#implied romantic roceit

[d-c-it]

Some fem! Roceit for the soul

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Saw you had writing prompts up and thought I’d send in something that brain conjured up in the early hours of dawn

“What if I want them to kill me? What if I want them to try? What if I want to see them realize that as much as I and others have tried. They…We can’t?’

d’know if this was what you meant by prompts but enjoy a depressed God?

More Than Human

----

At his very core, Janus was human.

One might say he was more than human, being a God, but being more than something doesn’t take away from that something, it just adds onto it.

----

| Ao3 | Next Part |

Warnings: implied/referenced suicide attempts, touch starvation, depression (with a somewhat positive ending)

Pairings: platonic roceit, though could be perceived as romantic if you so wished.

Word count: 1601

Notes: If I had a nickel for every time I wrote a fic with Mortal!Roman and a god!side I'd have two - (gets killed)

I really needed this lmao so tysm for the prompt! I've been really struggling with writing inspiration recently so this was really great!

It's been so long since I posted something new - it feels so good lmao. I left it fairly open ended so I could write more if anyone wanted it <3 just send an ask!! I'm always down for prompts :)

----

Janus was, first and foremost, a God

To be precise, he was the God of deception, trickery. In some communities he was the Guardian of all Evil, in others he was a representation of temptation, sin, all that was wrong with the world. 

At his very core, Janus was human.

One might say he was more than human, being a God, but being more than something doesn’t take away from that something, it just adds onto it.

Janus was still human, deep down, he always would be, no matter how many layers were added - immortality, reality bending powers, worshippers, temples - he couldn’t bury the human parts. Though he tried, he wasn’t indifferent. No matter what he did the harsh words still stung when they tore at him, the hatred many felt towards him sat heavy in his chest, loneliness clawed at him like a starving animal - and he was their prey. As it had been for years. 

He had been naive, a thousand years ago, to become a God. But they’d needed someone to shoulder the burden of the world's evils. They needed someone to shield them from the terrors, they needed someone who could face the lies and treachery and not be torn down by them. He had been foolish then, just a boy who was different, a boy who wanted to help. 

There was no way out, either. Janus had tried his best, he’d begged the universe, he’d searched. He’d tried to cut himself off from the world but that had only made the lonely, empty feeling in his chest worse, he’d tried to end it all, when he had no options left, but that hadn’t worked either. 

You couldn’t kill a God, after all. He wasn’t the only one who tried. 

—-

“You’re not going to defend yourself?” Said the knight, dressed in shining silver armour, a red cloak fastened at the shoulder flowing behind him, a confident expression turning to confusion. The challenger stood before him in his temple, shining sword drawn and pointed at Janus’ chest where he sat on his uncomfortable, stone throne. 

“No,” He answered simply.

“You’ll just… let me kill you?” He said, faltering, the only movement was his fiery red hair in the wind. 

Janus leaned on his elbow and didn’t say anything. The knight lowered his sword just a little. 

“Armies will try - if I fail,” The knight said, widening his arms in a gesture, “More people will come, try to kill you, why just allow it?”

“Maybe I want them to kill me,” Janus said softly, not quite looking at the knight, “What if I want you, them, everyone to try? What if I want to see them realise that as much as I and others have tried. They…We can’t?’”

The knight stared at the God before him, eyes widening as he realised, “You… whyever would you want to die?” 

Once again, Janus said nothing. The knight sheathed his sword and Janus sighed softly. He supposed today wouldn’t be the day. 

With the soft clanking of the knight’s heavy armour, he stepped forward, slowly approaching Janus’ throne as though he was prepared to be attacked. Even if he never went to draw his sword again, Janus could see the fear growing in his eyes with every step as he got closer. Janus didn’t move. 

“Why do you want to die, Janus: God of Deceit, guardian of Evil,” the Knight asked, now standing over him. How interesting, Janus thought, that a mortal would have the courage to do such a thing. Many Gods would have felt that something of the sort was an act of disrespect, possibly even choosing to smite down the mortal who dared to do such a thing, Janus found he didn’t have the energy to care. Instead he just smiled softly - at least this made his life just a little more interesting, even if it did nothing to lessen the emptiness in his chest. 

He sighed, he’s certain the knight would listen if he turned him away, but Janus had yearned for someone to talk to for hundreds of years. This knight would leave soon anyway and Janus would never see him again, what did it matter.

“Tell me your name,” Janus said, the Knight tilted his head and frowned, “Tell me your name, first, and I’ll answer your question.”

After a long, thoughtful pause, the knight sighed, “My name is Roman - Sir Roman Greenheart.”

“A lovely name,” Janus said softly, Roman smiled tentatively, “Now- your question… Why do I want to die? The answer is that living is painful.”

“Oh…” Roman said softly, “I would have thought a God would have an easy life.”

“Easy and painless are not the same,” Janus says softly, “People try to kill me on a monthly basis, Roman, and that’s barely scratching the surface.”

The pair were silent for a moment, before Roman gestured to the floor by Janus’ feet, “May I sit down?” He asked.

“You may,” Janus said. With permission, Roman folded to sit cross legged by Janus’ feet. He wondered silently why Roman’s attitude had changed so abruptly - minutes ago he’d been prepared to attempt to kill him. He wouldn’t ask though, instead simply ignoring him, resting his elbow on the uncomfortable arm of the throne and resting his chin atop his fist. 

Minutes spent in silence later, Roman must have shifted, because Janus felt his shoulder brush against his leg, sending a jolt of warmth through him, strong enough to make his gasp. He hoped Roman wouldn’t notice, but as the knight turned to look at him, he knew he wasn’t so lucky. 

“What was that?” Roman asked, frowning up at him - though the look seemed to be one of concern, Janus couldn’t be certain. 

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Janus said, making a point to look forward instead of down at Roman. Unfortunately that left him unprepared for Roman laying his hand atop Janus’ knee. His whole leg jolted as he flinched away in surprise at the way the touch burned. 

“What are you doing to me,” Janus hissed, trying to sound menacing though he was fairly certain his fear and confusion were showing through his facade. 

Roman simply frowned, “How… How long has it been since someone touched you?”

For a moment, Janus couldn’t think of an answer because when he thought about it, Janus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched by another person outside of combat. His silence seemed to be enough of an answer for Roman. 

“I didn’t know Gods could be touch starved,” Roman said softly. Janus’ frown deepened. 

“Will you stop being vague and let me in on whatever odd breakthrough you’re having?” He asked, voice tired but still a little snappish, Roman jumped.

“Oh- um…” he sighed, “I believe you might be touch starved.”

“...Meaning?” Janus asked, frowning down at the knight with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve gone too long without touch,” Roman said, sighing, “So you aren’t used to it - people need touch to be happy.”

“I am not a person.” Janus pointed out, frowning, he wasn’t even sure why Roman was even still here - now he was telling him he had this strange sickness of some kind? Who did he think he was?

“You don’t have to be a human to be a person,” Roman pointed out, voice irritatingly soft.

Janus narrowed his eyes, “Why are you still here?”

“Why haven’t you told me to leave?” Roman challenged, Janus blinked. People didn’t usually stand up to him - well, not after trying and failing to kill him, anyway. They usually ran in fear after that - that’s how it always went.

Roman held his gaze for a long, quiet moment, before Janus sighed.

“I don’t know,” he said. Eventually, Roman’s expression became one of pity, maybe concern. 

“You…” Roman trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, “Do you have anyone to talk to? Other Gods?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Janus said, tone growing icy. Roman frowned, but seemed to understand as he stood up.

“Well - I must get back to my village duties,” He said with a small smile, confusing Janus greatly - though he tried not to show it. Why on earth was he smiling?

“Good,” Janus said sharply, “Leave me be with your prying questions and annoying presence.”

Chuckling, the knight turned away, though the glint in his eyes certainly worried Janus - if only a little, though he tried immediately to get the sight out of his mind, “I will return here in a week's time - for no reason - perhaps I’ll bring some cookies.”

Janus frowned as he watched him leave. Was this mortal trying to tempt him, a God, to return to his own temple, with the promise of cookies? He said nothing as Roman walked away and continued to sit there once the knight was out of sight over the crest of the hill. Janus thought he shouldn’t come back next week - as the mortal was clearly inviting him to - but he wanted to. He really wanted to and Janus wasn’t one to deny himself what he wants despite having not wanted much other than death for the last few hundred years.

Despite that, and despite his harshness towards Sir Roman, he still wanted to see the strange mortal again.

So for the first time he actually kept track of the passing days and a week later he returned to that temple. For the first time he appeared before a knight without hoping that it would be the last time he did so. 

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[lily-janus]

(In relation to your pinned post)

"I don't care what they think, to me, you are perfect." With roceit :)

To Me, You're Perfect

Summary: call Roman pathetic, but he still thinks about that scarred customer he served for a few minutes while he was a barista... he just hopes he'll get to see him again...

Pairing: pre-romantic Roceit

Word count: 2,500

Warnings: bullying, curse words, implied past abuse, self loathing, low self esteem, kissing, food mention. If I missed any let me know!

Thank you so much for the request! Had tons of fun with it! ...been a while since I finished a story heh, so this felt great! I hope you like it^^

-------------------------------------------------------

It's incredible how one encounter can stick with you for so long, a few words exchanged, one or two glances, and that moment is engraved deep into your memory like carvings on stone.

It's been over a year, and still Roman can't shake off the memory of that one customer he served while he was still a barista at a coffee shop:

…

It was a busy day so Roman had to take orders while making them and so he asked for the next one in line's order while his back was turned to them so he could keep up with the coffee orders.

"I'll have one large espresso with extra cream, and please do make it quick, I'm in a hurry but I won't survive this day without my coffee."

Roman chuckled. "Coming right-" the words died in his throat as he finally turned around to face the customer.

My god that man was gorgeous! One eye deep blue like the ocean, the other green like a forest Roman wants to travel in forever. A scar stretched over the left side of his face giving him the look of a tragic hero out of mythology-

"I know, it's hideous. You know, it's not polite to stare." The man raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hideous? N-no it's… you-"

"Name's Janus, just make it quick alright?"

And with that he went to sit and wait for his order, turning Roman's attention back to the endless line behind him.

Roman shook his head and went back to making coffee as fast as he could.

He was about to call Janus' name when he suddenly looked down at the cup and had an idea, he smiled to himself, this was his perfect chance to show off his foam-drawing skills!

"Order for Janus!"

Roman grinned with pride and anticipation as he called for the beautiful man to take his order.

"About time-" Janus stopped as he looked at his cup, a light blush forming on his cheeks as he saw Roman's best drawing of his face inside of a heart on the foam in his coffee.

He cleared his throat, shrugging. "I'm not impressed."

Roman huffed out a laugh. "Really? The color on your face tells me otherwise."

Janus huffed. "Whatever… goodbye then." And he took his cup and walked away.

…

That memory has always been at the back of Roman's mind ever since, holding to the hope he might get to see Janus again.

Roman looked everywhere, Instagram, Tumblr, twitter… the man was a ghost! He couldn't find him anywhere! All Roman could do was hope fate would be on his side.

And, as he walked into his first lecture of the day, it looks like it was.

His heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat as he walked into the classroom and saw Janus already sitting in the back row, back straight but looking as though he's trying to attract as less of attention as he could.

Roman couldn't imagine why, being as pretty as he was-

"Hey! Are you new here?" Someone walked inside after him, smiling at him.

Roman smiled back and nodded. "Yeah! Just started my first year."

The man patted him on the back lightly. "Good luck, if you have any questions I'm right here, name's Erick." He flushed him another smile.

"I will! Thank you." Roman went to sit next to Janus when Erick stopped him suddenly. 

"Just… word of advice, don't sit next to the freak, he's bad news." Erick glared at Janus who was either unaware or just didn't care.

Roman found that hard to believe, from the brief interaction he had with the man he seemed like a pretty decent person.

"I… Appreciate the advice but-"

"Come, sit with us at the front, it's easier to pay attention there, trust me." Erick tugged him along and Roman had no choice but to go with him.

Though sitting away from Janus didn't stop Roman from shooting glances at him all throughout the lecture.

When the lesson was over, Roman tried to get away from Erick and his friends so he could talk to Janus in private, but it was no use as Erick insisted he'll give Roman a tour of the university.

It was sweet how Erick wanted to help him get around but… he felt this unexplained urge to be with Janus. Which Roman knew was ridiculous, he only knew the man for less than 5 minutes… so why was he so drawn to him?

"Don't sit next to the freak"

Freak…

It seems like Janus isn't having a great time here.

"I know, it's hideous"

And it might very well have something to do with his scar…

At last, he was able to shake off Erick around lunch time, though by then he had no idea where Janus was.

Roman sighed in defeat and went to the bathroom to refresh a bit before his next lesson.

"Hey! Watch where you're going freak!" He heard someone yell outside of the restroom he was washing his hands at.

Janus…

Roman thought and his heartbeat picked up as he rushed outside to the source of the yelling.

Janus was clutching his notebook tightly in his hands as he glared at the bully who, Roman guessed, pushed him.

He huffed. "I'm the freak, you haven't looked in a mirror recently, have you?"

Roman snorted quietly at the clever retort though the bully didn't seem to appreciate it.

"Condescending prick!" He clenched his fist and sent a punch towards Janus' face.

Roman didn't think before he rushed to push Janus out of the way, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap, ending with Roman panting on top of Janus' stunned face.

Roman blushed a deep red as he realized their position before Janus shoved him off so he can get back to his feet.

"Aww what's wrong, freak? Can't face me on your own?" The bully teased.

Roman leaped to his feet, standing between the two. "Stop calling him that!"

The bully huffed. "What's it to you? I suggest you walk away, newbie, this has nothing to do with you-"

"What is the meaning of this?" A professor suddenly showed up in the hallway, gazing sternly as he looked at the three students.

The bully looked away, anger sipping away from him. "Nothing sir… we were just talking."

The professor eyed them suspiciously but nodded. "You better talk on the way to class, in that case, so you won't be late."

They all nodded. "Yes sir."

"I don't know who you are or why you did it, but I don't need your help." Janus hissed at him.

Roman frowned. "Um… you're welcome?"

"Just stay away alright? I've been doing just fine on my own, I don't need your pitty." Janus spat accusingly.

Roman bit his lip. "...I'm sorry… I was just trying to help…" he looked down at his shoes as they walked.

Janus sighed. "It's fine… today was just a lot…" he side eyed Roman. "...No one stood up to me before."

Roman blushed. "It's not fair how they treat you and… well I've dealt with enough bullies in my life. You just looked like you needed someone at your side so I just… jumped in… I'm sorry if I made things worse…"

Janus stopped and sighed again. "No, it's okay… I'm sorry I lashed out at you…" he cleared his throat and reached his hand. "Start over?"

Roman smiled and nodded, shaking his hand. "I'm Janus" he said and as Roman was about to respond, they suddenly locked eyes and all thought was driven away from his mind.

"...gay." was what came out instead. Janus raised an amused eyebrow. "I-I mean Roman, not gay… well, I am gay it's just not my name ah…" Roman blushed furiously and Janus chuckled.

"C'mon, gay, we better hurry before we're late to class." Janus teased and started walking again.

"You're not going to let it go anytime soon, are you?" Roman grumbled, cheeks still flushed.

"Not a chance, pretty boy." Janus smirked at him.

…

"Just ask already, will you?" Janus smiled knowingly at him as he took a bite from his sandwich.

It was a few days since Roman stood up for Janus and they were sitting on a bench outside and eating their lunch.

Roman blushed. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

Janus raised his eyebrow in that infuriatingly charming way of his. "Aha… so you're not wondering about my scar." 

Roman bit his lip in hesitation. "Maybe a little? I don't want you to feel obligated to tell me about it though…" he added quickly.

"Well… it's not something I like to talk about… but you might as well ask so we can get it out of the way." Janus said, a bit more hesitant now.

"Okay so… how did you get your scar?" Roman asked gently.

Janus shrugged. "Let's just call it childhood trauma and leave it at that." He said and Roman nodded.

"Now I get to ask you a personal question." Janus smirked.

"Wha- you told me to ask!" Roman protested.

"Ah ah ah." Janus reprimanded him, clearly enjoying this. "Play nice, pretty boy."

Roman sighed defeatedly. "Fine, what do you want to know?"

Janus stretched it out, seeming considerate even though he clearly had a question in mind.

"Would you spill it already?" Roman snapped.

Janus chuckled. "Alright alright, I'm just curious to know about your family, where did all of this come from." He gestured towards Roman when he said 'this'. 

Roman shook his head. "No, absolutely not." He said stubbornly.

"My word, Roman, are you really going to break the rules of our game? And after I shared with you my traumatic past?" Janus teased him and Roman hated how that was working on him.

"Okay, okay, you win." Janus grinned as Roman took a deep breath. "I… well not many people know this about me, which is very intentional, but… I have a twin brother."

Janus raised an eyebrow again. "That's your big secret?"

Roman huffed. "Well… to put it lightly… we're very different, like… two-different-galaxies different. For instance he has no tact whatsoever, he's very impulsive, loud and not to mention extremely inappropriate." Roman explained.

"Hmm I don't know, you two sound very similar." Janus smirked.

Roman inhaled a dramatic gasp. "You take that back!"

"No tact? Mister gay?" Janus pointed out. "Impulsive? Like, throwing-yourself-in-front-of-a-bully impulsive?" He continued.

"Well that's-"

"Loud? Mister Singing-In-The-Bathroom?" Janus added.

"We're not similar." Roman said angrily but Janus just chuckled.

"Whatever you say, pretty boy, we better get going anyway."

Ronan huffed in slight annoyance, but he can't stay mad at Janus for long. "Yeah okay."

…

After finally connecting with Janus, Roman was excited for the rest of the year with him and smiled to himself all the way to the university everyday, waiting to see him once again.

After about two weeks, however, Janus wasn't seated in his usual spot, nor did Roman see him at all in the first half of the day. He didn't answer any of his calls or texts either…

Something must have happened.

But Roman didn't know where he is, and the realization that he couldn't help him made him feel more helpless than he ever felt before.

"C'mon man! I really need to go! Open the door!" 

Roman looked up to see a student banging on the bathroom door desperately, someone must have locked it from the inside.

"There's, plenty of other bathrooms, just go away!"

Roman stopped dead in his tracks, he would recognize that sarcastic voice anywhere. 

Janus.

The student huffed in annoyance and ran to find a different bathroom.

Roman approched the door and leaned his ear on it, he could hear muffled sobs that made his heart ache.

"Janus?" He asked softly, but the sobs continued with no response from the scarred man on the other side.

"I know you're in there… you know you can talk to me, right? I want to help."

Still no response. 

Roman sighed. "I've been really worried about you all day… what happened?"

