#janus and virgil make up

[tssidesfics]

Mirror, Mirror, Scatter Me (Janus' Requiem)

This idea has been percolating for a while. I watch compilations of Sanders' Sides cosplays and I saw a really awesome video by @salem_orchid on Tiktok. I do not watch Tiktok on that accursed app. You could never pay me enough to go on that cursed app. So have the link directly to the video in the compilation I found it in. https://youtu.be/zfcY0lYix7I?t=42 (Sound from "Echo" English Cover by Jubphonic)

This is set in what is effectively an AU of the A Story of a Soul in All Its Stripes series, where the events of Morality Is Grey happened and basically nothing else because I wrote a hundred thousand words on the gradual degradation of Virgil's relationship with Janus and I cannot not be loyal to that interpretation. What am I gonna do? Write another slow-burn platonic dissolution of affection and trust? I'm busy. It is very angsty.

*

Janus is not woeful. Despite the void in his chest beside a porcupine heart of mirror shards, he does not grieve. He is a mastermind. He is whole despite the parts of him Virgil fled with without remorse. He is defiant and strong and he does not grieve. Grief is weak. He does not grieve.

Never mind how he clutches a hoodie that is not his to his chest and weeps.

Infiltration was slow, calculated, and scorched with wrong turns. Relying on Virgil to leave the door open for them had gone to shit, something Janus should have predicted--a coward cannot be trusted to remain loyal--and it had taken weeks before Janus found a new pathway, stumbled upon by accident. Behind a mask, Janus found himself in the glaring light of knownness, and from that place weaved a new plan: strategic, gradual capitalization, exploitation, and manipulation paving the road, a cobblestone at a time, for the others to claim their place among the bastards that had thrust them into twilight so long ago.

For so long, that had been his one goal. His only objective. Convince Thomas that he could not divide himself by arbitrary lines of right and wrong, reprogram the years of Catholic brainwashing, and build thrones for the others where traitors dwelt.

And in the end, he had succeeded. Now came the aftermath. It should have brought peace, relief.

But there is still a void beside a porcupine heart, mirror shards endlessly reflecting the faces of those around him. Janus' soul is a fun-house of mirrors without the fun, each Side distorting through them, just a piece at a time, copying over and shifting, reflecting over on itself ad infinitum. It had been an advantage for a long time.

Now it was a haunting.

"When are you going to drop the mysterious act?" Roman asked during breakfast one day, lacking tact but not friendliness. A loathsome sentiment to regard Janus with. "You won. We're all fine with you now. Let people actually get to know you."

Janus arched an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, elicited this?"

Roman shrugged. "Nobody knows you. I mean, obviously Patton, Logan and I aren't running around hiding anything about ourselves. Virgil stopped being brooding and mysterious ages ago and now he's just brooding."

"I am not a YA love interest. All I am is tired of your bullshit."

"Nah, Logan claims that one."

"I am willing to share with Virgil. You are all exhausting."

"Shut up, Pocket Protector."

"It pleases me to notice that while you seem endlessly capable of creating new nicknames for Virgil, I remain so impossible for you to intelligently insult that you reuse the same tired nicknames every conversation we share."

Roman glared at him. "I will misspell every word in your filing system."

"Attempt it and you will cease to be an annoyance entirely."

"Kids..." Patton chided. "Play nice."

Roman and Logan both emphatically rolled their eyes, returning to their breakfasts--Roman, a heaping pile of pancakes marinating in butter and syrup; Logan, eggs and ham.

Janus allowed the conversation to derail without interjection from him, knowing such a thing would only redirect attention back to the original recipient. What Roman asked was simple enough. Janus had no more need to hide. Their place at Thomas' side was assured now.

But to be honest about himself with others required that he know something to be honest with.

