doctor's tone or body language.

"Uh, could you follow me please?"

Roman was taken into an office. More white. It was blindingly bright. Why did everything in this hospital have to be white? Roman was told take a seat, and wait there. Roman sat down on the chair on the far right; Virgil always sat on the left. It was the way it always was.

Roman looked around the room, grimacing at the brightness that encompassed the room. At least the chairs are black. When Virgil comes he'll be happy about that, if nothing else.

After a while a middle agged woman walked in alone. Roman regarded her warily. Why was Virgil not with her? What was going on?

The tension between the two grew larger and larger, stronger and stronger. Until, she extended her hand, "Roman Storm? I'm Dr. Jennifer Stuart."

Roman stood and shook the doctor's hand before sitting down again. The dark cloud of distrust, fear, and wariness that was devoid of warmth, still hovered ominously above them, although it no longer filled the entire room.

"So Mr. Storm, you are here for your husband, Virgil, correct?"

"Yes. Yes, that is correct. Is everything alright?"

Dr. Stuart paused, "Unfortunately, no." She took a deep breath, "This isn't easy to say, and it will never be, but Virgil's injuries were too severe. We did everything we could for him. He um.. he passed away. I--"

As if Roman was on a roller coaster, his stomach fell. Bumps raced up his arms, as a chill ran down his spine.

Virgil... dead?

His throat was tight; the air in the room felt thin. Roman took ragged breaths. He couldn't get enough air.

His lungs felt too small for his body as Roman gasped for breath.

How? No. No! This wasn't possible. This wasn't fair! Virgil... he couldn't be... He couldn't be dead.

Roman didn't remeber yelling at the doctor.

He didn't remember storming out of the tiny office.

He didn't remember collapsing on the floor.

He didn't remember the words he cried for his husband.

He didn't remember being escorted into a patient's room.

He didn't remember falling asleep on the bed.

When Roman woke up, he remembered.

He remembered the pain.

He remembered the feeling of helplessness.

He remembered the feeling of dread.

He remembered the calm words a nurse spoke as he fell asleep.

He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheek as he drifted off to sleep.

He remembered Virgil.

He remembered he could never see Virgil again.

He remembered he would never be able to hold Virgil again.

He remembered his husband was gone.

Forever.

Roman sat up on the bed, and looked at the empty space in front of him. He could practicality see Virgil.

His husband, who was gone, stood before him as a figment of his imagination. It was as if he was there with Roman, but Roman knew he wasn't. Every detail. Every mark. It was just off, just wrong.

It wasn't Virgil. The face was too smooth, the eyes too bland. He could never perfectly imagine Virgil's beauty. Virgil's deep brown eyes stared back at him, unblinking.

His patchwork hoodie that Roman had helped make so long ago, fell loose around his figure. The hood fell just over his left eye, concealing the scar that Roman knew lay just above his eyebrow. He got it on their first valentine's day together, they had gone to a couples cooking class, because frankly neither of them could cook very well. Virgil had gone to pick up something, Roman couldn't remember what, and Roman had turned around and accidentally cut him with a knife he was holding.

Virgil had laughed... His face had lit up like one thousand fireworks lighting up the nights sky. It is a beautiful thing to witness, one of Virgil's rare, and real smiles.

Roman suddenly wimpered. He would never see it again.

Virgil would never light up a room with his laugh, or shine so bright Roman might as well be looking into the sun. That was gone. He was gone.

Roman glanced up at the blank wall as Virgil started to reemerge from little cracks and divots in the wall.

"I'm sorry." Roman sobbed, "I wanted to protect you, I wanted to be there. You... It should have been me."

Roman half expected Virgil's voice to fill the room with its sweet tones, and warm arms to embrace his trembling body as each sob made him shake a little harder.

But nothing happened.

"You're gone, and it's all my fault." Roman cried, "I should have been there, I shouldn't have missed your call. I should have gotten there sooner. I should have called faster. I..." Roman gasped for breath, before collapsing backwards onto the wall in defeat.

He stared up at his depiction of his husband. "I can't live without you." Roman croaked, "I need you. What am I going to do Virgil? I'm lost without you. You are--- were my guiding light. Now the light in my life, the light of my light, is gone, what's left? What's left for me?"

Roman covered his eyes which just as consistently as the sun rises and sets, was pouring hot damp tears down hus cheeks. Roman sat there covering his eyes. He would rather not torture himself by staring at someone that could never come back.

Suddenly, a familiar voice filled the room, it spoke softly, but it seemed to go and engulf Roman's being. The soft, doucette tones bounced and leaped around the room keeping it alive with anticipation.

"I'll wait."

[itsyaenbyt25]

[footsteps upstairs]

Mildly confused Logan: I’m sorry I thought I was home alone*

Logan: *proceeds to leave the house*

[itsyaenbyt25]

Me: *sends someone a pointless message on an impulse because I wanted their attention*

Me, after rereading message: I should not have done that

[itsyaenbyt25]

hey op? Good job m8 this is hilarious lol

I just thought of this. I can’t tell if it’s even funny anymore, but it feels good to complete a big comic thing without half-assing it. I’m at least two-thirds-assing it now.