"...You need to stop… wasting time on me…" Janus finally said quietly. "I'm just a self-loathing freak… you know what everyone thinks about me… and they're right." Janus sobbed. "They're right, they're right, they're right." He repeated brokenly.

"Stop it, they're not right! You're smart, clever, sarcastic, charming and unbelievingly beautiful." Roman insisted.

Janus sniffed. "You're just saying it to make me feel better, I know you're my friend just because you feel sorry for me, admit it."

"I'm not! I liked you from the moment I saw you, Janus." Roman confessed

Janus huffed. "Two weeks ago?" He asked bitterly.

Roman took a deep breath. "No… a year and a half ago." He finally said.

Janus was silent for a few moments. "...What?"

Roman hesitated. "I know you don't remember it but… we actually met… a year and a half ago. It was brief and I only served you coffee but well… it stuck with me, you stuck with me." He took another deep breath. "So trust me when I say, I'm not hanging out with you because I pity you… I'm hanging out with you because… you're you."

"...The drawing on my coffee… that was you! Oh fuck I totally forgot about it!" Roman heard the click of the lock and the door swung open. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Roman blushed and looked away. "Well it was a while back and you didn't seem to remember so… I didn't want to come off as pathetic…"

Janus looked down. "Did you really… think of me this whole time?"

Roman smiled, tilting his chin lightly so their eyes would meet. "Janus, believe me when I say: I don't care what they think, to me, you're perfect. You always have been."

Janus' eyes sparkled at those words, making them look even more mesmerizing than before, if that was possible.

Before Roman could say anything else, he felt Janus tug at his collar and pulled him into a desperate kiss.

Roman melted into it, letting Janus kiss him however he wished. How many times since that day in the coffee shop has he imagined kissing him? Wondered how his lips will feel against his? Turns out, pretty fantastic!

They broke apart, gasping for air. Roman hugged Janus close, never wanting to let go. 

"You deserve the world, Janus, and I want to give it to you." He whispered softly and earnestly, kissing his scar gently.

Janus blushed and smirked at him. "Well, for now…" he pulled him into another heated kiss. "This shall suffice." He completed when they broke apart again, making them both chuckle.

Roman knew this was just the beginning and they still have a long way ahead, but right now, holding Janus like the precious treasure he was to him, Roman didn't worry about it all that much…

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Moxiety Week Masterlist 🩵💜

Day 1: Cuddles/Stuffed Animals Oneshot | Word Count: 380 | Pre-AA | Platonic

Day 2: Birthday/Surprise Oneshot | Word Count: 825 | Human AU | Romantic | & implied/background Logince, Dukeceit

Day 3: Roleswap/AU | Part 2 Multi-part | Incomplete | Light Side!Virgil Dark Side!Patton AU | Platonic/Pre-Relationship

Day 4: Movie Night Oneshot | Word Count: 651 | Canonverse | Romantic

Day 5: Falling Asleep Oneshot | Word Count: 396 | Canonverse | Romantic

Day 6: Learning to Dance Oneshot | Word Count: 1289 | Royalty AU | Romantic | & background Roceit

Day 7: Gift Exchange Oneshot | Word Count: 2009 | High School AU | Romantic | & Loceit

[does-this-look-logicality-to-you]

The Lawson Brothers' Bakery | Chapter Four: Second Cookie

words: 831 characters: Logan, Janus, Patton pairings: brotherly Loceit; platonic/pre-romantic Logicality, implied background Roceit warnings: food a/n: hey, wait a minute, didn’t i already write this chapter? you may recognize it as a one-shot request i wrote toward the end of last year. in fact, that fic actually inspired this entire story. i had to alter it a little, of course, to fit the ongoing storyline in this fic, but it’s pretty much the same. i promise, this is the only chapter you guys will recognize. everything else is completely new and original.

previous | first | next

“Logan, your favorite’s here.”

Logan rolled his eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, but he glanced out the window anyway to see if he was right. Sure enough, like clockwork, Patton Morris was once again making their way toward the bakery, the way they had every day for the past few months. They had gained more popularity since the day they had first come in, but Patton hadn’t missed a single day. Logan knew their routine by heart: Patton would walk in, give Cheesecake a pat on the head, come to the counter, greet the brothers, order a chocolate-chip cookie for themselves, sit at their regular table, and do work on their laptop for a few hours. The brothers had gotten so used to this that Logan always had a fresh batch ready for them.

“Good afternoon,” Logan greeted them when the door opened, the way he always did. Patton gave him a smile, but it wasn’t like their usual cheerful grin. It was much less genuine— almost forced, in fact. Patton came up to the counter, their pace a bit slower than normal and their feet dragging on the floor as if too heavy to lift.

“What can we get for you?” Logan asked them. He was sure he knew what the reply would be, but instead Patton surprised him.

“Two chocolate-chip cookies, please.”

This set off an alarm in Logan’s head. Why do they want two, instead of one? He examined Patton’s expression, and the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Patton always seemed so cheerful whenever they came into the shop to order, but this time their happiness seemed almost artificial. Why would they fake that? The answer was simple for Logan: Patton was having a bad day. It made perfect sense to him. Whenever he was in a crummy mood— no pun intended— he usually felt much better after treating himself to a pastry. Patton’s situation seemed to follow the same logic, and while Logan wasn’t particularly fond of the cookies— he personally preferred the brownies— it made sense that they would have a similar effect on him. If this was true, then Patton would probably want to have two cookies instead of one if they were having a less-than-good day.

Janus stepped into the back and emerged a moment later with their order. Patton reached into their pocket for their wallet, but Logan shook his head. “It’s on the house today,” he told Patton.

“Oh, it’s really no problem…”

“No, it’s okay. I insist.”

“Well… okay.” Patton smiled a real smile, the familiar sweet kind of smile Logan was used to. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate that.”

“Of course.” Logan paused for a moment before adding, “And… if you ever need someone to talk to, I am always here. So is Janus.”

“Really? I don’t want to be a bother…”

“You aren’t. In fact… Janus, can you get me a pen?”

“Sure,” he responded, taking an off-brand Sharpie marker from his apron pocket and handing it to him. Logan took the pen, removed the lid, and jotted down his name and phone number on the paper bag that contained the cookies. He handed Patton the bag.

“You can text me if you need to,” Logan told him. “In case you need to talk.” His heart gave a flutter as the other grinned at him.

“Thank you. Again. Really, I don’t know how to make this up to you.”

“There is no need. It’s what friends do.”

With one last smile, Patton sat down at their regular table, put down their backpack, and removed their laptop, the same way they had done for the past few months.

Janus waved Logan into the back room. “What was that about?” he whispered.

“They were having a bad day,” Logan replied simply.

“How did you know?”

“Was it not obvious?”

Janus shook his head. “No. What told you that?”

“Their smile was forced when they walked in, and they dragged their feet when they walked up to the counter. Besides, they never order two cookies unless they’re upset. How could you not tell?”

Janus sighed. “You’re such a simp.”

“I am not a ‘simp’!” He did finger quotes on the last word. “I have simply picked up on the habits of our most frequent customers and acted accordingly!”

“You don’t do that when Roman comes in.”

“That’s because you do it.”

“True.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He loved his brother dearly, but he could be quite the hypocrite. He went back to the counter. Patton, seeing the movement out of the corner of their eye, turned their head and gave Logan another one of their dazzling smiles. Logan couldn’t help but return it, something he rarely did. Patton’s smile widened and Logan felt his heart skip a beat.

Should I have given away merchandise free of charge? He had never done this for any other customer, and it was not something he had ever planned on doing. What was the point, when the cookies were inexpensive in the first place?

Still, he reflected. Seeing them smile like that is more than worth it.

[teacupfulofstarshine]

the crossroad of our destinies epilogue: spirit

cw: brief nonspecific death mention

wordcount: ~1.8k 

book one: earth // book two: fire // book three: air // book four: water // read it on ao3!!

Virgil stares into the mirror hanging on his wall, humming as Patton brushes through his long hair. “Are you sure we have enough time for intricate hair stuff, Pat?” 

“There’s a reason I woke you up early,” Patton says, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair to test for knots. “I knew this would take a while!” 

“But you have to get yourself ready for today too, will you have enough time?” 

“I have a lot less hair than you do.” Patton runs a hand over his shorn-short curls, and Virgil smiles. “Plus, your hair is so pretty! I wanna make sure that we show it off, you deserve to put it on display.” Virgil blushes, reaching up to tuck an unruly strand behind his ear. Ever since his encounter with the moon and ocean spirits, he’s had streaks of silver-white in his dark hair. Spirit-touched, the chief of the Northern Water Tribe called him. Blessed by Tui and La.

“What are you going to do with it?” 

“I’m gonna do some fancy braids! Maybe add a couple little buns on the top, I’m not sure. But we have to make you look wonderful for the ceremony!” 

“It’s not even about me,” Virgil grumbles. Patton just picks up a comb and carefully pulls it through the silky-smooth hair in his hands, humming as he separates it out into different sections. Virgil closes his eyes and lets Patton work, dozing off to the soothing feelings of Patton carding his hands through his hair.

“Aaaaaand done!” Virgil blinks his eyes open slowly, gasping when his reflection in the mirror comes into focus. Patton has braided his hair back into two small braided buns on the top of his head, with a longer main braid hanging down his back. The braided buns are held in place with small hairpins that gleam like stars, and the large braid in the back is looped around in an intricate design held in place with a silver and iridescent mother-of-pearl hairpin ornament designed to look like the full moon. 

“I look . . . beautiful.” 

“No need to sound so surprised, silly! You are beautiful.” Patton leans over his shoulder to press their cheeks together; Virgil leans into the touch gently. “Can you get yourself into your clothes, or do you need help?” 

“I’ll be alright,” Virgil says. “Go get yourself ready. Roman will slaughter us himself if we’re late to his wedding.” Patton laughs, pressing a chaste kiss to Virgil’s cheek before disappearing out of the room with a gust of wind. Virgil spends a few more moments admiring his intricately done black-and-silver hair before turning to the wardrobe in the corner. 

Inside is a resplendent outfit modelled in the style of traditional Southern Water Tribe ceremonial garments. Roman had ordered it specially, created from lighter fabrics that will keep him from overheating in the warmer climate of the Fire Nation. It’s a deep ocean-blue, trimmed with enough furs to be a Water Tribe garment but lacking the traditional heavier over-furs. The detailing is sewn in with pure silver thread, showing a pattern of waves, fish, and other sea creatures. On the back is a large full moon, composed of two koi fish swirling together in perfect tandem. 

Virgil hadn’t wanted to accept it, when Roman presented it to him, but Roman had insisted. Virgil’s never owned a garment this nice before, and he has to admit that he loves every aspect of it. Carefully, he steps into the pants and pulls on the robe, wrapping it around himself and carefully winding the broad silver ribbon around his waist. Someone knocks on the door as he’s fumbling to tie the bow. 

“Virge?” Thomas calls. “Are you ready to go?” 

“Not yet! Can you come in and help me out real quick?” 

Thomas ducks inside the room. He’s wearing a dark green jacket in the traditional Earth Kingdom style, embroidered on the back with the symbols of the four nations, and black pants edged in gold. A large Earth Kingdom symbol is emblazoned over his breast, and his hair has been wrestled into a decent-looking style. “You look very official,” Virgil says. Thomas looks at him, and his jaw drops open. 

“You look . . . wonderful.” Virgil feels his face heat up in a fierce blush as Thomas takes a step closer. “What do you need?” 

“The . . . I - the ribbon,” Virgil manages. “I need it tied in a bow behind me, but I - I can’t see -” 

“Of course! Here, let me -” 

Thomas comes up behind him, and his warm hands brush over Virgil’s colder ones as he takes the ribbon. “Your hair is amazing. Who did it, Patton?” 

“He woke me up early to get it all done. I was worried he wouldn’t have enough time to get dressed, but I think he’s okay.” 

“Too tight?” 

“No, it’s good.” Thomas makes a few more quick loops and tugs the bow tight. “There we go, you look perfect! I mean, you always look perfect, but I -”

Thomas cuts himself off, but Virgil is grinning when he turns around. “Thanks, Thomas. I appreciate you.” He smiles, and Thomas reaches forward to tuck a stray hair behind Virgil’s ear. Virgil doesn’t think Patton had left a single strand of hair out of place; was it all just an excuse to touch him? Thomas’s fingers are warm and tender against his cheek. 

The door slams open, and the moment shatters. Logan storms in, wearing an outfit that is styled identically to his brother’s but is entirely dark green, patterned with Earth Kingdom symbols and a large golden badger-mole on the back of his jacket. “We are going to be late if you all do not move your asses!” he shouts. 

“You look nice in your outfit, Logan!” Thomas says, clearly trying to distract his brother from what’s happening. “We were just making sure that Virgil’s outfit looks good.” 

“Well I think you all look fabulous,” Logan says sarcastically. “Let’s go already!” 

Thomas throws Virgil a smile over his shoulder as Logan grabs his arms and storms off into the hallway. Virgil takes a moment to gather his composure before he follows them. 

*~*~*~*~*

The ceremony is beautiful. 

Thomas, as the Avatar, officiates the wedding. Roman is resplendent in dark red Fire Nation robes, decorated with gold curling around his sleeves and dragons twining together on his back and his chest. The golden flame crown gleams around his dark topknot, and his face is soft and open, full of love and adoration. Remus, in matching red robes decorated with golden lightning, stands behind him as his best man. 

Dolos, in contrast, wears golden robes, detailed with red flames. His hair is pulled back in a simple braid, showing the scar on the side of his face. He’s stopped being afraid of it since the defeat of Roman and Remus’s father, and he isn’t ashamed to show it to the throngs of assembled Fire Nation citizens now. He wears a delicate circlet of braided gold and a flame-shaped golden hair comb pinned at the top of his braid. 

Virgil stands with Logan behind Dolos. He’s formed a relatively close friendship with Dolos in the few years since the defeat of the Fire Lord, and he stands proudly as his best man. Patton, resplendent in layers of thin fabric that all assemble to form a traditional Air Nomad robe with a flowy cape-train-thing arching behind him, stands behind Remus on Roman’s side. Emile is in the front row of guests, already sobbing audibly into a handkerchief. 

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Fire Lord Roman and his beloved, Dolos,” Thomas says, voice clear and firm, and Virgil smiles. 

*~*~*~*~*

The ceremony ends with Virgil bending a stream of water up over Roman and Dolos’s heads in the shape of a huge heart. He bends beautiful fractals of ice up out of the heart to create a halo around it, and when Roman and Dolos press their mouths together in a kiss to seal the marriage bond he bends it to explode in a shower of sparkling ice crystals that rain down on the happy couple and the crowd. Patton airbends a shower of rose petals down alongside the ice crystals, and Virgil smiles when one lands on Roman’s nose and nearly makes him sneeze in his new husband’s face. 

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas catches up with him later that evening, on the balcony overlooking the wedding reception. There are paper lanterns suspended in the dimming sky, decorated with the colors of the Fire Nation and delicate cutout dragons. In the center of the pavilion, Roman and Dolos spin in slow, lazy circles, leaning their heads together and giggling like children. Remus is whirling Patton around in wild circles, and Logan is quietly chatting with Emile on the fringes of the party. 

“How are you doing?” Thomas asks. Virgil exhales, staring out over the party. 

“It’s pretty stressful, being down there with all those people. So I’m up here watching them instead of interacting with them.” 

“If it okay if I’m here, then? Do you want me to -”

“No!” Virgil yelps. “I - uh - I mean - you don’t - you don’t count as people. It’s like . . . I know you, I’m comfy with you, I don’t have to expend a ton of energy to talk to you. So you don’t count as people. You’re good.” 

Thomas smiles, leaning on the railing next to him. “Okay, then, I guess I’ll stay.” He bumps his shoulder against Virgil’s, and Virgil bumps him back. “Your ice was incredible.” 

“Really? You liked it?” 

“It made their wedding kiss look magical. I’m sure it was a moment they’ll never forget.” Virgil feels his face heat up with a blush, and Thomas laughs. “Roman definitely loved it. It was his idea to have you and Patton spice up the wedding, remember?” 

“Yeah . . .” Virgil’s gaze finds Roman again. He and Dolos spin so that Roman is facing the balcony; he looks up at Virgil and smiles, mouthing Thank you over Dolos’s head before leaning back into his new husband. “I’m glad that we won. I’m glad that you managed to take down Roman’s dad.” 

“Me, too,” Thomas says. “I’m just lucky that I didn’t have to kill him. I never wanted to kill him. It’s just . . .”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Virgil says. “I understand. But I’m glad that you didn’t have to kill him, either.” Thomas presses his shoulder more firmly into Virgil’s; Virgil leans his head onto Thomas’s arm. “Is this okay?”

“It’s perfectly fine.” Thomas leans his head on top of Virgil’s. His hand slides into Virgil’s, warm and broad in contrast to Virgil’s slender and cool, tenderly curling his fingers around Virgil’s palm. There’s plenty of opportunity for Virgil to pull away if he’s not comfortable. Virgil shifts his hand and carefully pushes his fingers in between Thomas’s, squeezing their hands together. 

“Is this okay?” Virgil asks again. 

“It’s perfectly fine,” Thomas repeats. The moon rises, full and bright, over the wedding party, and Virgil swears that he sees his mother’s smile reflected in the pattern of the craters. 

[bonesthebeloved]

And the last bird flew to the south

Summary: Deceit poisoned himself with his own venom. On purpose.

TRIGGER /SQUICK WARNING: character death, Implied/referenced suicide, poison, snake venom, description of poisoning (idk how poison works so rip that I guess)

Relationship : Romantic Roceit

-

Deceit was dead.

The sky was painted bright orange as the birds traveled south, the leaves on the ground painting the world in shades of brown and red and yellow and Deceit was dead.

He'd found him under an old oak tree. The wind having blown some of the leaves around him on top of him making it look like he'd been laying there for days.

He'd found him and he'd screamed. Falling to his knees, sword falling into the leaf pile with a wet thud signaling that it was now muddy and needed to be cleaned later but that didn't matter because he was here on this muddy hill while the cold autumn wind chilled his skin and ruffled his hair and Deceit was dead.

A liquid as yellow as the leaves surrounding him dripped from fangs bared in an effort to look the part. The colour so bright it seemed to almost glow where it was dripping from shiny white monsterous fangs and two deep holes in an arm with veins as black as the night would be if all stars were to be smothered by the clouds that were gathering in the distance.

He'd found him before the sentence 'Deceit is dead' could be applied to their situation.

He'd found him just when he'd pierced his own skin. Leaning against the old oak tree as if he was posing. The picture looking too serene. Too peaceful for him to realise what exactly was going on until Deceit slumped against the tree and it had all come crashing down.

He'd ripped the snake's head away from his arm after twenty seconds of poison shooting through the fangs and into the blood flow.