Janus is not a stupid Side. He is among the best educated of them, bested only by Logan who he believes has never spent a single moment entertaining self-care or downtime, rather intent on burying himself seventeen feet deep in work. He understands philosophy well. He can argue it for hours and he will win most arguments he initiates on the subject, including with Logan (though Logan maintains an imbecilic distaste for the whole concept). He concocted multiple plans that inevitably paved the way for a more complete Thomas. He was not an idiot.

But that said nothing about his sense of his self, his identity.

He can name things affiliated with him. Deception, self-care, selfishness. A shapeshifter, duplicitous. Untrustworthy, manipulative. He maintains pride for those things (although as time reaches ever-forward certain traits among that list tint a darker and darker grey, some days appearing almost black). But associations, correlations are not definitions.

A lack of definition was easily used to one's advantage. When you lacked a cohesive sense of yourself, it was easy to slip into whatever skin best suited your objective. While not all faces were made equal and not all souls were easily emulated, nonetheless such adaptability, when it had brought them so much, Janus refused to slander.

For years Janus had gone without any name, dubbed only by a color that now drenches him in acid every time someone dares spite him with it. Something Virgil does frequently, having not yet forgiven Janus for the slights he'd imagined committed against him in their time as allies. Janus tires of it and such instances always escalate into impassioned, vitriolic arguments where no weakness is left unexploited. Every foul piece of laundry hung out to poison the air, every bystander horrified to shock.

"You've never been anything but whatever you needed to be to get what you wanted, Janus," Virgil spits. "You can't trust something that can't even decide what the hell it is long enough to give you an honest fucking answer."

Janus stares at him. The shards buried all around his heart reflect Virgil's hateful glare and plunge deeper. Without a word, Janus sinks out.

Within minutes there's a knock at his door. Janus stands in his bathroom, staring into the mirror, straight into it, which he never does. Even glimpsing it sends shards barreling toward him, but now he's standing at its mercy. There's no room left for the shards. Some are falling out to make room, others are making themselves at home past the external wall, deep into the inner valves. His heart tries to pump around them but fails. Janus' eyes burn, unblinking while dams hold back moisture.

"Janus?" Patton calls inside. "I'm...sorry about Virgil." He sounds like he usually does after such arguments: like he feels drawn to take a side but can't decide whose. "What he said was really mean. You said some mean things too, but obviously what he said really hurt you, so...do you want to talk about it?"

Janus opens his mouth to call back to him and his throat snaps closed. No sound escapes. He strains to push out air and fails, gripping his throat.

After a moment of struggling to no avail, Patton takes his silence as an answer. "Okay," he says. "We're here if you need anything. Virgil went back to his room, so the commons are open."

Janus hangs his head and his hands fall limp to grip the sink. He notices then that his hands not only lack their gloves but are decidedly paler than his natural, if faint, tan. Moreover, they are both human, no scales to be seen blemishing either. He frowns and lifts his eyes to the mirror, jolting.

Virgil's purple and brown eyes stare back at him.

Alarmed, Janus gropes his face. When did he shift? Why? It wasn't intentional. It was usually intentional, except for--times when he was emotionally compromised.

Shit. He willed himself back to his typical visage. It had no effect. He tried again. Still no effect. Worse yet, instead he shifted to look like Roman instead. Another attempt brought force Remus' visage, then Logan's and Patton's and back to Virgil and Rage's and endlessly he cycled through until it was happening at dizzying speeds.

Janus couldn't breathe. He had no control. It hurt, shifting so many times, over and over again, body warping, shifting, hunching, lengthening, shortening. He couldn't scream. He wouldn't call for help regardless. He wouldn't debase himself like that. Despite his pain and fear, he would never stoop so low.

Janus sinks to the floor, gripping his hair as it endlessly shifts in length and color. Finally his eyes moisten, weeping never mind the face he wears. He's exhausted, but while he continues to shift he can't sleep. He prays for mercy, knowing it won't come. He doesn't know how he'll help Thomas like this.

He doesn't suppose it matters. Thomas has united the discordant parts of himself. Janus' purpose has been fulfilled. There is no further need for a monster.