He'd taken five minutes to go fully under and ten more to stop breathing.

But now here he was. A brave man who had been too proud to admit his defeat in the courtroom. A proud man who had been too brave to hide his feelings from him any longer than necessary. A dead man.

A man he held in his arms a dozen times. Warming his ever freezing body and feeling his own heart melt a little when the hat came of and he had the privilege to kiss the crown of the snake's head like one would kiss a trophy they'd just obtained. Still careful like it would shatter if they pressed too hard. Still loving and sweet and soft and all things good.

But Deceit was dead.

And he didn't know what to do other than brush the red and yellow and brown off his body and lay his head on his lap. Other than stroke his hair and look out over the rolling hills sprinkled with trees that were shedding their leaves as if it was a race.

And he'd read the words the other had written for him before coming here. And he'd known that this would be how he'd find him.

But to see him do it. To watch him go and for there to be nothing he could do about it made something inside of him crack. Something fragile yet unbreakable earned a crack deep within him and he knew that no amount of glue or sticky tape would fix it.

Because his hat had rolled away from him and was laying a bit further away.

Because he looked so vulnerable like this that the fangs looked cute instead of threatening.

Because his own venom was slowly turning all of his veins black and he watched it creep up his neck and infect his hands that were no longer hidden by the gloves because he'd taken them of and rolled up his sleeves to...

Because the wind blew leaves onto the both of them and the picture they painted looked almost as if it should be the poster for a sad movie; a tragic lovestory.

Because Deceit was dead.

And even with all the power he possessed in this realm, even with his ability to bend reality to his will here and with the wind picking up and storm clouds rushing towards them turning the bright yellow into a muddy mustard colour and the red into brown and the brown into black, even with all of this power Roman couldn't undo harm a side had inflicted.

He couldn't take away the venom that was soaring through Deceit's blood. Infecting every part of his being and destroying his body up until the point that recovery is impossible.

He couldn't breathe life into the snake's lungs because the poison destroyed all functions.

He would not be able to accept that

Deceit was dead.

And while a freshly made Deceit woke up in an unfamiliar room, looking around curiously and wondering about what type of clothing would make the best impression on the other sides he was yet to meet, Roman sat on a stormy hill under an oaktree as the last bird left its nest to travel to the south, black clouds covered the stars above and the final leaf was tucked lose from its branch to float down gently, the wind blowing it far enough for it to land on a cold chest.

And Deceit was dead.

-

@lance-alt are you happy now? Is this what you wanted when you asked for Deceit poisoning himself with his own venom????? You happy that you made my sad by writing this parent????? (I'm kidding I love you please don't un-adopt me aaa)

-

Taglist: @purp-man @crazycookie13o @deceitifullies101 @sapphire-knight @ragingdumpsterfiremess @chronophobica @lance-alt @brokendaughter666 @kittt

[ambersky0319]

Yo I have a fanfic idea, So basically,During a Sanders Sides video Logan is summoned while he and Remus are cuddling.Remus and Logan are both summoned and uhhh some awkward explanations are required. (Sorry if this sucks,thanks for taking time to even read this,Also I’m a really big fan of your intrulogical stuff)

When you somehow make this slightly angsty-

Warnings : Implied unsympathetic sides at the end(excluding Remus and Logan)

Masterpost

------------------------------------

Remus hummed gently, nestling further into Logan's arms. Logan laughed softly, holding Remus a bit tighter and pressing a light kiss to the back of Remus's neck. "You know, we can always do this more often. You can come into my room anytime."

"I know, but Dee needs help taking care of the others... Besides, it's even more fun waiting for a chance to come in here and relax."

Logan made a quiet noise of disagreement but didn't argue, instead nuzzling Remus's neck lightly and placing more featherlight kisses onto the exposed skin.

It was nice, being able to just relax and hold one another. It was so rare they got to do this.

"Ever tell you I love you?" Remus mumbled, twisting ever so slightly in Logan's arms and burrowing further into his chest. Logan started to comb his fingers through Remus's hair.

"You have, many times my duke."

Remus giggled tiredly, leaning up and placing a soft kiss to Logan's lips. "I still think I should say it more-"

"What the he'll are you doing on Logan?!"

Roman's voiced pierced through their whispers, thoroughly startling Remus and Logan. Remus shoved himself away as quick as he could, face reddening quickly. Logan's eyes were wide as he stared at the others, taking long breaths to try and stop his heart from beating into his throat.

"Um- it's not what it looks like, uh, you're all dreaming-"

"Remus, quit lying." Remus fell quiet at Deceit's words, almost recoiling.

"I did not see this coming..." Thomas mumbled, gaze flicking to all his other sides.

"Honestly he could do better-"

"Virgil!" Patton hissed, lightly hitting the anxious side's arm.

"You guys aren't... Mad?" Logan asked hesitantly, shifting ever so closer to Remus.

"Oh we're absolutely furious." Deceit rolled his eyes. "Logan, Remus, we ain't mad. Well, I'm not at least." He flashed them a small, sympathetic smile. "I think you broke Roman though."

Sure enough, Roman was hiding his face, mumbling to himself. "I got this," Deceit claimed, before placing an ever so gentle kiss to Roman's cheek. It startled the fanciful side out of his trance, cheeks flaring red.

"I'm with Deceit, I'm not mad," Thomas said. "I think I'm just a bit... Confused?"

"Yeah. How did you end up with someone like him?" Virgil pointed first to Logan then to Remus. "I mean, it's Remus."

"I'm right here, Virge!" Remus huffed, crossing his arms. Virgil just rolled his eyes.

"Why was I never informed that you two were together? Like, why? I'm literally your twin, Remus!"

Remus raised a brow, unimpressed. "Please, you wouldn't have been happy about it if we'd told you earlier. Not until you started fucking Dece-"

"Don't drag me into this!"

Virgil snorted, covering his mouth to muffle his laugh.

"We can always explain everything later... Why were we summoned in the first place?" Logan inquired.

"Unimportant now!" Patton piped. He sat cross legged in front of the couple still on the couch. "Tell us everything this instant."

"Um..."

"I think whatever's-"

"No, yeah, I wanna hear about this." Thomas sat beside Patton, leaning forward just a bit in eagerness. The others following their actions quickly.

Remus and Logan shared a glance, Remus biting his lip, unsure. Because there would be no way Patton or Virgil would be accepting of this right off the bat, never in a million years. But what use was hiding it now?

It would have been very useful, they later realized, to have just lied. Maybe it would have allowed them to remain happy.

------------------------------------

Taglists

Just ask to be added or removed to either!

Intrulogical Taglist

@cress-the-fander @worm-does-shit @enby-ralsei  @jadedmidnight @virgilisacinnamonroll @ohgeneralmygeneral @asthmatic-trash-bastard @remusownsmyuwus @alexinthebathroomataparty  @diadems-arewornon-capita @the-bethanista

TS Taglist

@treasureofpriam @theloveliestsweetspongy @tacochippy @anderswrites @romanknite @0beansprout0 @random-fandom-dragon @daflangstlairde @princerhubarb @that-one-ts-artist @heyitsmeimjustkindahere @aromanticandaromatic @deliciouslycrookedme @batpinkstudentpersona @avocados26 @fandomloverangel @red-eyes88 @adarkgreensoul @analogicallythinking @thatreallyawkwardpotato @insanegoldie2 @sos-fandoms @ditto-has-all-my-uwus @alexkittycat1 @len-art-trash @faithyfander @an-absolute-failure @lexilucacia @o-hello-its-me @fearthesmolpotato @moxiety-my-love @thatonenerdphotographer  @diadems-arewornon-capita @morrogirl9024 @thefandomnerd15 @sulphur-and-honey @aroaceagenderfluid

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Stay Now, Little Prince

Prompts: Hi there!!! Can I request a romantic DLAMP + platonic dukeceit fic? The idea I had was from the incorrect quote:

Remus: And that's when you'll kill the light sides!

*Janus doodling the light sides and him holding hands with hearts all around them*: Kiss the light sides! Got it!

Remus:........ Why do I even try with you?

Except! It's a superhero AU! And these two are the vigilantes/villains (your choice really) and Remus is secretly rooting for Janus and also gives the others a shovel talk *read*: threatens to drag them to hell and back and through the core of the earth and feeding their remains to his shoebill if they so much as think about hurting Jan

You don't have to write it tho! 💝 - anon

Hiya! Will you be up to. writing an "enemies to lovers" Roceit au? By that I mean they act like enemies but behind closed doors are best friends and maybe more!!!! Your writing is beautiful and magnificent and you're amazing!!!!!! - anon

Hi hi hi hi!!! I LOVE your writing it's- *so* amazing- and I was wondering- (if you're still taking requests ofc) if we coul have more of that SWEET SWEET roceit content in that one hero roman fic? maybe talking more about how he rekindles his relationship with remus after being so far apart, how janus helps him come out of his shell, and how he deals with the fear of being abandonded by the two of them? tysm i hope you have an awesome day!!! :D - anon

Y'all really like this au huh

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: self-destructive behavior, gaslighting, implied/referenced torture (kinda)

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 10063

Cities are full of bright lights and shadows alike. Those that live in the light, the heroes, the ‘good guys.’ Those that live in the shadows, their grisly work only illuminated when the sun deigns to show its face again. Sometimes the shadows are too deep. Sometimes the spotlights are too much.

The Prince, Roman Prince, is the Golden Boy of the city. The newsreels, the cameras, the public adore him. But they don’t see the winces when the bulbs go off right in his face, or whispers to be better, do better, perform better from the people that pull him aside after every daring adventure.

No one knows the name Janus, but they know his work. They don’t shout, they whisper. They huddle together in the dark, searching for the light so as not to get caught in his coils.

But sometimes, when spotlights are too bright and shadows too flat, a little prince will make its way into the snake’s den.

-----------------------

Roman opens his eyes.

He expects to see the sterile white ceiling. He expects to see the pockmarks in the tile. He expects to see the bedcovers, the tray of first aid supplies he never clears away properly until the inspection comes, and the single photo.

He doesn’t expect a darker ceiling with a soft amber light, nor the linen sheets that slide carefully off his shoulders as he sits up. He winces slightly at the pull in his middle and immediately puts a hand to it. It doesn’t come away red.

The bed is empty except for him, the other side neat and pristine. He swallows.

He didn’t expect to wake up. Not after what happened.

Not after what he did.

He doesn’t know what pulled him all the way across the city, dragging blood everywhere he went in the grooves the guilt had etched behind him. Only that he needed to get somewhere away from the horrors he’d left, away from the bright lights and cityscapes.

And white lies…and masquerades…

He shakes his head to clear it. Now is not the time.

But did he have to come here? Did he have to walk—no, crawl on his knees before the Serpent and willingly let teeth be set to his throat? And why? For what?

He runs a hand over the wound again.

The better question would be why the Serpent hasn’t killed him yet.

Why he all but invited him inside, took him into his private rooms and patched him up. He’s used to rough patch jobs, used to being pushed around a little as he’s fixed to the point of maneuverability and ushered back to his room to lick the rest of them away, but that wasn’t what happened at all.

No, the Serpent had been…gentle.

The hands on his skin hadn’t touched him to bruise him, hadn’t wandered a little too far this way or that. They’d…they’d stitched him up and…and comforted him. Even when he confessed his mistakes, when he’d said that he was a coward, they’d…the Serpent hadn’t hurt him.

Only when there’s a soft twinge does Roman realize he’s been rubbing at the stitches. He flings his hand away from himself like he’s been burned and quickly lies back down, reducing the strain on the wound as much as possible. He stares at the ceiling, eyes wide, trying to make the ache in his chest fade. If he rips them out…

Well. The window for killing him easily has probably passed, right? Would…would he still kill him now? After all he’s done?

Roman has plenty of marks that attest to the Serpent’s creativity.

Though…now that he thinks about it…the Serpent has never been the one to hurt him directly. He’s had people to do that.

He’s had Remus.

Remus.

Memories.

Memories of another body pressed against him as they shivered together in the cold, wrapped under a single sheet so thin that they could feel their nails scratching together as they pulled it closer around themselves. Memories of a streak of white hair in his face when he woke up, limbs twisted so closely around each other they didn’t know whose was whose. Memories of his throat screaming in protest as he cried out, as they were ripped apart and locked in separate cages.

Rooms, Roman. They aren’t cages, we aren’t villains.

He barely remembers having another voice tell him that wasn’t true.

But Remus is alive. Remus is alive and he’s here and—and—

They didn’t kill him. They never killed him. They may have abandoned him, left him for dead, but they didn’t kill him.

The ache in his chest blossoms and whines. He wants his brother back.

Footsteps.

Roman shuts his eyes and hopes whatever position he’s in looks at least somewhat convincing. Maybe he can fake startling awake, he’s done that enough times to have some practice. Maybe he can make it look like he’s just waking up, maybe then they won’t—

“Little prince, you really don’t have to pretend to be asleep.”

Well, he certainly startles, much to the Serpent’s amusement. He quickly brings a hand to his chest to make sure he hasn’t pulled any of the stitches and tries not to scoot away as the Serpent sits on the edge of the bed.

“There’s no need to be so skittish,” the Serpent chuckles, “really, little prince, you didn’t seem this afraid last night.”

Last night. When everything in his body ached and screamed from lights and cameras and people and open air and only by holding a knife to his own throat could he get away from it.

“Roman.”

“Sorry,” he says quickly, “I just…”

“You were drifting,” the Serpent says softly, “did you see something?”

“S-see something?”

“A memory, a flashback, an afterimage…” The Serpent lifts a hand to card through his hair. “Whatever you want to call it. Something from last night, maybe?”

Roman swallows, trying not to lose himself in the gentle fingers in his hair but it’s so hard. No one…the Serpent has always known, somehow, how to throw him off balance.

“Little prince?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Shh-shh-shh, none of that, now,” the Serpent chides, the hand coming to lift up his chin, “I’m not angry with you.”

Roman blinks. “You’re…not?”

Something flickers across the Serpent’s expression too quick to be seen. “No, Roman, I’m not.”

“Oh.”

The Serpent watches him for a moment longer before sighing and standing up, lifting Roman’s chin as he goes. “Come out to the living room, little prince.”

Roman stands obediently and follows, body adjusting to the order before he’s fully understood it. He tucks his shoulders, bows his head, keeping his gaze high enough to see the Serpent’s path, but no higher. He isn’t walking toward the counter this time, nor is there anyone else in the apartment.

He tries to pretend the ache is just from the healing wound.

“Sit,” the Serpent orders, tapping the arm of a chair that Roman shouldn’t be allowed to touch, let alone sit in, but he doesn’t dare disobey. “Good.”

Oh, that should not do what it does to him.

The Serpent sits across from him, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. He reaches for one of the teacups on the coffee table between them and gestures for Roman to do the same. Roman picks it up and immediately winces. He isn’t allowed to hold fragile things, he’ll break them. But he can’t just refuse the Serpent’s offer so he sets it as carefully as he can in his lap. He can feel the Serpent’s eyes on him so he takes the smallest of sips.

It’s warm, slightly spiced, and sweet. He finds himself relax, just a little.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m glad.” The Serpent sets his off cup to the side and folds his hands in his lap. “I learned something interesting about you last night.”

Roman’s hands begin to tremble and he quickly sets the cup down. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” He tilts his head. “Well, several things.”

He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to die.

“You have a very high pain tolerance, little prince.”

Roman swallows. “Isn’t that to be expected for someone like me?”

“Mm, even little heroes aren’t immune to stab wounds,” the Serpent says easily, raising an eyebrow, “unless there’s another side to your powers you’ve been hiding from me?”

He shakes his head and immediately bites his lip. The Serpent’s mouth tugs up into a half-smirk.

Shit.

“So then you know you’ve got a high pain tolerance, hmm?” He tilts his head. “That does make a few things click into place.”

Roman stays quiet.

“You also seem quite used to operating under severe blood loss,” the Serpent continues, “are you being captured by others as well? Do they regularly leave you to bleed out on your own? I’m quite jealous.”

He isn’t quick enough to hide his flinch. The Serpent’s eyes narrow.

“Perhaps that would explain why you refuse painkillers, even though you know it does more damage to your body in the long run.”

The curtains are drawn, Roman realizes too late, he can’t tell what time of day it is. Is it night? Did he sleep all the way through a day? Is it the middle of the day? Are people walking around? If he screams, could someone hear him?

No. He can’t. A fist closes around his throat before the thought is fully formed and he swallows, trying to dislodge it.

“You’re drifting again.”

Roman’s gaze snaps back to the Serpent, who looks at him with badly concealed amusement. He quirks an eyebrow.

“If I’d have known my living room would be so distracting,” he purrs, “I would have let you stay in bed.”

The tips of Roman’s ears turn red and heat rushes through his chest. The Serpent chuckles.

“Come, now, what is it? Not enough of an ‘evil lair’ for you, is that it?” He tilts his head. “Is your only impression of me dark warehouses and abandoned factories?”

“You’ve not given me a lot of evidence to the contrary.”

The Serpent spreads his hands and gestures around. “Then how do you explain this, little prince? You’re the one who found your way here, after all, all on your lonesome.”

Another smirk.

“Am I truly so intriguing, or is it the allure of my interior design?”

The words stick in Roman’s throat. The Serpent raises an eyebrow and laughs.

“Oh, and here I thought we were back to business as usual.” He idly toys with the fingers on one gloved hand. “I have missed your witty remarks from all of our other talks.”

“Those were interrogations.”

“Mm.” The Serpent doesn’t blink.

“Is…this an interrogation?”

“Yes.”

Roman stiffens. He glances down at the chair, expecting restraints to appear out of nowhere. His gaze darts to the cup sitting innocuously on the table in front of him.

“It’s just tea,” the Serpent says, “with a little honey.”

He looks up. The Serpent cocks his head to the side, waiting for Roman to say something. “Why are you not pointing a gun at me?”

“Guns aren’t my style, little prince, and I did just spend a considerable amount of time fixing a hole someone put in you. Seems a little counterproductive to put one in you myself, now, doesn’t it?”

“Then what’s stopping me from attacking you?”

The Serpent raises an eyebrow and chuckles, his voice rolling through the room and leaving Roman breathless. “Oh, little prince, I think the time has passed for threats, don’t you?”

“You’re threatening me.”

“Am I?” The Serpent flicks his hand. “I’ve just answered your question about whether or not this is an interrogation. How is that a threat?”

Roman’s somehow forgotten that every exchange they have ends with game, set, match to the Serpent. He swallows the lack of response on his tongue and feels his shoulders square.

“Look at you,” the Serpent murmurs, “all tough now. Is it truly so easy for you? To shrug that armor back on when you know it doesn’t work?”

Roman remains silent.

“Oh, let’s not do that,” he sighs, his hand tapping against the arm of the chair, “the silent treatment isn’t an effective strategy for you, little prince, especially when you do so well with the quips.”

He holds his tongue.

The Serpent sighs. “Then I suppose I won’t tell you where your brother is.”

Roman’s head snaps up. “What?”

The Serpent just looks at him, a slight condescending expression on his face. Roman feels his cheeks start to heat up and his hands clench into fists in his lap.

“What do you want?”

The Serpent is quiet for a moment. Then he shifts his weight and leans forward. “I have questions, little prince. I want you to answer them for me.”

“And then you’ll tell me where Remus is?”

“And then I’ll tell you where Remus is.”

Roman takes a deep breath. For Remus. He can do this for Remus. He’s waited over a decade for his brother, he can…he can get through this. He just has to be very, very careful.

The Serpent watches him, huffing softly. “You still look unsure, little prince.”

“Just not used to not being restrained.”

The Serpent’s eyes darken and a smile slowly cuts its way across his face. “Is that an invitation, little prince?”

Oh, god, not that fucking voice. Roman splutters, face bright red, trying to come up with something to say.

“I’m teasing,” the Serpent says with a softer smile a moment later, “relax, little prince, you’re alright.”

Roman isn’t sure which he hates more, how easily the Serpent is able to rile him up, or how easy it is for him to calm him right back down.

“I just want you to talk to me,” he continues, still in that soft voice, “answer my questions the way you like, try and be honest. My hospitality is not contingent on the information you give me, nor will I hurt you if I don’t like the answers I get.”

“Why should I believe you?”

The Serpent nods to his chest. “Have I not established a little bit of goodwill with you, little prince? Am I not the only person you can trust?”

“That hasn’t exactly worked out for me in the past,” Roman snaps before cold horror rushes through his veins.

It’s too late. The words are already out.

“What does that mean?”

His tongue ices over. He stares at the table. After a few moments, the Serpent sighs.

“You have my word I won’t hurt you, little prince,” he murmurs.

Roman looks up at him slowly. “…I thought you said this was an interrogation.”

“I’m asking you questions about information you seem hesitant to give me. Is that not an interrogation?”

“But you’re not hurting me to try and get it.”

“Is that all you think an interrogation is?”

“That’s the kind I’m used to.”

The Serpent rolls his eyes. “The standards around here…whatever happened to keeping oneself civilized?”

A giggle bubbles out of Roman’s throat before he can stop it and the Serpent winks. His expression turns a notch more serious after a moment and Roman takes a deep breath.

“You’re allowed to drink your tea, by the way,” he says, gesturing to the abandoned cup, “that’s why it’s there.”

“Did you drug it?”

The Serpent levels him with a look. “Yes. I spent an entire night patching you up after you bled all over my carpet, dressed you in my clothes, let you sleep in my bed, and held you as you cried without reactivating my security system, risking my own life to make sure you were alright, so I could then poison you.”

Roman sheepishly picks the cup up. “…you could’ve just said no.”

“And where would the fun in that be?”

The tea is good. Of course the Serpent has excellent taste in tea. He drinks for a moment in silence before the Serpent opens his mouth again.

“You’re touch starved,” he says quietly, “do you know how severe it is?”

He swallows the drink of tea. “I don’t know how you measure that.”

“You said I was the last person to touch you before last night. Down at the docks, over that disagreement with the freighter.”

‘Disagreement with the freighter,’ he says, not ‘black-market arms dealings that threatened the safety of the city.’

“Yeah.”

The Serpent frowns. “But that was almost a month ago, little prince, surely someone else has touched you since then?”

Roman shifts in the chair. “I mean, I’ve gotten into fights since then and that…that counts, right?”

He doesn’t say that the fists burned nearly as much as the Serpent’s hand on his face did, nor that he sometimes let himself get hit just to let the burn sting a little more.

“…that was the last time someone handled you gently,” the Serpent says slowly, “that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

Roman nods. The Serpent stares into space for a moment, thinking. One of his hands twitches.

“You were surprised to see Remus.” He tilts his head. “Why?”

“I thought he was dead.”

“Why?”

“I, um…hadn’t heard from him in a while.”

The Serpent quirks an eyebrow. “Do you know how many times Remus has been a few feet away from you?”

Roman stiffens. Is…is the Serpent saying that Remus…before, when he’s—when he’s been caught, has Remus—was Remus ever the one to—to—

“Judging by his response last night,” the Serpent says, “he didn’t realize it either, but that doesn’t seem like the nosy little prince who managed to figure out my address, does it?”

Oh. So Remus wasn’t—he would’ve seen. He would’ve known it was Roman. Kind of difficult to not know who the person you’re beating is. His shoulders slump with relief, but not enough to wash away the knowledge that he wouldn’t have cared.

Even if it had been Remus every single time.

“You haven’t answered my question, little prince.”

He blinks. “I, um…the circumstances under which I couldn’t contact him were what made me think he was dead.”

The Serpent hums. “And what circumstances were those?”

“…ones where I couldn’t really question them.”

The Serpent chuckles. “You, the little rascal who snuck into my warehouses and investigated every scrap of intel I told you? You, the wrench in so many plans that had been laid out?”

“Didn’t realize you paid such close attention to me.”

“Clearly, little prince, we’ve not been operating on the level of mutual respect I thought we were.” The Serpent raises a hand to his chest. “I’m hurt.”

Roman huffs, taking another sip.

“You did find this place, I suppose,” the Serpent sighs, “which begs the question. Why drop the matter of your brother’s death so quickly?”

His throat is strained for three days. He loses every inch of ground he gains on his voice by crying out for a brother that isn’t coming back. They tell him he ran away, they tell him he’s delusional. One time they try and tell him he never had a brother.

He’s punished for a week after he screams that they’re wrong, but they never try and lie to him like that again.

He stops asking when they bring in a body in the middle of the night with a streak of white hair.

“…because I thought I saw him.”

The Serpent hums, idly flicking a speck of dust from his glove. “But he’s alive.”

A shuddering breath leaves him. “But he’s alive.”

“So what does that mean?”

Roman blinks. “What?”

The Serpent meets his gaze easily, spreading his hands. “What does that mean, little prince? You thought he was dead, you thought you saw him dead, but he’s alive. How does that change things?”

Remus isn’t dead. They didn’t find his body. It wasn’t his body they brought in that night under the cover of darkness, where none of them could see because of how dark it was.

…even though they passed right under the light outside Roman’s room.

Even though the morgue is on the other side of the building.

Even though the sheet just happened to flop down.

Roman’s eyes widen.

They’d known.

They’d known it wasn’t Remus.

They probably didn’t think it was Remus.

They wanted him to see. They wanted him to see what he would think was his dead brother so he would stop fighting. So he would give in. They wanted him to see it. They did it so he could see it. They put on a show just for him and they made him think his brother was dead.

They…they did that.

To him.

To all of them.

…so what does that mean?

Roman could laugh. He won’t, but he could. He could cry, he could laugh, he could scream.

It doesn’t mean anything.

Some part of him always suspected. Always thought that maybe they’d had him killed, or at the very least, didn’t care enough to try and stop it if it happened. It wasn’t the farthest stretch to imagine they’d do something like that.

Not after everything else.

Roman takes a drink of tea.

“It doesn’t.”

Surprise flickers over the Serpent’s face. “No? Not at all?”

Roman shakes his head. “No. Remus is alive. That’s…that’s all that matters.”

“Alive…and not with you.”

“No.”

The Serpent frowns at him for a moment. Then he sets his cup back on the table. “You seem remarkably sure about that for someone who was near incoherent just from seeing his brother last night.”

Roman shrugs. The Serpent waits a moment longer before asking another question.

“Why did you come here, little prince?”

“I think I’ve answered this one already.”

“I’ve led you to answers,” the Serpent corrects, “you’ve not exactly volunteered one yourself.”

“I did. I said you were the only person I could trust.”

“Mm.” The Serpent steeples his fingers. “And why is that?”

Roman swallows. “You…you’re the only one who hasn’t lied to me.”

Now the Serpent truly looks surprised. “And how exactly have you come to this conclusion, little prince?”

“You leave things out, sure, and you’re not exactly upfront about things, but you don’t outright lie to me.” Roman stares down and swallows again. His throat is dry. “You…you were also right.”

The room is silent.

“You said that one day I would realize that they don’t care about m-me. You said that one day I would realize that the world isn’t black and white. You said that you would help me if I didn’t—if I couldn’t do it anymore.”

He looks up to see the Serpent staring at him, unmoving.

“And you did.”

The Serpent’s hand slowly clenches and unclenches. He looks away, his eyes closing.

“So…yeah, you’re the only one who hasn’t lied.”

“I see.” There’s another pause and then he looks back. “Where are your scars from, little prince?”

Roman frowns at the abrupt change of topic. “What?”

“Your scars, little prince, where are they from?”

“Uh…you do know what I do, right?”

The Serpent stands, slowly crossing the short distance between their chairs. This…this is more familiar. A smirking, elegantly-clad figure leaning over him, to murmur threats and vaguely flirty promises in his ear, distracting and mesmerizing touches to his face, his arms, his chest.

But the Serpent isn’t smirking. The touch is soft, yes, but almost timid as it runs along the scar peeking out from under the shirt by his collarbone. The voice isn’t purring, it’s…it’s…

“I didn’t do this,” the Serpent whispers, running his fingers lightly over the raised skin, “what happened to you?”

Roman swallows all the same. “Accident.”

The hand stills, then flattens to press lightly against his chest. Not a threat, just pressure. “Don’t lie, little prince.”

It’s the gentlest chide Roman’s ever heard and it robs his words quicker than he can recognize. The touch burns. He wants to burn in it. But he has to answer the question but he can’t answer that question.

His silence is enough of an answer.

“So,” he mumbles when enough time has passed to make it clear that’s all the Serpent is going to get, “what now?”

A sigh comes from above him. “What now, indeed.”

Gentle fingers under his chin to lift and turn him.

“Tell me, little prince,” the Serpent asks quietly, “when was the last time someone held you captive?”

The blood drains from Roman’s face. Being held prisoner? No, those…those are the bad ones.

“It’s—it’s been a while,” he manages in a strangled whisper.

The Serpent hums. “What did you expect, little prince, when you crawled on your knees into the snake’s den? Did you expect to be let go so easily?”

He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to die.

It’s going to hurt.

In the midst of his panic, he doesn’t notice the flicker of concern across the Serpent’s face, nor the split second of rage before he’s sighing.

“You really are shaken, aren’t you?”

“Wh-what?”

He blinks and the Serpent is cupping his face in both hands, now, looking down at him the way he did last night. “My apologies, little prince, I thought we were back to playing again.”

“P-playing?”

“Yes, but you’re still terribly afraid, aren’t you?” The Serpent lets out a soft noise and rests their foreheads together. “I’ll stop teasing, little prince.”

“What’s going on?” Roman manages, words coming out in a whine as the hands on his face burn.

“Stay,” the Serpent murmurs, “stay here, little prince. You’ll be safe here, I can look after you. Remus can too.”

“Wh-what?”

The Serpent pulls away a little. “Do you want to go back?”

“Back?”

“To your people. Where you normally go. Do you want to go back to them?”

It isn’t a question of ‘want.’ He has to go back. He has to. He has to.

He…if he doesn’t go back…

…the others will get hurt.

It will be worse the longer he stays away.

But they don’t know that he’s here. They probably think he’s dead.

Can he do that to the others, though? He knows how much it hurt to see Remus dead, what if they—what if they do the same thing with him?

He doesn’t want it to hurt. But he doesn’t want them hurt.

But the Serpent…the Serpent kept him safe. The Serpent was kind to him. He is kind, at least he has been. He’s…

…maybe?

He’s still waiting for an answer.

Slowly, so slowly, Roman shakes his head.

“Then stay,” the Serpent murmurs, “stay here, in this apartment. Stay here with me.”

Roman looks up. What…what is the Serpent offering? A safe haven? A—a safe house? Safety? What…why? Why offer this to Roman? Doesn’t it—wouldn’t it—why?

“…why?”

The Serpent’s expression softens the barest amount. “I told you, little prince, you’re not that difficult to care for.”

“You don’t know that,” Roman blurts out, only for the Serpent to gentle his hand away when he claps it over his mouth.

“Then I’ll learn it,” he says, “but if that’s what you’re worried about, little prince…you needn’t be.”

A harsh laugh bursts out of his throat. “So what, you’re—you’re just going to keep me here?”

“No,” the Serpent says smoothly, “I’m going to unmake you here.”

Roman’s eyes widen.

He’s…he’s going to what?

“This is what they made of you,” the Serpent murmurs, trailing a finger over the scar again, “a touch starved, isolated tool who submits to them out of fear. They lied to you, they hurt you, and they’ve made you believe that death is a viable way of redeeming yourself from mistakes you couldn’t avoid.”

The burning hand cups his cheek again.

“I’m going to unmake that,” he promises in an achingly gentle voice, “until they won’t recognize the little prince they’ve made of you anymore.”

Oh.

Oh.

“…you want to keep me.”

The Serpent’s smile is blinding. “Yes, little prince, I want to keep you.”

He shifts his grip a little on Roman’s face, smile softening when he sees the traces of fear that must still be in his expression.

“But you can decide how much you’d like to be kept later,” he murmurs, “because you still look like you’ve not had enough rest.”

Indeed, Roman’s eyes are beginning to droop again. “Are you sure you didn’t drug the tea?”

The Serpent chuckles warmly as he helps Roman back to bed. “Tell you what, little prince, next time you can watch me make it.”

-----------------------

The snake settles the little prince back into the nest with a gentle hiss and a quick squeeze from its coils. It is best to learn how to be soft now, how to never raise a hand to the little prince when fury licks at the underside of every scale and every inch of it longs to find something to sink its fangs into.

No. Not the little prince. Never the little prince.

So it learns now, how to be soft, how to be gentle, how to channel the fury into kindness for the little prince in order to make the den safe.

Only after the door closes behind him does Janus let the rage run free.

How dare they.

How fucking dare they.

How dare they make Roman so starved for touch he willingly gets into fights to feel something? How dare they strip him of his family, going so far as to fake a death right in front of a child? And how dare they break him to the point where trying to oppose them feels hopeless?

Janus closes his eyes and tries to swallow. But it’s too late. He’s held back the tide for too long and it’s starting to freeze him. It runs into the hot and possessive urge that still warms his hands and his arms begin to tremble.

The little prince is safe for now, where he sleeps beyond the door, but he won’t be if they don’t do something about it.

The snake hisses.

He’d suspected, of course, that the little prince had been hiding something, that the hero life wasn’t all the papers made it out to be, but not this. Never this. And oh, how long must Roman have been warring with himself to plaster a smile on his face, to shrug on a dashing persona to fool the world, himself, everyone into thinking he wasn’t being hurt so badly?

And they had the audacity to call people like Janus supervillains.

How barbaric.

Janus takes a deep, slow breath and lets it out over eight counts.

He can’t afford to lose his cool now.

Only after he’s reached for his phone to summon Remus does he realize he never filled his end of the bargain. He allows himself a brief, bittersweet smile before he’s typing out a message and turning to the teacups.

“Someone is nice to you,” he murmurs as he clears them away, gaze lingering on Roman’s mostly full cup, “and your first thought is that they’re attempting to kill you. What have they done to you, little prince?”

Remus arrives a few minutes later, walking inside and standing at attention. Janus raises an eyebrow.

“Why the sudden interest in formality, my darling?”

“Your security is wired through me,” comes Remus’s answer.

Ah.

“So, you heard?”

“Yes, I fucking heard,” Remus snarls, and now Janus can see why he’s holding himself so stiffly, it’s so he doesn’t scare the little prince either.

“Report.”

“The news stations have been scrambled successfully, we have our team monitoring the waves to make sure nothing pops up. So far it’s been described as a gas leak, one that made the head delirious as he staggered out onto the roof.”

Janus raises an eyebrow. “Adding insult to injury, I suppose, to imply that the head’s death was anything other than planned.”

“Well, that part is true.” Remus glances at the ground. “And the gas has been disposed of. Labs are working on a quarantine schedule, trying to figure out if anyone needs to go into isolation.”

Janus nods. “And the other side?”

Remus’s body armor groans as he tenses. “The outside sweep is done. No agents, no boots on the ground. They did a basic scan and abandoned the trail when it went cold.”

“And when was that?”

“About a block away from the site.”

Janus raises an eyebrow. Impressive. He can see a gleam of appreciation in Remus’s eye too. “Just as well. Can’t have anyone else learning the address of this place, now, can we?”

“Especially not now that you’ve decided you’re keeping him.”

Janus hums. A warning for Remus to watch his tongue.

“That puts a bigger target on your back, Jan,” Remus says, a bit of concern slipping into his voice again—truly, how sweet—as he steps closer, “and it makes this place more vulnerable.”

“That’s what I have you for, isn’t it, dear?”

Remus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Janus watches him over the rim of his cup.

“You’re thinking,” he says after Remus is still for too long, “what about?”

“Why do you want to keep him, Jan,” Remus asks finally, voice weaker than Janus has ever heard it before, including the times the man’s been hovering at death’s doorstep, “why?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

Remus just looks at him and waits.

Janus sighs, bracing his hands against the counter. A beat passes. Then another.

“Fucking hell,” Remus whispers, “you don’t know. You actually don’t know.”

Janus’s head jerks up, ready to put Remus back in his place, only for it to falter as he sees the look of genuine panic on Remus’s face. He frowns.

“Remus?”

“You don’t know,” Remus repeats, stepping back, “you don’t—know—“

The man stumbles to a chair and sits down, his hands flying to tangle in his hair. Janus watches him in alarm. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Remus panic.

“Remus, talk to me.”

“You’re keeping him alive and you don’t know why!”

Remus’s eyes are wide and he somehow manages to look small, even under the kevlar. Janus takes a step closer.

“The longer you keep him alive without knowing why you’re doing it,” he says quietly, “the longer you give them to sink their hooks back into Roman. If you can’t plan for how you’re going to keep him and you’re sure about why? They’ll find the uncertainty and rip him away from you.”

Oh, these broken boys…

Janus steps around to Remus and pulls his head up.

“I swear to you,” he says, low and dangerous, “that I will never let them lay a finger on your brother ever again.”

Remus stares at him. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Something shifts then. There’s another level to the bond between them now, something connecting them that isn’t just business. Something that has the potential to be incredibly dangerous.

Then Remus smiles and oh, there he is, the feral man who tears cities apart with his teeth, and Janus feels his own smile crawl back.

“You said you hated him,” he says lightly, “why the sudden spur of brotherly affection?”

“Something had to keep me alive before you did, Jan.”

“And that was him? How sweet.”

Remus snarls. “Not to them.”

“Well, luckily for you, that won’t be a problem anymore, now, will it?”