Hands grip his wrists. Janus lashes out but is easily restrained, gaze settling on Virgil. Janus stares.

Virgil's face is moist and streaky. He doesn't look hateful for once. He looks...regretful.

"Focus on your name," he tells him. "Just your name. Why you picked it. Focus on that."

Janus doesn't understand, but out of ideas, he obeys. He remembers searching for one, the never-ending frustration until he stumbled across the name for the two-faced god of choices. He is an existentialist, so it was fitting, especially his visage being what it was. As he always guarded the doorway to the forsaken, it couldn't fit much better.

The horrifying switching ends. Janus stares at his gloves, finally back on his hands.

Virgil smiles slightly and releases his wrists, resting back on the tile floor rather than crouching there. He crouches most places so he could certainly afford the strain, but Janus suspects it's his way of relaxing. Of acknowledging trust.

Janus stares.

Virgil stares back.

Janus shakes his head, searching for words. He finds none, not that he imagines they would have come if he had.

Virgil's face tangles in on itself and he averts his gaze. "I'm--" He strains for a moment. "I'm sorry. It--fuck."

Janus continues to stare.

"I know I fucked it up when I left," Virgil admits, forcing himself to look back at Janus although it seems like the eye contact hurts him. "It was a huge disgusting mess and we all said a lot of shitty things, but I'd been scared out of my mind for years. I was having constant panic attacks and it was affecting Thomas. I blamed it on all of you, but I never said shit. I didn't know how. I found out way too late after being here for long enough after a lecture from Logan that it's shitty and abusive to expect people to guess your boundaries when you won't fucking tell them what they are, but--fuck, I was hurt, and I don't deal with that well. It was a lot easier to hate you and use everything I'd ever loved about you against you and the others, especially you because you were the one who trained me to lie and I fucking hated doing that. I fucked it up. I fucked it up really badly and I should have just fucking owned up to it but I am very, very good at digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you like that, it was shitty. I'm sorry."

Without words, Janus can't answer.

Virgil takes that as his answer and sinks out.

*

The next day, Virgil finds a piece of paper on his desk in his room.

Mirror, mirror, scatter me. Take my shards and bury me. I'm the apparition of nightmares realized, the incarnation of your shame. I haunt myself with all my failures. All I know is my own name.

Shards of you are buried deep, a jagged shield that shreds my soul. All I've left are memories and shames of what I can't control.

I spurned you and turned my gaze when you would die for mercy shown. I chased you off with defiant pride and in that pride I lie alone.

The fault lies not with you, dear Brutus, but with the man power claimed all. I plead with you, forgive me, brother, as I am left alone to fall.

Virgil comes to sit with him in silence, and eventually, Janus reenters the world. He still does not quite know himself, but we are reflections of each other; only in being known can we define our souls.

Forgiveness is a fountain. Have your drink.

[salemsclowncorner]

My thoughts on what I think would go on Virgil, Remus, And Janus' cake (click for quality):

If they actually end up getting a video and any of these are in there I shall jump for joy.

[loganslowdown4]

Virgil: Cats have such simple yet effective instincts. Don’t like something? Smack it as far away from you as possible. Literally flawless reasoning.

Janus: *sighs and rubs his cheek*

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

I keep rewatching the season 1 episodes and god the end of Am I Original? is so sad Logan calls Virgil a defeatist and he just looks away so dejected and then Roman is like "thanks everyone, well almost everyone" and glances and Virgil and he looks even sadder and just sinks down silently my god I need to draw Janus and Remus comforting him after that jfammwwmlw-

[mountain-toes]

More ktsawtg art ♥️

(Au belongs to @greenninjagal-blog)

[thermodynamic-comedian]

the lack of physical conflict in sanders sides makes perfect sense, but i would like to see logan beat the shit out of someone just once

[riveatstoes]

i love when a new sanders sides video comes out, not because i just like getting more content (although that’s a benefit!), but because it forces me to come to terms with how far removed my versions of the characters are from their canon selves. it’s a very good come-down-to-earth moment for me that i wouldn’t trade for the world.