He lets Remus go and steps back, carefully pulling on his coat and taking his cane from its holder.

“I’ve got an appointment to fill,” he says, “and you have guard duty.”

Remus stands, nods sharply, and Janus leaves.

The security system clicks into place behind him and Remus slowly turns his attention to the bedroom door.

Something rustles on the other side and he carefully steps through.

Roman turns and is immediately struggling out of the bed to meet him.

“Easy, easy,” Remus barks, catching him and pushing him back onto the bed, “Jan wasn’t kidding about the stitches.”

But Roman isn’t listening to him, no, he’s scrabbling for a hold on Remus like they’re both stupid children who don’t know anything and all they need is each other. Remus swallows the sudden lump in his throat and curses his stupid, stupid brother.

“…calm down, Roro,” he mumbles, leaning down and letting Roman wrap his arms around his neck, “shh, shh…you gotta calm down.”

“I’m sorry, Remus, I’m so sorry, I thought you—I thought it was you, I—“

“Shh, shh, shut up, you’re gonna make yourself freak out.”

“But I’m sorry—“

“I know you’re sorry, Roman, you won’t stop saying it.” Remus lets Roman drag him further onto the bed and sits with his back to the headboard, trying not to let any of the weapons get anywhere near him. “Shh, I’m right here, you got me, okay? I’m right here.”

Roman just buries his head into the crook of Remus’s neck and oh—oh, fuck.

“Hey,” he tries, but shit, his voice is already going shaky, “none of that sappy shit, we’re grown adults.”

But Roman doesn’t care. He’s clinging onto Remus like he’s a teddy bear and godfuckingdamnit.

“Oh, Ro,” Remus murmurs, burying his nose in Roman’s hair. “I missed you too.”

A sob is choked out between them and you could not pry Remus away from Roman right now.

“I’m sorry, Re, I—I wanted to believe you were alive but then they showed me the body and I couldn’t—“

“I know, Ro, I know—I didn’t mean to leave you, I thought I could get us both out, I should’ve listened—“

“But you got out, you got out, you’re safe—“

“But I left you. I let you be taken from me.”

“No, no, Re, you can’t—you can’t think like that, you’re—you did it, you got out, I should’ve listened to you—“

“You were scared, Roro, you’re still scared, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m not mad at you—“

“Don’t you hate me?”

The question pierces right through the kevlar and embeds itself in Remus’s ribs.

Not Roman’s broken voice, so certain that his brother despises him. Not the shuddering remains of the strongest person Remus knows. Not the scared little prince that should be dead.

He remembers the hours of punishment after failing to beat Roman. He remembers the strain of having to look at his brother being praised for everything while he was ignored. He remembers Roman telling him it was just a game when they both bore marks to prove that it wasn’t.

But he also remembers a vicious little brat getting in between him and the world and baring his teeth until they left him alone. He remembers little hands doing their best to patch him up with stolen medical supplies and food rations. He remembers another voice in the dark, whispering that they still cared about each other, that nothing in this world would keep them apart.

“…no, Roro,” Remus whispers, “I don’t hate you.”

Something breaks then, as Roman’s frantic energy dissipates and Remus is left with a shivering, shaking mess of a brother crying into him. He closes his eyes and feels tears build up too as he gently lies Roman back down.

“Relax, Ro, I’m not going anywhere, I just don’t want you to pop those stitches.”

Roman lets him set his head in his lap but wraps his arms tightly around Remus’s leg.

“…yeah, you got me.”

“Good. I win.”

Remus chuckles and ruffles his hair. “Sure you did. I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

“You can try.”

How they slide back into teasing each other he can’t quite explain, just like he can’t put a finger on how it feels to have Roman’s weight on him and recognize it, even though it’s been so long since they were together. He keeps his hand in Roman’s hair, scratching gently the way he did to coax him to sleep so long ago.

“…Re?”

“Mhm?”

“What…” Roman swallows. “What does the Serpent want with me?”

Shit, starting off with a hard one, aren’t you? Wait… “‘The Serpent?’”

“Y-yeah, that’s…the, um…the guy you work for.”

“That’s his—“ Remus sighs— “do you not know his name?”

A pause.

“…sure, I do.”

“Wow, you fucking suck at lying.”

“No, I don’t!”

“You may as well have said his name was fucking John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, that’s how believable that ‘sure I do’ was.”

“Hey!”

“You know what? That’s his name. John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.”

“No, it isn’t, Re.”

“Oh, that’s right, because you know his name.”

“…yeah.”

“How are you still bad at lying?”

“Leave me alone.”

Of course, as soon as those words leave Roman’s mouth, there’s a strangled gasp and the grip on Remus’s leg tightens.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, please don’t leave me.”

“Relax, Roro,” Remus says, ruffling his hair, “I know you didn’t mean it.”

There’s a pause for a moment, then Roman carefully squeezes Remus’s leg. “…what does he want with me?”

Remus sighs. “…he’s not gonna hurt you, Roro.”

“But what does he want?” Roman turns to look up at him. “I can—I can do it, I just need to know what it is.”

I am going to fucking skin them and feed them their own kneecaps while their intestines writhe in agony.

“…he wants you, Roman,” Remus decides carefully, “and right now that means you staying here and healing.”

Roman swallows. “Why?”

“What are you, eight?”

“Remus.”

Remus sighs. “Because it’s really fucking hard to hate you, Roman, even with all your messy shit.”

Roman looks confused and no, that’s not the reaction he’s supposed to have, he’s supposed to grin and tease Remus about how much he missed him, “but…but…then…”

Remus swallows. He’s going to regret asking this. “But then what, Roro?”

“…why did they do that to me?”

You know what? No, they don’t get to die. They can spend their lives in eternal pain while I rub salt onto the exposed nerves until their vocal cords fracture.

“Because they’re fucking awful, Ro,” Remus growls, “they don’t do it because they hate you, they do it because they can.”

Roman blinks. Then he blinks again. And oh, yeah, okay, maybe Remus understands why Janus suddenly wants to keep Roman because the sight of those eyes welling up with tears is too much.

And he will never tell anyone how weak he is for Roman’s little pouty crying face.

“Shh, shh, Roro,” he tries, fumbling to wipe Roman’s tears away, “you’re not there anymore, you’re here with me, I’ve got you, you’re safe.”

“Remus—“

“Shh, shh, shh—come here—“ he hauls Roman up—carefully!—and wraps his arms tightly around him— “you feel that? You with me? I’ve got you, Roman, you’re alright, now.”

Roman lets out a weak sob and Remus curses, fisting the back of the shirt he’s wearing and letting him cry again.

“I’ve got to go back,” he hears faintly, “I need to—the others—“

“What others,” he asks sharply, “what are you talking about, Roman?”

Roman’s silent. Remus curses again and pulls back to see his face.

“They’re still there?”

Roman’s lower lip wobbles. “You were the only one who made it out, Re, the rest of us…they…they…”

Fuck. Janus isn’t going to like this.

“And I’m sure you took the brunt of everything, didn’t you,” he growls, “stupid overprotective, self-sacrificing idiot.”

Roman just stares at him with fat tears rolling down his face and Remus yanks him back into his hold.

“…sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you, you fucking idiot.”

“…you seem mad.”

“Yeah, at the fucking bastards who did this to you.”

“Oh.”

“You’re a real pain in my ass sometimes,” he sighs, “you know that, right?”

“…I love you too, Remus.”

Fucking Christ on a fucking saltine floating in a fuckpuddle with cranberry fucknuts sprinkled on top.

“Go the fuck to sleep, you asshole.”

Roman does eventually fall asleep, his head pillowed on Remus’s thigh with one hand tangled protectively in his hair. Remus just sits there, watching his brother’s chest go up and down, up and down.

He keeps the security system live on his phone, watching Janus’s car approach the building and pinging him as soon as he’s in the elevator.

“Well,” Janus chuckles as he walks in to see Roman asleep on Remus, “you certainly took the assignment seriously.”

“There are more of them.”

Janus pauses as he sets aside his case. “Excuse me?”

“More of them,” Remus repeats, jerking his head toward Roman, “and my idiot of a brother is convinced he can’t leave them there.”

Janus’s expression flickers. “He’s not planning on sneaking out, is he?”

“I don’t think so, but I don’t think he’s gonna be content with sitting here either.”

It’s Janus’s turn to sigh as he stares at the sleeping Roman. “Oh, little prince, what will we do with you?”

“Change the plan.” Remus doesn’t flinch as Janus’s gaze turns to him. “Come on, you know we can’t just do what we planned if you’re keeping him, and there’s three more of him.”

Not many people know how to watch Janus. He’s far too clever for that, far too prepared as soon as he steps foot outside of his lair. But Remus, Remus knows how to watch him and he can see the rising tide of terrible fury that threatens to overtake the room.

But then Janus reaches out and smooths Roman’s hair away from his face and it settles.

Ah. Well, fuck.

He knows what Janus’s order is going to be before he says it.

“Find out what you can. Report back to me.”

“Aye, aye, boss.”

“And Remus?”

Remus pauses, shifting a pillow under Roman’s head to let him sleep as Janus walks up to him. He reaches up to take hold of Remus’s chin.

“You’re mine,” he says in a low, dangerous voice, “do you understand?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Janus is staking a claim on him too.

“…I understand.”

“Good. Now go.”

-----------------------

The lights in the medical bay are bright. Rows and rows of people in scrubs hustle to and from the room, some pushing trays of equipment, some walking with tablets, a select few wheeling gurneys.

One of the figures turns a corner and heads to an elevator. The doors close on their face and when they open again a floor later, the elevator is empty.

A figure sheds the scrubs and stashes them back in the air vent, crawling through the ducts. Sometimes they have to lower themselves to the floor and they run on silent feet, heart in their throat, until they can climb back up into the vents.

They finally drop down into a dark corridor outside a set of rooms.

“He’s still not back.”

“That’s two full days.”

“He’s—he’s not—you don’t think—“

“He’s Roman,” the figure says, “he’s survived worse in our training fields.”

“You know those are more dangerous than half of the assignments we get, Virgil.”

“Of course I know that, I’ve got the scars to prove it.”

“You think he’s still alive, though?”

Virgil sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t know, Patton. I don’t know.”

Patton glances at the other person in the corner. Their fingers tap anxiously on a notebook. “Logan? What do you think? Have you…”

Logan shakes his head. “I haven’t heard anything. His tracker went cold and I don’t know…I can’t be sure.”

“Whether it’s dead cold or cut out cold?”

Patton winces.

“Sorry, Pat.”

Patton waves him off. “I just…it won’t matter. You know it won’t.”

“What, because The Prince isn’t back yet and the city’s gonna mourn him like no other?”

“No…”

The three of them huddle a little closer together.

“…yeah, I know. Me too.”

“We don’t know anything,” Logan reminds them, “we can’t give anything away because there’s nothing to give away.”

“I just want him back.”

“We all do.”

A cold voice suddenly sounds from the intercom.

“Assignment. Level 2, landing bay 19, 20 minutes.”

Virgil sighs. “Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”

The assignment is brief. There’s a rumor of activity at one of the warehouses downtown. Now that the Howlies leader’s turned up dead, a few of the other crime rings have started to make bids for the remaining territory. They’re supposed to go and investigate, clean up whatever’s there, and report back.

“Why are they sending all three of us,” Patton mumbles as they move out, “normally they just send one?”

“They might be being cautious,” Logan whispers back, “since…you know.”

“You two, shush.”

They shush, waiting until they get to the vehicle and climbing inside.

“This is Craft 7, requesting exit.”

“You’re clear to go.”

The ride isn’t long, only about ten minutes. They leave the vehicle a few blocks away and make the rest of the journey on foot.

“It looks empty, save for a few crates on the fourth floor.”

“On my way up. No other cars parked here. You got a heat sig?”

“Nothing yet. Oh, wait—“ Logan squints at the display— “just one. Fifth floor, southwest corner.”

“’S it just me, or does this smell like a trap?”

“I’m not sure what a trap smells like, Virgil.”

“Oh, for the love of—just be on the lookout.”

“That is my job.”

Virgil swings carefully into the warehouse and lands on silent feet. He sticks close to the walls, activating the scanners so Logan can see what he’s seeing. Patton’s on the other side, doing the same, and occasionally he catches sight of him through the goggles.

“Signal’s getting choppy,” he hears Patton murmur, “you’re gonna have to move in.”

“Copy that.”

“Yeah, this is definitely a trap,” Virgil mutters as he tracks Logan’s location to the roof.

“Target still hasn’t moved from the fifth floor.”

“Making my way down.”

“Mirroring.”

The two of them land on the fourth floor and immediately their signals die. They hear a muffled curse from Logan as he descends to get closer to them. The trap is closing in on them, a bubble to keep them isolated.

“I got eyes on the figure.”

“Me too.”

“ID?”

“Nothing yet.”

“You know I can hear you assholes, right?”

That voice…they know that voice.

At least, a much younger version of it.

Patton steps out first. “…Remus?”

Remus waves. “Long time no see, Popping Corn.”

“What the fuck,” Virgil spits, “are you doing?”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Emo.”

“How are you still alive?”

“I’m a cockroach, remember?” Remus grins and yes, that’s—that’s definitely Remus. “Impossible to squish.”

Logan finally appears on the floor and quickly takes his comm out. “They’ll know you’re here.”

“Only if you tell them.”

“They can see things through us, you’ll—“

“Oh, please,” Remus rolls his eyes, “I’ve spent nineteen years dodging those motherfuckers, I know what I’m doing.”

That gives them pause.

“…you’ve been here,” Logan says slowly, “in this city, for nineteen years and they never found you?”

Remus smacks his lips together. “Yup.”

Patton edges a little closer. “…how?”

“I found a good place to hide.”

Virgil glances around. No one else makes any move to get closer but he and Patton pluck out their comms too. “Who helped you?”

“I think you know, Squirmy.”

Virgil’s eyes widen. “You work for the Serpent.”

“Got it in one!”

“Wait, but that means—“

“You’ve been working directly—“

“How have they not found you?”

“You have Roman.”

Logan’s statement rings in the empty warehouse. He takes a step closer.

“You show up after all these years now, after Roman has gone missing, and you reveal that the reason you’ve been able to stay hidden is because of your ties with the Serpent.”

“You always were the smart one.”

“Is he safe?”

Remus shrugs at Patton’s question. “As safe as he can be.”

Patton narrows his eyes. “Is he safer than he would be if he came back?”

Remus’s figure stiffens. Some of the facades slip away and he looks at them with a serious expression.

“Undoubtedly.”

The three of them exchange glances.

“If you’re about to think about asking for him back,” Remus says, “don’t.”

“Will he be safe,” Patton blurts out, “if he stays where he is?”

“…if he stays, yes.” Remus looks at all of them. “But I don’t know if he will.”

“Why not?”

“You know Roman, why do you think?”

Virgil curses. “He’s gonna try and come back for us.”

“He can’t,” Patton says, “they’ll—they’ll—“

“Which is why,” Remus interrupts, “I’m offering you a choice.”

Logan takes a deep breath. “If we help you, you’ll keep him safe?”

“No.”

One lone figure takes a step toward three.

“If you help us, we can keep all of you safe.”

A bubble, in the middle of a city, with four people inside. Time slows. Reality holds its breath.

A silhouette of a figure reaching up and snapping something off of his armor. The slow scrape as it slides across the floor. The weight of an agreement as another figure picks it up.

“It’s good to see you again, Remus,” Logan calls before they leave.

Remus pauses for the briefest of seconds before he nods and vanishes into the shadows.

-----------------------

Janus pauses as he walks through the door, a fond smile tugging at his face as he sees Roman on his side. At some point, hopefully, the little prince will be alright with not pretending to be asleep.

Then the door closes audibly and Roman flips around faster than Janus can blink, the tease freezing on the tip of his tongue. Roman’s eyes are wide, his breathing frantic.

“Where’s—where did Remus go?”

“He’s out, little prince,” Janus says softly, “he left while you were sleeping.”

He frowns when he sees how worried Roman is, clutching at the sheets, and lets out a soft noise, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and take Roman’s face in his hands.

“Look at me, little prince,” he calls, and swipes his thumb across his cheek, “Remus is fine. He checked in a few minutes ago. He’s alright.”

Roman’s eyes search his face and he nods slowly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, little prince, you’ve done nothing wrong.” And it’s so easy to tuck Roman’s hair behind his ears, a fond smile coming to his face as he watches Roman shudder under the gentle attention. “Did you sleep well?”

Roman nods after a moment, but then he keeps nodding and it quickly becomes nudging Janus’s hands lightly and Janus chuckles.

“You poor thing,” he murmurs, “you must be so cold.”

Suddenly Roman jerks and he stills.

“What’s the matter, little prince?”

“Nothing,” but the tips of his ears are turning red and he won’t meet Janus’s eyes.

“Little prince…”

“It’s nothing,” Roman insists, “really.”

Janus just waits. Roman ducks his head and oh, the little prince has such an adorable little blush. He mumbles something Janus can’t hear.

“A little louder?”

“It tickled,” Roman mumbles, “see? Nothing.”

Oh, this sweet little prince…

“Did it, now?”

“Ye—wait, wait,” Roman says quickly, scooting away as Janus reaches for him, “don’t!”

“Don’t what, little prince?”

“Don’t,” he says again, but frantic giggles are starting to bubble out of his throat, how sweet, “don’t, don’t—“

“Don’t what, little prince,” he teases, still reaching for him, “I don’t know what you don’t want me to do if you don’t tell me.”

“Don’t ti—ah!”

Janus lunges forward and catches the little prince in his arms, heart in his throat as Roman gasps in pain. He looks down to see red blooming on the front of the shirt.

“Oh, sweetie…”

“I’m sorry,” Roman gasps, “I—I—“

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” Janus soothes, gentling him back to the bed, “lie still. You’ve popped your stitches, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry—“

He pauses as he pulls away from the bed, going to retrieve the first aid kit, when Roman looks up at him, panicked.

“I’m not angry, little prince,” he murmurs, leaning down to caress Roman’s cheek, “I just need the first aid kit to stitch you back up.”

“I didn’t mean to—“

“I know you didn’t, sweetie, but I need you to lie still. Can you do that for me?” He presses a hand to Roman’s chest to lie him back down on the bed. “Just like that…right there. Good, little prince, now stay put.”

He doesn’t imagine the shudder that goes through the little prince as he lies there, so he quickly fetches the first aid kit and comes back, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves and carefully undoing the shirt.

“It’s only a little bit,” he says as he opens the kit, “this won’t take long. Just be still for me, would you?”

Roman nods.

“Good.”

He carefully pulls the popped ones loose, setting them aside to be dealt with in a moment, and prepares the new ones. True to his word, Roman lies there as still as he can. His breath hitches once when Janus starts and he lets it out slowly.

“Good, little prince.”

He sees Roman’s cheeks flush out of the corner of his eye and hides a smile.

Focus.

He finishes stitching the little prince back up and clears everything to the nightstand, pulling off his gloves and resting his bare hand next to the wound. Roman’s breath hitches again, but this time he can’t seem to let it out. Janus raises his eyebrows and pointedly takes a long, slow breath.

Roman lets it out with him and he smiles fondly.

“Good.” He tilts his head when Roman’s face keeps burning. He raises his hand and runs a finger down each cheek. “What’s all this for?”

Roman tries to glare at him but it comes out like a pout.

“Use your words, little prince,” he says softly, “what’s the matter?”

Roman looks away from him and swallows heavily. “…’s new.”

“What is?” When Roman doesn’t answer, the snake coils. “…being praised, little prince, is that it?”

When the little prince nods, the snake coils tighter around him, holding him safely on the bed. Never again, it hisses, never again will you doubt that you are worth something.

“I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it,” he murmurs, “until you believe it too.”

“B-believe what?”

“That you’re good.” Oh, Roman shudders on the bed and this poor thing… “You are, sweetie."

Roman blinks up at him, cheeks still flushed, but eyes shining. Janus smiles at him and ruffles his hair.

“Why did you look so scared,” he asks softly, “when I came in?”

Roman’s face falls. “When I woke up, no one was here, and I thought…I…”

“…did you think we’d left you, little prince?” When Roman nods, Janus lets out a soft noise and leans down to kiss his forehead. “No, little prince, we won’t leave you. You’re staying here, where I can look after you.”

“…I can stay?”

“Yes, sweetie, you can stay.”

After a moment, Roman’s fingers curl shyly into the folds of Janus’s coat and he smiles.

“Is this your way of asking me to stay, little prince?” Roman nods. “I’ll stay, don’t you worry. Do you think you can sleep?”

“I’ve slept a lot.”

“You’re allowed to sleep, you’ve been through a lot.” The snake nestles the little prince in its coils. “And I can see your eyes closing, sweetie, go on.”

“…will you be here when I wake up?”

“Yes, little prince, I will.”

-----------------------

“I found it.”

“Location confirmed?”

“Names en route.”

A slow cut of a dark smile across a face full of teeth.

“Let’s make it hurt.”

“Aye, aye, boss.”

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne@queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees @meltheromanstan @joyrose-fandomer @insanitori @mavenmush

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[d-c-it]

For context: Roman walked into Deceit's room as he was putting his shirt on. Dee is a lil shit, Roman is gay.

[starlocked01]

For the writing prompts, number 5 with your fave TSS platonic partner duo.

This started as platonic Patton & Roman, idk if it quite counts as platonic partners tho.😅

Prompt: 5. “Does it ever stop hurting?” “No, you just make room for it.”

WC: 530

Cw: Platonic Royality, implied Romantic Logicality and Roceit, one mention of making babies

The End of the Road

Roman squints against the glare of the sunlight, holding up his hand in a vain attempt to block the light. Just another painful insult added to this latest most grievous injury. How dare such a terrible moment seem so bright and happy from the outside?

With a heavy sigh he turns to the other near unbearable ball of light and optimism prattling on in excitement next to him. "Patton, you remember what it was like, right? Does it ever stop hurting?"

Patton pauses mid sentence and smiles apologetically. He reaches out to lay a hand on Roman’s shoulder, a gesture that would be far more comforting if not for the knowing amused chuckles.

"No, Roman. You just have to make room for it. I'm sorry."

Roman huffs and blows a raspberry, "but I don't want to-"

"Lo and Janus will be back soon, with Lo's organizational skills it won't take long at all!"

Roman glances back over to the empty spot in the driveway and whines, "but I practically built that Corvette from spare parts- you know how many kids would have been made in that thing if I were straight? Such a sexy car…."

Patton sighs, "look, I get it. But you two have been planning and dreaming about this for years-"

Roman throws his head back and points at the empty driveway, "but the Corvette-"

"Doesn't have room for a rear-facing car seat." Patton grabs Roman by the sleeve as a dark blue minivan slows down to make the turn into the spot where they're standing. Roman winces and looks away from the vehicle. "Trust me, when you finally get to meet your new little guy, the only thing that will matter is that he makes it home safe every time. You're going to make so many new memories as a family with this car. I know it's not very sexy, but at least it's safe and a pretty color and the agency can't object to your primary mode of transportation."

"Oh, it's not like I'm not excited for the little man to move in. Jan and I have always wanted to adopt and it's finally happening. But that doesn't mean this doesn't still hurt."

"Sure thing, dad-to-be. C'mon, you gotta see what your new dad-mobile can do!" Patton tugs him over as Logan and Janus step out of the new van.

"Is he still crying about that junk sports car?" Janus scoffs, adjusting his sunglasses with a smirk as he sashays over to Roman’s side, "you know this was necessary, sweetheart."

"Indeed, we were lucky to get any trade in value on it at all. Why is the garage- never mind," Logan rolls his eyes as Patton gives him a sheepish grin, "well come on. Patton and I need to pick our kid up in a few hours, we don't have time to keep crying over sold cars."

Roman gives Janus a sour look and the latter grins up at him, "I already preset Radio Disney for you. Just imagining you at the wheel already revs my engine- We're gonna be the coolest dads on the block."

"Hmph. Flatterer."

"Drama queen."

"Gentlemen, please. A little help with your own garage?" Logan calls from the top of the driveway. They exchange a look and laugh before heading over to help organize.

[cotncandyboifics]

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

-

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

-

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that  class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

-

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

-

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

-

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

-

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

A Supernatural World: Chapter 1

NEXT

Summary: Fleeing their hometown of Miami, Florida due to it growing far too dangerous, Roman and his vampire brother Remus move to Detroit, Michigan. Remus hopes it’ll be safer here for his human (or so he thinks he’s human) brother. Roman only wishes to start anew after a traumatizing incident in his last college, hoping to make new friends and maybe even find love. They don’t know what this city or the future holds but it’s going to be quite the adventure as they explore their new surroundings and the…interesting people that live in it.

Pairings: Eventual roceit, Eventual Intrulogical, slowburn roceit, slowburn Intrulogical, romantic roceit, romantic Intrulogical. BROTHERLY CREATIVITWINS (rem/rom shippers fuck off)

WARNINGS: IMPLIED ABUSE, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, MORE TO BE ADDED AS THE STORY GOES ON

(A/N: Finally got back into some kind of writing pattern so enjoy!)

______________________________________________________________

Pitter Patter

Pitter Patter

Remus watches as the sparkling raindrops streaked down the window of the taxi that he and his brother, Roman, were currently in. It’s a rainy evening in Detroit as they near their apartment. It isn’t anything fancy but it has all the utilities they need and a room they could share. It certainly had been a while since Remus had shared a room with his twin. His parents would always separate them, their mother saying Remus was a bad influence on their so-called perfect Roman. Neither of them believed it and always found a way to see each other. Though punishment always followed should they be caught.

  That was then and here they were now. No more horrible parents. No more horrible home. They’re in a new city now and they just want to start fresh. Remus was going to explore and get supplies once he and his brother were settled in. It’s not easy being a vampire who constantly had to be out at night or help his brother sleep. Speaking of sleep, Remus glances over at his twin. He smiles fondly as his older brother snores away on his shoulder. It’s always nice to see his twin peacefully resting. He only wished he didn’t have to use his magic to keep him like this. But it was that, or intense nightmares every single night. 

Remus sighs and adjusts the red scarf that he wrapped around Roman when they left their home. Roman had been through a lot. From the abuse at home to an incident in college that he never got justice for, Roman would have nightmares of it all and Remus would use his magic to calm him down. It’s probably not the safest trick but Roman had begged him to keep using it ever since he found out about it. At least Roman was resting better for now. 

“Ferndale District Apartment Building, sir.” the taxi driver suddenly cuts through, tired eyes gazing at the twins.

Remus nods in reply and turns to his twin, gently shaking him awake.

“Wake up, Ro. We’re here.”

Roman whines and yawns, eyes fluttering open as he sits up.

“Already?” he asks sleepily. 

Remus chuckles softly.

“Yeah. Come on, Ro. You can sleep some more once we get our stuff in.” he says, patting his brother’s head.”

“Kay.”

Roman stretches and sits up, getting out of the car as Remus paid the driver. It’s cold and wet but the rain seems to be letting up into a light sprinkle. He looks around and there isn’t much. Another car passes by and a dog barks in the distance. Roman can make out a small gas station across the street, its dying neon sign flickering like an old lamp. Beside it is a convenient store that’s closed for the night, a laundromat right across it that’s still open. He watches for a moment as a mother and daughter, both sopping wet from the rain, run inside the laundromat. Then Roman turns back, seeing his twin unload the trunk. So, Roman follows and helps with getting their items out. 

They have two boxes, a luggage bag, and a backpack each filled with their belongings as well as food and drinks and emergency supplies. Then there’s three boxes full of other miscellaneous items like toiletries, plates and cups, silverware, pillows, blankets, and other things they grabbed. The apartment may be furnished but it didn’t have everything. It takes over thirty minutes but they managed to bring everything into the building. The taxi leaves and the twins sigh in relief as the warmth of the building melted away the cold feeling in their bones. Remus then heads to the front desk and speaks with the receptionist, a red-haired man with green eyes and freckles, so he could get their apartment key.

Meanwhile, Roman looks around again. It isn’t much but it feels cozy. There was a lounge across from the desk with a moss green carpet and dark brown leather armchairs. A small but sleek black coffee table sits between them, a flower vase holding bright red roses on it. In the corner is a small fish tank, bubbling away as two dwarf gourami swam around each other. On the faded mahogany wall is a painting of a hand. Roman can just barely make out the artist’s signature at the bottom. ‘C.Manfred’ is written in black cursive in paint at the lower left  corner. Roman hums and admires it for a moment.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that the newcomers were here already, Jeremiah.”

Roman jumps at the sudden voice, turning around.

There stood a man in a black a blazer over a dark yellow turtleneck. He also wore matching black gloves and a black bowler hat. What confused Roman is the eye bandage on the man’s left eye and his black face mask. The man walks towards the front desk, standing by Remus. He looks him up and down for a moment before turning to the receptionist, Jeremiah, and greets him.

“Oh, they just arrived, Janus. I just gave them their room key. And here’s your mailbox key.” Jeremiah replies, handing the key to Janus.

Janus nods and takes it, making his way to the mailboxes beside the front desk.

“I must say, you’re both quite intriguing.” he says, glancing at Remus again before turning back to open his mailbox.

Remus blinks. He could’ve sworn he saw a glint of gold in Janus’ eyes.

“I’m just a guy moving in with his brother. I don’t see anything special about that.” he replies, playing it safe.

Janus chuckles quietly and grabs his mail, tucking it away in his blazer.

“No? I think you are. I’ve never met someone like you, especially. I tend to keep to myself, you know?” he hums.

Remus blinks again. Oh. Now he gets it.

Janus sees Remus finally getting it and chuckles again.

“Now, now, no need to fret. Your, ah, secret is safe with me.” he says, holding up his right hand.

That makes Remus relax a little.

“Right. Sorry. I’m just being safe” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, I’m Remus and that’s my brother, Roman.”

Roman waves shyly as Janus glances towards him, flustering awkwardly.

“It’s alright. It’s nice to meet you both.” Janus replies. “My name is Janus.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Janus.” Remus nods before turning to Roman. “Come on, Ro. We gotta haul this upstairs.”

“But we can’t carry this all in one trip!” Roman whines.

“Oh, where’s your apartment?” Janus asks.

Remus checks the key.

“Number 413.”

“Ah. It’s not too far from my place. I’m in 501. Just a floor above and the first door on the right.”

“Ooh, we’re neighbors! Yay!” Roman cheers.

Janus huffs a laugh.

“That we are. So, would you like some help?”

Remus looks over to Roman and Roman nods eagerly. Remus chuckles and shakes his head with a smile.

“Sure. Just be careful. Some of the boxes have fragile things.” he replies.

Janus nods.

“Of course.”

With that, the twins grabbed their personal boxes while Janus handled the remaining three. He was surprisingly strong and didn’t even seem to struggle. Remus is pretty sure that the big box on the bottom was quite heavy. Janus doesn’t have a complaint and they pile into the elevator. As it slowly heads for the fourth floor, Janus finds himself curious about the twins. He knows by now that Remus is...well...not exactly human. He wants to know even more.

“So, what brings you two here? It’s been a while since we’ve had someone move in.” Janus says after a beat of silence.

The twins tense a little and shift.

“Oh dear. Too soon to ask?”

Remus shakes his head.

“No. Just caught us off guard. We settled here since it was the first place we could find after searching for so long. We’ve been on the run across the country. All the way from Miami, Florida actually. We’ve been in and out of hotels along the way here. We looked everywhere online for a good place where the rent price wasn’t a fuckton of dollars. After looking for so long, we found this place and here we are.” he explains.

Janus nods, feeling concerned.

What had these twins been through?

“I see,” he replies. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you on the run?” 

Roman answers this time.

“Home was bad.” he replies quietly, sighing as he gazes at a poster advertising a pirate themed amusement park.

If Remus didn’t have his arms full with boxes, he’d comfort his twin. He can only give him a sad smile.

“Yeah, mom and dad weren’t exactly dearest to us. We got up and left not too long ago while they were away at some big business meeting. I stole their money too. They were greedy fucks anyway.” he sighs.

Janus gives them a sympathetic look. It’s hard to tell with his mask but he’s smiling sadly too.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad you got out though. I get it. My mother and father weren’t exactly loving either.”

“Is that why you wear those on your face?” Roman chimes in, glancing at Janus.

“Roman!” Remus hisses.

Janus smiles softly, finding Roman’s innocence a little endearing.

“It’s alright. I suppose it’s partially why. They never did like my...birthmarks.” he replies.

“Oh. I’m sure they’re not that bad.”

“Trust me, my dear. This is something you don’t want to see.”

Roman flusters. He finds himself feeling a little warm with how charming Janus is.

“O-Okay then.”

They continue talking some more, Roman excitedly telling Janus his plans as they continue trekking to their apartment. Roman wanted to get back into theatre now that he was free to do so. Remus occasionally joined in on the conversation, mentioning that he wanted to explore the city and be familiarized with the area...for reasons. By the time they reach the apartment door, Roman is giggling and seems to have already become friends with Janus. The conversation continues as they enter the apartment. 

It’s spacious enough for two, a small hallway leading into the living room. The walls are a light beige and the hardwood floors are a faded oak that seemed to have been waxed not too long ago. There’s another hall to the left of the living room and another hall to the right. The left hall leads to the bedroom and bathroom. The right hall leads into a small kitchen and dining room. There’s also a small laundry area at the end of that hall. It isn’t much but the twins like it. Any place that isn’t their old home is safe enough for him.  

Remus heads in first and Roman curiously follows with Janus trailing behind him. They gather in the living room, boxes set down to be unpacked in the morning. For now, the twins look around the apartment. Remus spots the heating system by the light switch in the hall and fiddles with it for a moment. Roman sees a big sliding glass door and immediately heads over there, making a sound of delight as he gets the lock undone with a click before sliding the door open. He steps out and is greeted with a good view of Detroit despite only being four floors up. He can see a train station, an abandoned dockyard with an old rusted freighter still floating in it, and part of the Ambassador bridge despite how dark the city is.

“So pretty! I’ve always wanted my own balcony!” Roman says, beaming as raindrops sprinkled all over his cheeks.

Remus chuckles.

“You can hang out there tomorrow, Ro. Come back inside. It’s cold out.” he calls. “And shut the door.”

“Kay!”

Roman lingers for a moment longer then does as his twin says, coming in and shutting the door before locking it too.

“I like our new home.” he says, joining Remus and Janus.

Remus pats Roman’s head.

“Good, because we’re stuck here for a long time.” he says. 

Janus smiles softly, seeing how the twins really care for each other. 

“I’m glad you like it here. I hope you’ll sleep through the night. There’s a certain apartment down the hall upstairs that tends to be loud often.” he tells them, setting down the boxes he’d been carrying.

“I’ve slept through worse.” Remus shrugs though there’s a dark look in his eyes.

Remus still remembers hearing his mother scream, her shrill but sharp and haunting voice overpowering Roman’s cries. And if it wasn’t her, it was their father. Their father would beat Roman, drunk or not. Remus couldn’t do anything about it, having been locked away in the basement for most of his time in that old house. Didn’t mean he escaped those beatings. His father made sure he had his ‘fair share’ of punishment.

Janus smiles sadly. Just how badly had these twins been hurting?

“I see. Still, I figured I’d let you know ahead of time.” he says, deciding not to push it. “If you don’t need anything more, I have to go now. It’s late after all.”

Roman looks up from the boxes. He was about to open one when Janus said he had to go.

“Already? But I liked having you here, Janus.” he says, pouting a little. 

Janus huffs a laugh.

“Don’t worry, Roman. We’ll meet again soon. I don’t leave my apartment so I’m almost always home. Feel free to come over anytime soon, my dear.” he smiles softly.

Roman flusters again. Something about Janus makes Roman feel a little warm. 

“O-Okay then. Bye bye, Janus. It was nice to meet you.” he says, smiling bashfully.

“Goodbye, Roman.” 

Roman waves and watches as Janus leaves, happy to have already made a new friend. 

Meanwhile Remus was a little wary. So much has happened due to Roman trusting almost every person he’s met. The college incident was one of them. After that, Roman had a hard time trusting new people. So it’s a little surprising to see Roman easily get along with Janus and trust him. Especially with sharing a bit of his trauma. Shaking his head, Remus smiles fondly. At least Roman is happy for the time being.

“So, you already found a friend in Janus?” Remus asks.

Roman blushes a little, still smiling bashfully.

“Yeah. I think he’s nice. And I know I probably shouldn’t trust people so soon but I think Janus is someone we can trust.” he says. “I know it.”

Remus chuckles.

“If you say so, Ro. Now come on, we still have to unpack some stuff so we can get ready for bed.” he says, ruffling Roman’s hair again.

“Okay!”

So with that, the twins unpack what they can, filling the kitchen cabinets with what bit of food they could bring from their old home along with the kitchen cutlery. They had grabbed as many things needed when they first left their old home and kept it with them as they moved around. Their toiletries were from the many hotels they stayed at. For food, they either ate at the hotel’s buffet or had small meals from the stores around the place. 

Remus had stolen most of their greedy parents’ money for themselves to use but did his best to save it. Now that they have a new place to call home, Remus decides he’ll go grocery shopping in a few days. In the meantime, Remus was content to live off of the food they picked up on their way here. It wouldn’t be the first time they had instant noodles and a small bag of potato chips. 