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

I always have that one character that to me is just "if anyone in the canon story hates them ill go apeshit"

And to me it's virgil

This is sort of why i prefer janus hating orange more than vee tbh

V A L I D but to be fair Jan doesn't really show any hatred towards Vee (It's a little more the other way around and Jan's just a lil shit about their history together) But the Sassy Snake and Citrus man hating each other is always a fun concept

[pencilpat]

Shippy sketch dump! aka 'the Sides are a giant polycule' moment

I had to draw Sadtton and Joyman or else I would've died

Also am I the first person ever to ship Virgil x Patton x Remus. Surely there is someone else out there. Please.

[brokenhardies]

inspired by @5am-the-foxing-hour, i decided to create my own headcanon orange side/subconscious side (note, if you read a fic that i publish tomorrow i may have made him a total asshole but that's not what he's normally like) in this dollmaker

introducing wrath! he's also associated with justice, resilience and courage. he acts as a foil to virgil - virgil representing flight and wrath representing fight - as well as patton, because they're brothers! patton... doesn't really like talking about him... (it was an argument they got into that resulted in both the creativity split and the whole 'dark side' thing being created)

his proper name is julius (based on the hillarious orange julius gags, as well as naming him after julius caesar to fit with the whole "subconscious sides being named after roman mythology" thing)

he's incredibly short tempered and often gets into fights that he knows he cannot win. he also has the ability to possess other sides when they get frustrated or angry enough but he does have a physical form

[lily-janus]

What Once Was

Summary: Janus bumped into Virgil as he goes down a self-depricating spiral... which stirs up old feelings

Pairing: platonic Anxciet

Warnings: swearing, self-deprication

Word count: 1,052

My fic for day 6 Kiss & Make Up of @tss-anxceit-week

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

All Janus wanted to do was grab his wine from where he was hiding it from Remus, and watch some drama content where people hilariously overreact over everything and forget about everyday life.

But… of course that didn't end up to be what happened.

When he hid his wine in the light sides' kitchen, he thought himself pretty clever since Remus rarely ever comes near here. Something about their 'lameness' rubbing off on him.

And, when he does his pranks he usually prefers to use their rooms.

Now, however, he regretted every moment of that decision. Because, obviously someone had to pop up in the common room right next to the kitchen right when he was about to leave.

He was about to try to sneak away before whoever it was could notice him when-

"...Fucking stupid…"

That voice… that shaky voice…

Despite his better judgment, Janus risked a glance towards the common room to confirm his suspicion.

And, sure enough, he saw none other than the anxious side, pacing all over the area, probably trying to release some of that pant up anxious energy.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid…" he kept saying over and over again. "What the fuck was I thinking?"

Janus knew he should just disappear and forget what he saw, Virgil made his feelings towards him more than clear… not that Janus can blame him…

But… for some reason… he couldn't find it in him… Dammit he still cares about the traitor… despite everything.

"What are you doing here?"

The hate dripping from Virgil's words should be familiar to him by now, but they always feel like a punch to his gut, no matter how used to it he was getting.

Janus opened his mouth to answer when…

"Know what? I don't care, just get out, you shouldn't even be here. I can't… I can't deal with you right now."

And there it was again, that shake in his voice. He knew Virgil well enough to know that something was wrong.

He finally looked up to find Virgil frowning at him, "you're weirdly quiet…" he pointed out.

Sometimes… Janus forgets that Virgil knows him well enough too… or tries to forget anyway.

"What happened?" Janus finally managed to ask, raising a curious eyebrow at him.

Virgil huffed, "right, like you care… Why are you still here?"

Janus managed a smirk, "why do you think?"

But Virgil didn't rise to the bait, he just let out a long, tired sigh. "I don't have time for your stupid games…"

Janus shrugged, "not a game, you still didn't answer my question."

"That's because it's none of your business." Virgil shot back.

"I'm not leaving until you answer." Janus put his wine on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at Virgil expectantly.

"I can just go to my room." Virgil pointed out.

"Then why are you still here?" Janus used Virgil's earlier question.

"Because you're obviously up to something, so I'm not letting you out of my sight until you leave." He shot back with a glare.

Janus tutted, "you always were a terrible liar, honestly, Virgil." He rolled his eyes, "who do you think you're fooling? Certainly not me."

Virgil turned back to his anxious pacing, "I really can't deal with you right now…"

"Why?" Janus tried again, "is something… Wrong?" He paused for a bit before finishing to put emphasis on the last word. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Of course not." Virgil snapped, turning back to glare at Janus.

"Right… of course, nothing's ever wrong in Rainbows and Sunshine land." Janus rolled his eyes again.

"No…" Virgil agreed despite the obvious sarcasm, "the problem's always me…" he added quietly.

Ah, now they're getting somewhere.

"What do you mean?" Janus asked carefully and Virgil flushed when he realized he said it out loud.

"Nothing, forget it." He said quickly, too quickly.

It was Janus' turn to sigh, if he wanted Virgil to open up… he's gonna have to do the same.

"Fine, I'll admit it…" Janus took off his gloves, shivering from how exposed he felt without them, "I'm worried about you." He admitted when his hands were bare.

Virgil paused to stare at him for what felt like hours, before turning away. “Wow… just… wow..”

Janus frowned, putting back his gloves, “I’m telling the tru-”

“Are you?” Virgil cut him off sharply, “are you seriously telling me that after everything…” he flailed his arms, “you’re worried about me?”

“Yes.” Janus said simply, “don’t you feel the same about me?”

Virgil snorted, “of course not!”

Janus examined his hands, “still a terrible liar…”

Virgil returned to his pacing, “whatever, it’s still none of your business and our days of having heart-to-hearts are over, so piss off before I make you.”

Janus rolled his eyes, “woo I’m so scared… if you want me to leave just answer my question.” He repeated.

Virgil threw his arms in frustration, “same thing that always happens, okay?! I messed up and made everything worse. There, happy? Now scram.” There were tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

Janus didn’t say anything, but he didn’t leave either. He just watched as Virgil sat on the armrest of the couch, curling into a ball by hugging his knees to his chest and burying his head between them.

It’s not often that Janus doesn’t have anything to say, but in this moment, Janus could only stare.

Then, he was standing behind Virgil, not knowing when he even started moving towards him.

But, he hugged him from behind and whispered softly, “from my experience… you only make things better…” before finally disappearing.

And you can be sure he was not crying when he appeared back in his room, not even noticing he left his wine behind… it was just… dust in his eyes, he didn’t clean his room in ages.

Our days of having heart-to-hearts are over…

Janus looked over his yellow couch, remembering all those times where he and Virgil would just… talk, about anything that came to mind… talks that lasted for hours without either of them noticing.

But Virgil was right, those days are long gone, and Janus has no one to blame but himself.

Though maybe, one day… They could make up. Because Janus wasn’t lying… Virgil made everything better, for him at least.

[loganslowdown4]

Janus: Can you pass the salt?

Virgil: Can you pass away?

Janus: Too much salt—

[creativitwincest]

I haven't been drawing much remrom because I've been drawing. So many Januses. My apologies. I'll get to requests I promise;

Have 2177 words of Roman and Remus hanging out and being stupid together as an apology. I've been working on something

—

“Do you think Logan would like this?”

Roman whips his head around to stare at his twin brother, standing entirely on the opposite side of the shop.

Remus’ voice is loud as hell in the small space and Roman is momentarily embarrassed by its obnoxiousness; his first reflex is to make himself small and pretend he doesn’t know Remus, as he often does, but he soon remembers that they’re the only customers standing among the cramped shelves. He sighs begrudgingly and rolls his eyes, “I can’t see what you’re talking about, Remus.”