Soon the twins unpacked what they could, the two bringing their luggage bags into the bedroom. They got undressed and into some warm pajamas. Roman’s pajamas are a plain white t-shirt and a pair of red sweats. Remus’ pajamas are a pair of grey sweats and a Thriller t-shirt. Now that they were in comfy clothes, Remus leads Roman to the bed.

“Alright, bed time, Ro.” Remus says, setting up Roman’s night light before joining him.

Roman gets in bed, holding a small crown plushie that Remus made for him to stim with. He’s quiet as he thinks about their safety. Yes, they were away from that awful place now but anything could happen. Especially with Remus being a vampire. Remus is an easy target for hunters and much more feral vampires. Roman has seen those vampires, one of them having even tried to drink his blood. Remus saved him though. Still, what if-

“Earth to Roman. You in there, Ro?” Remus taps his forehead.

Roman blinks and shakes his head clear, settling in bed.

“Sorry, Ree. I’m just a little worried. What if we’re found here or another feral vampire hurts me? What if it’s not safe here too?” he asks, fiddling with his crown plushie. 

Remus smiles softly, tucking Roman in.

“We won’t be found here. I made sure of it. Besides, if anything happens, I’ll be there to protect you. You know I’ll beat their asses.” he says.

Roman giggles.

“You always do, Ree.”

“Hell yeah. Now, get some rest. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Roman nods, yawning.

“Okay. I’ve been wanting to get into theatre now that we’ve settled. You think the local college will accept me?” he asks.

Remus pats Roman’s head.

“They will. You’re super talented, Ro. You’re gonna do great.” he says.

Roman smiles at that before shifting.

“Okay...um...can you do that thing to help me sleep?” he asks.

That thing is basically Remus using his magic to help Roman sleep better and to manipulate his dreams so that the nightmare stays away.

“Of course.” Remus smiles softly, his eyes glowing a soft red. “Sleep.”

Remus waves his fingers and a red, sparkling aura of magic swirls from him and into Roman’s head, making him feel hazy and tired. Soon his eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out. After a few moments, Roman is deep asleep. Remus sighs in relief and stands up, looking back at his brother for a moment before moving to turn off the lights. Then he slips out of the bedroom to continue unpacking and cleaning up. Hopefully tomorrow will be good for both of them now that they’re here. 

[callemreine]

Snake from hell

Au August

Day/Prompt: Day 10 - Fake Dating

Ship: Platonic or romantic prinxiety, implied past roceit/anxceit

Word count: 882

Cw: swearing / unsympathetic Janus(?) / brief weapon mention

A/N: This was so last minute so I apologize if it's all over the place. Also, have a little piece of one of my ocs that I have touched in a year

@tsshipmonth2020

“Fine. But, only because I would do the same if I was in your situation,” Roman breathes out in defeat. Virgil thanks Roman multiple times before hanging up. He was left with no other choice. His mom forced him to go to the wedding in place of her, Janus is gonna be there, and his sister has a girlfriend. Which wasn’t supposed to be part of the problem in the first place. But, according to their mom:

“You both know that I wouldn’t go to the wedding with a date. So, no dates. I want it to be just like I am there.”

Stupid mom(don’t worry he wouldn’t actually call his mom stupid). He wasn’t actually breaking his mom’s order. He just needed someone to avoid Janus with him. And, Roman was perfect for the part, considering their mutual hate on the guy. He could just be like his plus-one. Yeah…

~*~*~

“Okayokayokayokay. We’re just going as friends-”

“You’ve said that five times already since we left your apartment. Which was like four minutes ago…” Roman interrupted. 

“Just calm down. I got this. Plus, I’m a better actor than you are,” he continued with a grin. “It’s you I’m worried about. Is it really good for you to go to this wedding? I mean, it’s clear you don’t want to,”

Virgil frowned, “It’s what my mom wants. And, knowing her, pictures and videos are mandatory. And, this is the only thing she’s asked from us in months,” He buried his face in his hands in defeat.

~*~*~

“Avery?! The fuck are you doing here?!” Virgil whisper-yelled as he grabbed his sister by the wrist the moment he saw her at a place she wasn’t supposed to be, wondering how she slipped by him the entire duration of the wedding. “Relax, Virge. Mom never said I couldn’t go to the wedding. Plus, I can’t just let you have all the fun,” she smirked, knowing full well what she had done.

“Alright, fine. Fine. Just try not to get in our way. This is one thing I ask of you, Ave,” Virgil practically begged his sister no matter how much of a shithead they are to each other most of the time.

“Our?-” her eyes panned over to Roman who was just silently standing by the siblings, scanning the crowd of guests as if he was looking for someone. “Oh, you are so dead! But, nice catch though. You could’ve just told mom you had a boyfriend. Then, you wouldn’t be here in the first place,” she says as she goes over to Roman, assessing him while the latter confusedly looks at her then to Virgil. “Uhh. Virge?”

Virgil sighs, knowing that this is her revenge for that time Virgil did the same to her girlfriend, “This is Roman. He’s just a friend and he’s accompanying me to this wedding as a friend. Roman, this is Avery, my sister,” They exchanged pleasantries before Virgil pushed Avery back to her table.

“I see the resemblance,” Roman laughed as they headed to their table.

“Shut up,”

~*~*~

“Fancy running into you here,” the pair froze as they heard the familiar venom of the voice they came to know so well in the past. They looked at each other as Roman mouthed 'play it cool' before turning to face the owner of the voice.

"Janus," Virgil greeted with a blank expression. "I mean, I knew Virgil was gonna be here. It's Roman I'm surprised about…" he replied with a smug expression, eyeing Roman.

"No, wait. Hold on. Let me guess. You were forced to come here. And, knowing I was gonna be here, you needed someone to avoid me with. So, you invited Roman because you both have a mutual hate for me. Did I miss any details, Virge?" 

The pair stared at the man in disbelief. What else were they supposed to say? Virgil could just barely make out Avery staring at them a few meters behind Janus, ready to make all hell break loose if anyone wasn't too careful.

Virgil was a little startled when he felt someone grab his hand. He looked up at Roman with a confused expression. "Don't worry, Virge. I think the snake needs to know," the taller man softly smiled at him.

"Actually, Janus. I'm Virgil's boyfriend-"

Oh.

"-so if you'll excuse us, we have better stuff to do" Roman admitted as he pulled on Virgil's hand as they attempted to pass by Janus. Only to be blocked by the man, "Now, look. I know something wrong when I see one. But, I'm glad you two are together. I'm just so glad to be the reason why." He then moves out of their way to let them pass but a smirk remains on his lips.

"Oh, and Virge?" He continued before the pair could go far. "Please, let Avery know that the daggers she's throwing might hit someone else, instead of her target," They all glance over to Avery who was still glaring at Janus, her girlfriend holding her arm to stop her from making a scene. 

Roman and Virgil look back at Janus, only to see an empty space where the man was supposed to be.

"I swear that man is the literal snake from hell," Avery growled, startling the two.

Again, I'm sorry this is so messy

[emy-loves-you]

Accessories and Crushes

This is Day 1 of the TSUS Challenge: Dukexiety!

Summary: Remus buys some jewelry to make himself look good and impress his crush, Virgil. But why does he look so upset by that?

Pairings: Dukexiety, background Roceit

Word Count: 3769

Warnings: Bullying, stealing, miscommunication, implied violence, blood

"C'mon boys! You need to leave now or you'll be late!"

"Coming Mom!" Both boys called out, Roman from the bathroom and Remus from his bedroom. The green-clad twin had finished putting on his makeup and was now frowning at his reflection. Something was missing. There was some part of his style that was incomplete. It had been missing for a while now, and because of it Remus looked incomplete. Bland. Boring. And he couldn't tell what was missing. He'd tried switching out his makeup palette (Roman had so many leftover, since he liked to do his own makeup in theater. He wouldn't miss this one), he tried different outfit styles, he even tried things that he never imagined wearing like skirts and high heels, but nothing felt right. Maybe I need new accessories?

There was a knock on his door and Roman poked his head in, a lopsided grin on his face. "C'mon, we gotta go before mom kills us."

Remus scoffed, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Psh, I've been ready. I was waiting for you, prettyboy. How many hours did you spend in the bathroom this time?"

Roman made a sound that their mutual friend (and Roman's crush) Janus dubbed an 'offended Princey noise' as they walked out of their house. "First of all, low blow. You can't just use that nickname-"

Remus snorted. "Of course I can. Just not in front of Janny.” Janus had made up the nickname years ago, and Remus constantly teased Roman with it. (Honestly, Remus was halfway tempted to lock the two of them in a closet and leave them there until they either made out or beat each other up)

Roman continued as they approached the school. “Secondly, I’ll have you know that every moment I spend in that bathroom is absolutely vital to my daily routine.”

Remus smirked. “Yeah? Even the 20 minutes you spend just belting out romantic Disney songs to your reflection?”

Roman blushed but didn’t back down. “Yes.”

“Hmm, a blushing Roman. The perfect way to start my morning.” Janus suddenly slinked up behind them, throwing his arm up over Roman’s shoulder.

Roman groaned, blushing harder. “I can never tell when you’re being sarcastic and when you’re being genuine.”

Janus chuckled softly. “If you knew, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun to do.”

The bell rang and Remus groaned. “Gotta go. Catch ya later.” He quickly made his way to his first class, silently glad to be rid of the two hopeless lovebirds. He got to his class with 5 minutes to spare and was going to play on his phone and ignore everyone like he usually did when he saw a flash of green out of the corner of his eye.

On one of the student’s desk was an ornate wooden box, filled to the brim with hand-crafted jewelry. The student in question, Jacob Smith, was currently counting a large stack of cash as he waited for the bell to ring. Remus got up to look at the jewelry and he smirked. “Hey, Prince. I’m selling my sister’s hand-made jewelry. Like anything you see?”

Remus glanced down at the jewelry. There were dozens of accessories in a ton of different colors, but there were a few that caught Remus’ eye. There was a matching set of 2 bracelets, a ring, a chain necklace, a choker, and a pair of earrings. They were all a metallic dark green with black and dark purple accents. Remus looked at the prices Jacob had given the jewelry and winced. They were all super expensive, but they were also high quality and hand-crafted, so Remus wasn’t going to complain.

Jacob smirked as Remus paid for the jewelry, about to say something when the bell ringed. Remus sighed and put the jewelry away, grabbing his notebook to take notes. Even though Remus was the school’s resident ‘bad boy,’ he still liked to keep his grades up. Remus hated that he was always stereotyped as lazy and dumb. Yes, he regularly punched homophobes and transphobes. Yes, he tended to struggle in English because metaphors were bullshit. But that wasn’t his fault! There were only a handful of people that Remus wouldn’t immediately punch their teeth in for calling him dumb, and only three of them went to this school. Of course, there was Roman and Janus, but there was another person who was allowed to insult Remus, even if he never did.

Eventually, lunchtime rolled around, and Remus ignored his usual routine of vandalizing homophobic lockers to instead go put on his jewelry in the bathroom. He spent the whole 15 minutes making sure that the jewelry looked perfect and his make up was flawless. He had someone to impress, after all.

A few more hours passed and Remus was finally in his last class of the day, impatiently waiting to see his crush walk through the door. Virgil Storm, resident emo and snarky introvert. He and Remus were forced to work on an English paper together last year, and now he liked to sit next to Remus during class. Remus knew this was only so they could work together on creative writing assignments, but a part of Remus dreamed that Virgil sat next to Remus because liked Remus, not just tolerated him.

When Virgil finally walked through the door, seconds before the bell was supposed to ring, Remus barely resisted the urge to grin and wave frantically like an overexcited puppy. Instead, he gave his meat flirtatious smirk, angling his body to show off as much of his new jewelry as possible. Instead of smiling (or blushing like Remus fantasized), Virgil froze in place. He gave Remus a look that made his heart sink. He looked… betrayed? That didn’t make sense. But before Remus could get up and ask what was wrong, the bell rang and Virgil took a seat in the front of the classroom, away from Remus.

Now, most people would be able to see that Virgil was upset before he even walked into the room. They would realize that Virgil isn’t having a good day, and would give him some space until he was ready to talk to them.

Remus is not most people.

He spent the entire class staring at Virgil, several pencils snapping as he pretended to take notes. Virgil slouched forward, ignoring Remus’s gaze burning holes in his hoodie. When the class ended, Virgil practically ran out the door. Remus growled and stuffed his things into his bag, shooting a quick text to Roman.

Re- (2:21 PM) Staying after, go on without me

He turned off his phone, not waiting for a response as he stalked out the door. He knew that Virgil didn’t take the bus, and Remus had a feeling that the emo hadn’t left the school yet. He probably didn’t go to his locker, and he hated all of the teachers, which left-

Remus slammed the bathroom door open, Virgil jumping from the sudden sound. He was hovering over the sink, his face red and puffy from crying. His shock quickly morphed into anger as he glared at Remus. “What do you want? Here to rub it all in my face?”

Remus growled, ready to rip his own hair out. Or Virgil’s. He hadn’t decided yet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Virgil barked out a laugh, and Remus ignored how beautiful Virgil looked, even when angry. “Wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?! I thought you were my friend!”

A part of Remus’ heart broke at his crush calling him just a ‘friend,’ but the rest of his heart shattered as he processed what the emo said. “Of fucking course I’m your friend!”

Virgil glared at Remus, pointing at him accusingly. “Then why the hell are you wearing those?!”

Remus looked down at his jewelry, which he had bought and put on just to impress Virgil. They had to be what he was talking about, since it was the only significant change to Remus’s normal outfit. He actually liked this jewelry a whole lot. And now his asshole crush was getting pissy about it. “What’s wrong with me wearing jewelry, huh? You got a fucking problem with it?”

Virgil growled, slamming his fist onto the countertop. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it, dumbass! I’m not stupid, I know where you got those!”

Remus huffed. “You got something against Jacob? I know the guy’s an asshole, but are you seriously gonna hate me for buying his little sister’s jewelry?”

Virgil froze, his hands gripping the bathroom counter like a death grip. “Little sister? So you didn’t know?”

Remus was confused, but he was still more irritated than anything. “Didn’t know what? What the fuck are you talking about?!”

Virgil stayed quiet for a moment before he started screaming. “THAT SON OF A BITCH!” He slammed his fists back on the counter, fresh tears rolling down his face.

Remus rushed forward, pinning Virgil’s wrists down so he couldn’t hurt himself. No matter how pissed he was, Remus couldn’t see his crush get hurt. “What the fuck is going on, Virgil?”

Virgil froze again, looking away. “It’s none of your business. Just leave me alone.”

Remus growled, adding pressure to Virgil’s wrists, ignoring the way he winced. “Not this time, emo. You can’t just accuse me and say we aren’t friends, then tell me to fuck off when I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” He stepped closer, not giving him any room to squirm away. “So we’re not going anywhere until you’ve told me what’s going on.” Virgil looked away, and Remus growled. “You said that we’re friends, right? Then fucking treat me like one.”

There were a few moments of silence between them before Virgil sighed looking away, mumbling. “My name’s on ‘em.”

Remus’s grip loosened, confused. “Huh?”

Virgil groaned, pulling himself out of Remus’ hold and grabbing him by the wrist, removing his bracelet with practiced ease. He showed Remus the inside of the bracelet, where V.S. was stitched into the fabric. “Jacob’s little sister’s name is Sally. That’s my name. I sewed and etched it into every product.”

Remus stared for a minute until it hit him. “Did you make these?”

Virgil blushed and nodded. “Yeah, I sell them online. They take forever to make but it’s fun and I make a good amount of money off of it.” He huffed. “I shouldn’t of brought them to school. Yesterday Jacob had found me and was be-” he coughed “was talking to me, and he found them in my backpack. Said he would sell them for me, and in exchange I wouldn’t leave with a broken nose. All of the popular kids knew that I made them, because they bought a ton and flashed it off in front of me in the hallways.” He sniffled and wiped his tears away with his hoodie sleeve. “I… I thought you knew too. I thought you were like them.”

Remus stared for a few minutes before getting out his wallet. “How much do you normally charge for these?”

Virgil sputtered. “W-what? You don’t-”

Remus growled. “I know I don’t have to. Now. How. Much. Do. You. Charge?”

Virgil rambled off the price and Remus frowned. That wasn’t even half of what Jacob had charged for them. Still, he paid the price that Virgil listed before opening a backpack and grabbing a notebook and pen. “Do you know everything that he took? And how much you usually charge for them?” Virgil nodded softly, still a little mystified. “Can you write them down? Or if you have a picture it would be helpful.”

Virgil carefully wrote them all down, giving descriptions of each piece of jewelry and their worth. Remus nearly growled when he read the list. Virgil was missing almost $200 worth of jewelry, and based on Jacob’s prices, the asshole was going to make at least a $500 profit from all of this.

Remus took back his notebook and put it away, giving his crush one last look. “I promise I didn’t know about any of this, but now I’m going to fix it. Here,” he grabbed Virgil’s wrist and scribbled something on the back of his hand “here’s my number. If those assholes try something like this again, give me a call and I’ll go punch their teeth in.”

Virgil looked away. “You don’t have to…”

Remus chuckled. “Punch their teeth in? It’s kind of my signature move by this point. It would be a shame if I didn’t.”

The emo blushed, finding his shoelaces to be more interesting than looking Remus in the eye. “You don’t have to be so nice to me.”

Remus shook his head. “You earned my niceness, fair and square. You’re my friend, Emo. Do you know how many people get to call me that and mean it?” He snorted. “Do you know how many people get to call me a dumbass without immediately getting their bones broken? It’s a very short list.” He sauntered out of the bathroom, stopping as he reached the door. “You mean a lot to me V. And I’m gonna make these assholes pay.” He didn’t look to see Virgil’s reaction as he walked away, one goal in mind: make Jacob Smith’s life a living hell.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Virgil went to class the next day, still in a slight state of shock. He felt numb all over, like he’d been drenched in ice water and was still dealing with the aftershocks. A lot had happened in the past 2 days, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down for a nap and not wake up until it all blew over.

Yesterday was awful. Usually Jacob just beat him up and went along his merry way, but instead he decided to ruin one of the few things that made Virgil happy. Jewelry making had been his passion for years, and seeing dozens of bullies showing him their new jewelry with a vindictive smirk, and knowing they were his but he wasn’t making a single penny, hurt him more than any punch or kick ever could.

But what hurt was seeing his only friend (and crush) sitting in the back of the room, showing off the jewelry that Virgil had specifically made with him in mind. Remus had been smirking, just like the bullies had as they flaunted off their jewelry, and Virgil had felt his heart break into a million pieces.