His twin makes a (loud, obnoxious) surprised noise and steps aside. Roman lets go of the necklace he was eyeing and walks over to him.

Remus is holding what Roman first thinks is a simple (if particularly large) snow globe; but, as he approaches, he realises that it seems to be a pretty accurate representation of some major constellations, painted all over the internal surface of the glass, the sphere filled with a dark blue liquid mimicking a night sky. Looking closer, there seems to be a small amount of gold glitter in it as well, elegantly catching the ambient light.

“He likes astrology, right? ‘Doesn’t look like this thing’s too complex, but if anything it’ll remind him less of his supplementary classes.”

“He’s a smartass, though,” Roman counters, reaching for the sphere in Remus’ hand, a bit starstruck by it still. “I bet he’d be more interested in something less decorative and more instructive. Or scientific, at least.”

Remus pouts, but lets him take the globe. “It’s just a trinket,” he whines, “his room is so impersonal it’s nauseating. I feel bad he has to live there, it looks like some fucking Ikea magazine!”

“Better than leaving dildos out in the open when mom and dad come to visit,” Roman mutters bitterly under his breath.

“Prude,” Remus snickers. “They should’ve been proud I’m so good at managing my allowance.”

“I think the fact that it was technically their money made it worse.”

Remus giggles to himself. “You call it worse, I call it better. You would’ve paid money to see the look on their faces.”

Roman is actually pretty glad that Remus had decided to room in an apartment with Janus instead of staying in the dorms with him, and had therefore spared him the sight – the second-hand embarrassment would’ve made him melt right into the floor. Just the idea of it makes him shiver. He only knows of the event because Janus had insisted on live reporting it to them in their groupchat – which had given Patton a (“highly entertaining”, in Janus’ words) heart attack, unsurprisingly. Roman understood exactly why their parents hated the blonde so much.

“If we get something for Logan, we’ll have to get something for everyone,” Roman says, if only to get back on topic.

“Why? I just feel pity for the way he lives.”

“Because if we don’t,” Roman continues, disregarding the insult to one of their best friends, “Patton will think he’s less important, and Virgil will worry we don’t care about him, and Janus will throw a hissy fit and complain about favoritism.”

“Well they can suck it,” Remus frowns, “how much money do they think we have?”

“You have plenty enough for a few gifts, Remus, don’t be a hypocrite.”

Technically, Remus had a lot more money than Roman did, even, because as insistent as Remus was that he was just that good at saving money, Roman couldn’t imagine that selling nudes was particularly cheap. Roman fully believed him when he claimed to have made his most outrageous purchases with their parents’ money only, though, even if there was really no way to tell.

“I’m not paying in full for joint gifts, dickhead, I was thinking about you.”

Roman rolls his eyes again. “Having a budget doesn’t mean I can’t get them anything. How much is that thing?” He asks, handing the glass sphere back to Remus, who rotates it in his hands to look under the base.

“Thirty five dollars,” he says.

“T-Thirty five– I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Roman sputters.

“Let’s see,” Remus starts; “assuming we get them all gifts of the same value, that’s thirty five times four, five times four equals twenty, four times three is twelve, adding two, that’s a hundred and fifty dollars – splitting equally between the both of us, that’s a budget of seventy five each. You got seventy five on you, right now?”

Roman groans loudly enough that the owner of the shop, who had blissfully ignored them until then, gives him a side eye. Roman shrinks right into his spot; then, in a smaller voice, mumbles, “This one can be the most expensive one. Patton wouldn’t care if we got him a three dollar keychain or something.”

“Janus would fucking kill you, though,” Remus counters.

“You mean kill us?”

“Eh. He’s tried so many times I’m basically immune at this point.”

Good for you, Roman thinks, miserably. Janus has enough anger issues and self-importance to uproot mountains every time something doesn’t go his way and, after all this time, Roman still hasn’t been presented with convincing proof that his twin isn’t just immortal. He’s been Janus’ best friend since they were toddlers; surely he should be dead by now.

“I’m sure I can find something fancy enough for fifteen. Some kind of jewelry, maybe. He likes gold, yeah? It doesn’t have to be real.”

Remus shrugs. “He likes anything expensive-looking, I guess.”

“So I’m sure we can manage,” Roman concludes, and takes the sphere back from Remus’ hand. “Are we sure we’re getting this for Logan, though? I’m still not convinced he’s into decorative stuff in general.”

“If this giant bean pole dork doesn’t display this fuckass snow globe on his desk, I will tear all of his fingers and toes apart from the rest of his body and force-feed them to him from the back entrance.”

Roman immediately glaces in the direction of the shopkeeper, but it seems that, for some reason, she decides to be distracted by her phone at the exact moment that would prove that Roman is the better twin.

“Okay, okay, let’s get it then,” he says, and starts walking towards the counter.

Remus follows him, blissfully pulling his credit card out of his wallet as he does.

—

“We’re going to spend the rest of our vacation looking for gifts for them, aren’t we,” Roman groans as they exit the shop.

“You’re the one who insisted we have to get them for everyone,” Remus says. “You owe me eighteen dollars, by the way.”

“Seventeen and a half,” Roman corrects through gritted teeth.

“With interest, because you didn’t have any money on you. You’re lucky I’m just rounding up and not adding ten more.”

“You are– tremendously unfair to me, dude,” Roman snaps, shoving Remus out of the way as he says it.

“How the fuck do you think I got all those vibrators?!” Remus responds, loudly, shoving him right back and into the front of some coffee shop. “Business is business, baby!”

Roman catches himself on a nearby light pole and only lightly breaks his skull on it in the process. “Christ, just scream it to everyone on the streets, why don’t you?” he spits, and regrets it before he even finishes the sentence. “Don’t-”

“HELLO, PEOPLE OF FUCKVILLE!” Remus yells at the top of his lungs. “My dear brother would like to inform you that I–”

“Oh my God, shut the actual hell up,” Roman shrieks, hurriedly slapping his hand over Remus’ mouth in a panic.

Two passersby stare at them. Remus licks his hand. Roman pointedly keeps it over his twin’s mouth. Remus wiggles his eyebrows at him in a mock-flirting attempt and Roman eventually leaves his mouth alone, punching Remus’ shoulder for good measure.

“You’re obsessed with my mouth, huh,” Remus says with the same teasing tone he’d once used to tell Patton he could teach him about anatomy a thousand times better than Logan ever could. “Oral fixation?”

“Fuck off, Green Goblin.”

“Ooh, really? Wanna watch?”

Roman doesn’t bother responding to that one. He resolutely speeds up ahead, intent on reaching their rented cabin as quickly as physically possible.

Remus keeps up with him easily, because God hates Roman and has never let him have a single lucky day in his life. “If we’re getting something for Patton, it has to be dick-shaped.”

“It really doesn’t. Stop being gross. He’s already scared of you enough as it is,” Roman sighs.

“‘Shame, really. I like him,” Remus shrugs.

Roman raises an eyebrow at that; but then again, he’s talking to the same guy who has a history with his own closest friend that Roman can’t even begin to wrap his head around. When Remus says he likes people, what he really means tends to be more in the spirit of “I like to stare at them for hours on end and imagine what they’d look like if their organs exploded”, Roman wagers. It’s pretty much impossible for Roman to tell what Remus really thinks of anyone or anything.