But that was yesterday. Today was a new day, and Virgil was wanting to crawl into a whole and never come out. Everyone would still be buying and showing off Virgil’s jewelry, some knowing where it came from, others having no idea. Jacob would probably come to beat Virgil up when he ran out of jewelry to sell, demanding more products that Virgil refused to make. He wasn’t going to spend all of his time on these products just to put money in Jacob’s pockets. And to top it all off, his friendship with Remus was probably ruined. Judging by how he acted yesterday, Remus would probably get upset if Virgil tried to distance himself again. But he was dreading the day where Remus would realize that Virgil wasn’t worth a decent English grade and tell him to fuck off.

Virgil was late to school today, so he didn’t actually realize that something was amiss until around lunch. No one had come up to Virgil to show off their jewelry, and a lot of students were staring at the emo as he walked by. When he took a closer look, he realized that the kids who had shown off their jewelry to him yesterday weren’t wearing them anymore, and some of them were sporting some nasty bruises. The ones who were wearing them were constantly staring at Virgil and… smiling? That was weird. But as Virgil sat down to eat his food another, more important question arose.

Where’s Jacob? And Remus?

His questions were answered in English class, where he overheard two students chatting as Virgil stepped in. Apparently Jacob and Remus had gotten into a fight and were now suspended. Virgil sat back in his normal spot, ignoring how the room went quiet as the ice water feeling returned with a vengeance. Remus got into a fight? Over him? That didn’t make any sense. Just the fact that Remus apologized and paid Virgil his debt for the jewelry was more than Virgil deserved. But the fact that Remus got into a fight with Jacob, because Jacob stole from Virgil, made something in his chest stutter. It made his heart race and his breath stop for a minute. Keep it cool Virgil, it’s not like someone as cool as Remus would ACTUALLY like you. His fight probably had nothing to do with me.

“Um, Virgil?” Virgil looked up at the random student next to him. Bethany, his brain half-heartedly supplied, still in a half state of shock. She was fiddling with the bracelets on her wrist, and it took Virgil a moment to realize they were his bracelets. “I-uh… I wanted to say sorry for what happened. Jacob told us he had brought those bracelets from home. We had no idea they were yours.” She pulled out her wallet. “Can I repay you for it? Or maybe buy more to make up for it?”

Virgil shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. You already had to pay a stupidly high amount to Jacob, you shouldn’t have to waste more on me. I’ll be behind for a while on money, but I’ll get back up there eventually.” He blushed. “But if you want to buy more…” He scribbled down a url on his notebook paper and handed it to Bethany. “I have a website where you can customize your jewelry. It’ll take around a month or two depending on what it is, but I’ll have it done and shipped to your address as soon as it’s done.”

She took the paper and smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much! See you later Virgil!” She went back to her gaggle of friends, showing them the website url as they took pictures and typed it into their phones. Virgil smiled softly, glad to have at least a few potential customers after this.

When class was over, Virgil quickly grabbed his stuff from his locker and walked out the door. He was making his usual journey across the football field and towards the neighborhood when a familiar figure waved in the distance. Remus was underneath one of the bleachers, a familiar box in one hand and his backpack on the ground. Virgil ran over and hissed. “What are you doing here? You’re suspended right now! If they catch you on school grounds you’ll be expelled!”

Remus chuckled. “As if that would stop me from visiting my favorite emo.” Virgil flushed and looked at the wooden box. Remus suddenly perked up as he held out the box. “I got you your stuff back!” He sounded like an overexcited puppy and Virgil bit back a giggle, instead taking the box. He frowned when his hand came back wet.

“Uh, Remus?” He looked at his hand and cringed.

Remus tilted his head to the side, still resembling a puppy as he excitedly spoke. “Yeah?”

Virgil showed Remus the box. “This box is wet.”

“Yeah?”

“...With blood.”

“Yeah?”

“...Is it your blood?”

“I don’t think so!”

Virgil nodded, wiping his hand on his black skinny jeans. “Okay… thank you. It-” he looked away, blushing. “It means a lot to me.” He opened the box, looking at the contents. Around a third of the original jewelry was in the box, most of it he vaguely remembered the bullies wearing yesterday.

Remus smiled brightly, bouncing slightly as he grabbed his backpack. “That’s not even the best part! Look what I found while beating that asshole up!” Virgil hesitated before opening the bag, the not-so-nice part of him imagining Jacob himself shoved into the bag. Instead, the bag was filled to the brim with cash. Virgil stared at the money in shock while Remus explained. “That’s everything that he earned for selling your jewelry. He charged for a lot more than you did, but now you’ve made all of your money back and then some!”

Virgil tried to count the money at a glance, but his head started to spin after a minute. “Remus. How much money is in here?”

He giggled. “Almost $600. Jacob got a lot of money selling your stuff. He also had an extra 50 bucks that I added to the pot as compensation.”

Virgil nearly dropped the backpack in shock. He’d never had that much money before. This is it. I can actually start a business with this money. I can throw it into my bank account and actually have a chance at making jewelry after high school. At least as a side-job. He looked up at his crush, who was still bouncing slightly as he waited for praise. He did this for me. Remus gave me this chance. He did this because he cares. No one’s ever cared about me this much before.

Virgil didn’t realize what he was going to say until it was already out of his mouth. “Do you like coffee? With me?” He realized how jumbled his words were and he blushed. “I mean, would you like to go get some coffee with me? I know a good caffe a few blocks away. I know we aren’t too close, but maybe we could get to know each other better?”

Remus froze for a few seconds before he chuckled. “I don’t actually like coffee.” Virgil almost felt his heart drop, but his crush smirked at him. “But I know I’ll enjoy anything with you.” Virgil squeaked with a blush, and Remus chuckled. “Let’s go! We’ll get you some coffee, and we can talk about the inspiration behind your jewelry. Especially these.” He held out his wrist, showing off the dark green bracelet, a small purple heart sewn on the inside. Virgil blushed again. They both knew what inspired it. They both knew that Remus had inspired it. Or rather, Virgil’s feelings towards Remus. And Remus seemed okay with it, judging by his flirtatious chuckle and teasing grin.

Virgil eventually grabbed the resident bad boy’s hand, dragging him out from under the bleachers and towards the nearest cafe. He never thought he’d have a chance, but Remus gave it to him. And there was no way in hell that Virgil wasn’t going to take it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst @whatishappeningrightnow @idont-freaking-know @cute-and-angsty-princess @artsy-enby09 @girl-who-reads @drarrymalecsolangelo @count-woe-laf

[iceshard1011]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders Characters: Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Additional Tags: pre janus' photoshoot, he had no right looking that gorgeous okay, yeah literally got inspired by the fact that janus and roman wore the same lipstick, could be romantic or platonic, Insecurity, Self Confidence Issues, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, who is only mentioned once, Making Up, (kind of), Hopeful Ending, Guilt, Makeover, In which i call myself a multishipper and then continuously go nuts over roceit, Ro goes from confused himbo to romance expert way too fast, and that's bias for you, Listen just because janus is self preservation doesn't mean he's got good self esteem, Janus ‘self care’ sanders: what is makeup, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Relationship Summary:

Janus needs to get ready for his turn for that stupid photoshoot idea Thomas offered him. He’s not exactly looking for help, but he gets it anyway.

And… maybe something more.

2k word fic under the cut :)

The mindscape hadn’t seen much of it’s self-proclaimed prince lately. It was painfully noticeable, given the halls weren’t being deafened by singing, and no one was as challengeable or as willing to bicker as much anymore. Patton’s smile was just this side of strained at breakfast. Logan would look up, eyes sparkling and eyebrow half-raised, the beginnings of something on his tongue before he would remember there was no one to say it to. Virgil kept sneaking sideways glances towards the staircase, as if no one could see him.

Not that Janus was bothered, of course. He had always preferred peace and quiet over chaos. He had just… become slightly acclimated to it during his years with Remus.

Except… it did make things exceptionally difficult when Janus needed something.

Even more so when he didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted.

Janus tried not to curl his lip too much as he stared at his reflection. Stupid sides and stupid Thomas and his followers and his own stupid thoughts. This looked wrong and felt wrong and Janus was a few seconds away from burning this damn —

An opening door. It creaked slightly, not enough that it was Virgil’s, but certainly not Logan’s. It was opened hesitantly, not something that Patton would have much reason for. Perfect.

Janus stuck to the shadows as he slunk down the hallway. It was unnecessary, as had been prefaced many times by the others — even Virgil had caught him at one point, in the middle of slithering silently into the kitchen for something to drink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Virgil had said. “You’re allowed to get something to eat.” (Janus had not pointed out that his throat had been parched and itching for water from a dying scream after flashing images had raped his sleeping mind.) “Plus, you look ridiculous skulking behind furniture like that, anyway.” Janus had flicked his tongue at him and left to get his water.

Roman hesitated at the top of the stairs before slowly making his way down. Janus didn’t know what he was looking for, but it didn’t seem to deter him. Once he was out of sight, Janus shot into his room, the door still creaking open.

What did he need? What was he going to need to put on? What were the requirements of this stupid activity?

He didn’t even know what he wanted. What would help? What would cover up enough that he fit the unspoken, stupid critera for these damn photos? What did foundation do? Would it dry his skin out? He was not in the mood to deal with brittle scales.

Lipstick. Roman had used lipstick in his photoshoot.

Janus shot forward and grabbed the first one of the display rack.

“Stealing now, are you?”

Janus whirled around, thankfully crushing the rather embarrassing squeak before it could escape.

“Oh,  absolutely,”  he purred, but the not-lie was immediately evident the moment Roman’s angry eyes trailed down to the lipstick clenched in his fist.

“You sly little —” The prince marched forward, face twisted dangerously, and despite himself, Janus found himself stepping backwards.

Roman wasn’t violent. He was brash, and impulsive, and when he pulled his sword on whatever startled him, but he had never, not once, used physical aggression to prove a point.

Janus found it hard to believe he would start now, but… Roman had never been driven to such a point before now.

And Janus was the reason.

It was when he had stalked close enough that their height differences were clear enough that under normal circumstances, Janus would be rather annoyed (now, however, he was only focusing on keeping his breath calm and his gaze level), that Roman seemed to notice the way Janus was dressed.

“What are you wearing?” he uttered, suddenly sounding far more confused than mad.

“Something that was certainly all my idea,” Janus hissed, waiting for the disbelieving eyebrow raise, for the look that said You? Really? Waiting, as tense as he had ever been, for more laughing.

Roman did nothing except manage to look even more lost. “Oh.”

Janus wasn’t sure if he felt irritated or guilty at the prince’s crestfallen look.

Irritated, apparently, as his thoughts began to hiss.

Oh, terribly sorry that I’ve been accepted like the rest of you. My apologies that I aim to help Thomas just like everyone else in this damn place. I am  so sorry  that for whatever godforsaken reason they asked me to put on these ridiculous —

“Well, hurry up and finish the look,” Roman said, as if resigning himself to a fate that no one asked him to.

Janus blinked at him.

Roman summoned a hand-held mirror and held it out towards him.

Janus didn’t quite say ‘what the hell’ — but it was close.

Roman seemed smart enough to read the baffled look on his face. “You can apply it here so I can be assured you will hand it back when you are done. I can’t trust someone like you to return it otherwise.”

“I’m sure you can replace a single stick,” Janus said, just slightly scathingly.

Roman didn’t seem discouraged. He expectantly held the mirror out further.

Janus’ stomach was writhing uncomfortably. He kept his face carefully blank, loath to betray how distasteful he found this, and glared at the mirror. He ignored the bemused look Roman gave him when he struggled with uncapping the lid, and fought against the slight tremors in his hand.

He didn’t get very far before Roman, looking absolutely scandalized, reared back like a startled horse. Janus paused when his mirror was yanked away and glared up at the prince.

“I would appreciate a limited amount of interruptions,” he began but Roman had already dumped the mirror and darted forward to snatch the lipstick from his hand. “Hey!”

“Why did you try applying it like that?” he cried. Janus shuffled, bewildered.

“I know exactly what you’re —”

“No, no,” Roman interrupted, waving his hands. “No. Stop. Come here.”

Janus bared his teeth. “Why?”

“You look like you’ve never applied makeup a day in your life,” Roman said, and suddenly Janus didn’t have any quips to reply with. Roman squinted. “You’ve never used makeup?”

“Because I have always had a reason to,” Janus snapped. Roman raised his hands, which surprised him.

“Right.” The prince beckoned again, but Janus remained rooted. What on earth was the moron trying to achieve?

Roman seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and leaned forward, quietly scrutinizing. Janus bit back on a snarl.

“When’s the shoot?” Roman asked.

“What?” Janus said, slightly more harsh than he intended.

“The photoshoot,” Roman clarified.

“Whenever I want,” Janus snapped.

Roman, rather than retorting, or recoiling, lit up. “Perfect!”

Janus slunk backwards. “What are you playing at, White Knight?”

A flash of confusion danced in Roman’s eyes for a split second before he lost himself in his excitement once more.

“Your makeup, Phantom of the Opera!” he shrilled, bouncing over to his vanity and pulling out the chair. “I’ll do it for the photoshoot! Come, sit, sit!” Janus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t move. Roman faltered. “Or… or not. I don’t —”

“Why?” Janus interjected.

“You can’t get dressed up without a little makeup,” Roman said with a smile.

“The others did,” Janus pointed out, but Roman waved him off.

“It’s imperative to feel good when you should be looking good!” He began to dig around in his draws, pulling out a variety of brushes and different coloured palettes. Janus didn’t know what any of them were for.

“What are you implying?” he asked slowly.

Roman paused long enough to level him with a skeptical look. “You, who came in here for makeup and got caught red handed… are trying to ask what I am getting at?”

Janus glared at him.

Roman gestured to the chair once more. “Sit.”

Sulking, Janus sat.

Roman studied him carefully for a moment before beginning to sort through his ridiculously large assortments of strange… makeup… things.

The prince started slowly, using an odd, coloured sponge, but Janus still flinched when the first cold sensation started to plaster his face.

Roman pulled back as well. “Sorry. Here, this is primer. It’s kind of like moisturiser.”

Janus’s tongue flicked in and out for a moment in consideration. Coming to a decision, he forced himself to sit still and allow Roman to start again. He must have realised Janus was still not entirely comfortable with this setting, so he began to offer what each tool was and what it did as he applied it to Janus’ face.

Primer, foundation, ‘concealer,’ whatever the hell  that was…

It was quiet for a few minutes while Janus let Roman work before he finally had to speak.

“You’re… not doing my other side.”

Roman didn’t pause, moving to pick a different brush and palette. “Your scales?” he asked, focusing on where he was working. Janus found the lack of eye contact oddly comforting.

“Why aren’t you covering them up?” Janus asked.

Roman did halt, then, and lowered the brush. He frowned slightly. “Why would I want to?”

The earnest in his voice made Janus falter. The prince’s genuine confusion made his chest feel impossibly wide and too warm. Roman had already resumed his work, completely clueless to what he’d done.

You fucking himbo, Janus thought.

“Close your eyes for me,” Roman instructed. Janus frowned at him. Roman didn’t seem to understand that kind of action required an amount of trust that Janus certainly did not have for him yet. He elaborated with a beseeching, “Please?”

Janus’ eyes closed.

He could tell Roman was pleased when he got back to work. “Keep your eyes relaxed, but don’t open them, unless you want a bunch of brush bristles where they should not be.”

“Pleasant,” Janus remarked.

“Very,” Roman agreed sagely. Janus bit down the smirk.

It was quiet again, apart from Roman beginning to hum the beginnings of a song. Janus didn’t recognise it, and he wasn’t even sure Roman knew he was doing it. But it wasn’t unpleasant, so Janus let it be. The lack of silence was comforting against any awkwardness that could have remained.

Eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara.

Eventually, Roman leaned back, and beamed. “There.” He held up another — how many did he have? — handheld mirror. “Look!”

Janus looked.

Roman’s smile softened as he glanced between Janus’ face and his reflection. “You like it.” It wasn’t a question.

“How do you know?” Janus asked.

“I didn’t push any blush on your cheeks.”

Janus didn’t point out that Roman had moved his hand to Janus’ knee and it was burning through the skirt, but sure. Janus could agree that he didn’t  hate  the look Roman had given him.

Roman’s eyes scanned over Janus’ face once more, and this time Janus matched his gaze unwaveringly. A smile twitched at Roman’s lips, and the prince jumped.

“Oh! Almost forgot the whole reason this happened!” He twisted around and turned back, jabbing the lipstick at Janus’ face. It was jolting, and Janus jerked backwards against his own will. “Sorry, sorry.” Roman held a hand. “Come here, come back. I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Janus remained still as Roman lined his lips with the paint. The fingers pressed to the edge of his jawline rendered him rather useless against his instincts, anyway.

Roman’s eyebrows twitched downward for a second. He must have made a mistake, because he moved to carefully swipe a finger at the edge of Janus’ lips.

Goddamn it, this was such a mistake.

Janus swallowed.

Finally, after way too long how slow do you apply lipstick, Roman pulled back, seeming satisfied.

“Now you're ready for a photoshoot,” he decided.

Janus glanced back to his reflection. He still had some of his own details to add, but… yes. Janus could almost agree.

Roman went back to sorting through his various makeup supplies. Janus felt a little transfixed with the deft movements of the prince, how certain he moved, how he knew where everything needed to be. A confidence Janus had failed to see in… a very, very long time.

A sharp laugh, vicious and hurtful, the lie doing nothing to soften the blow —

Janus stood abruptly, the chair wobbling against the carpet. Roman glanced up. He seemed to remember where they had been before Janus’ makeover, and for a moment his eyes darkened. Janus braced himself for another argument.

Then Roman’s shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head. “Have fun,” he said. Then, after a moment, added, “You’ll kill it.”

Janus halted at the doorway before he could flee, taken off guard. He glanced down at the prince, who gifted him a small smile.

Janus didn’t smile back. He turned to study the doorway framework. “It would certainly be rather… dismal if you came down for dinner at some point tonight. Presumably, at the same time as everyone else.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, truly?” he said. His voice was warm.

Janus sighed theatrically. “Oh, I don’t know. I couldn't argue if you were to try to prove me wrong.”

Roman tossed his head. “Watch it, Noodles. You don’t want to defy a knight.”

“Perhaps not,” Janus mused, regarding a chip in the doorway’s wood. “But a hero never backs down from a challenge.”

He didn’t wait to see Roman’s expression. He wisped away down the hallway without looking back, without seeing what he could have just done.

Like a coward.

He may have just made things worse. He could have reversed everything that odd makeup session had built. He was well aware of the fact that if that was the case he should have kept his mouth shut.

But oddly, Roman’s silence hadn’t seemed heavy. He hadn’t tensed. He hadn’t shouted, or scowled, or slammed the door in Janus’ face.

Granted, Janus hadn’t given him a chance to, but…

As he slid into his room and quietly closed the door behind him, he didn’t feel horrible. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Now. He set his gaze on his closet, still open and waiting. Where was his hat?