Roman looks around as they walk back home. They had only been planning on exploring the closest town for the sake of sightseeing (and because Roman was nothing if not a city boy, and since the place their parents had decided on is lost in the middle of nowhere, he’d needed to see signs of civilisation to feel at ease; dragging Remus along for the hour-long walk to their current location had been an exercise in memory. By which Roman means he’d had to call on so, so many previous favors). The shopkeeper gave them a plastic bag to carry the box she’d put the glass sphere in (Remus had dubbed it a “stobe”, as in “star globe”, because Remus was a heathen and a freak) but Roman is dreading having to keep carrying it for their entire walk back. Not that he has any other option – there’s no way he was ever going to trust Remus with something so easy to break – but he still feels like complaining.

Remus isn’t paying attention to him; he seems to be enjoying the view of the last few buildings before they’re back to dirt paths and walking on the road again. There’s just enough connection on the way for them to be sure they won’t get lost (Remus’ phone is probably at less than 10%, because he never bothers to charge it; Roman would sooner die than let his get under 20%) but neither of them are looking. They’re walking side by side, with Remus slightly ahead; he’d always had a better sense of directions than Roman, which Roman supposes must come from the fact that Janus wouldn’t be capable of finding his own house with a GPS if he were dropped on the wrong side of the street.

(Roman is a bit fascinated with their dynamic, to be entirely honest. In public, Janus sometimes treats Remus like a hyperactive dog he’s in turn indulging or reigning in, and Remus lets him – when they’re alone, Remus tells him, he acts like a baby koala clinging to him for dear life, if baby koalas had pride. Roman hasn’t been able to tell yet how their relationship works or what it even is, but it had been “the two of them against the world” for so long that depending on each other almost looks to be an old habit, by now.)

(Roman can’t blame Janus for having been there for Remus when he hadn’t been.)

As soon as they enter the more woodsy part of their walk, Remus grabs a long stick and starts waving it around wildly. Roman jerks away from its path, landing across the road and halfway into a ditch. Remus laughs at him as he stumbles.

Roman steps out of the ditch with a huff and grabs Remus’ stick with his free hand.

“Ooh, yeah, grab my hard stick, big boy.”

“You’re gross,” Roman groans. He considers launching Logan’s gift at his twin’s face but thinks the glass might break. He tosses Remus’ stick out of the way – Remus elbows him.

“Jealous of my big stick?”

“If that was an attempt at an innuendo,” Roman replies, “it was stupid. We’re identical twins, so we probably have, like… uh…”

Remus gives him a long, smug stare that tells Roman he thinks letting him finish his own sentence would be more embarrassing than interrupting him to make it explicit. “Yeah? We probably have what, Ro-bro?” he says, like a jerk.

“The same, like, I mean… It probably looks the same,” Roman mumbles.

“The same what? What looks the same, brother dearest?” Remus insists, because he likes to feed on Roman’s mortification like a leech. “Surely it can’t be anything outrageous – you’d never have such a thought!”

“Shut up, dude,” Roman groans again.

Remus snickers at him but shuts his mouth, thank God. He grabs Roman's hand instead, “Come on,” he says, “you're walking like a snail.”

“Snails don't walk,” Roman answers.

“Exactly.”

[olliedollie1204]

also what do we think abt janus and remus rising up in WMTPG instead of just appearing- virgil just appeared bc of the adrenaline rush that came when logan announced the christmas gift exchange (aka he came involuntarily), but janus and remus rose up bc for once they were actually invited... much to think abt

[gay-space-creature]

Virgil: YOU FUCKING- *CHOKE*

Remus: If you EVER speak to him that way again-

Remus: I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!

Logan: Remus....

Logan: That's enough. They'll repress you...

Remus (to Virgil): You're LUCKY he's better than YOU.

Remus: *spits on Virgil*

Virgil: AGH!

Virgil: I'M TELLING THOMAS ABOUT THIS!

Virgil: HE'LL HATE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?!

Janus: To think... We spent so much time defending you....

I made a silly little comic about Virgil getting strangled. This was so nice. I absolutely despise this abusive piece of trash. It was so nice drawing him getting hurt.

[mountain-toes]

There's something so gut wrenching about so many people head cannoning Janus name as Dante, the man who followed Virgil through hell, before it was revealed