#tss whumper writing

[tss-whumper]

please believe me - a sanders sides whump one-shot

summary: roman has always been a little bit more fragile than he wants to admit. he gets dizzy spells and vertigo, and struggles to walk often because of this. but when he discovers that he can use a cane to better his mobility, he's amazed and delighted...until he tells the other sides, who do not take this well.

word count: 4.3k

content warnings: internalized ableism, ableism, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, bullying, emotional abuse, concussions, dry-heaving, all of the sides except for roman, remus, and logan could be seen as unsympathetic.

Roman liked to consider himself strong. Though he knew that all of the other sides were stronger than him physically, he also knew that he had a lot of stamina and fortitude of his own. After all, he was the only side who would regularly go on adventures of his own imagining, slaying pretend dragons and running through the forest. He also knew that he was often the one asked to do strenuous tasks, because he was the only one who had the energy to go from start to finish without slackening even a little.

But lately, that energy had been burning out quicker than usual.

Roman would be walking through his imaginary forest, and then suddenly, his vision would blur. His head would hurt. His heart would pound. And he would stumble and fall, gasping to catch his breath as his heart raced. But by the time he realized what was happening, he was on the ground, and it was going away. At first, Roman thought nothing of it. Probably lack of nutrition. So he ate more. It helped a little, but not a lot. Lack of sleep? He got his beauty sleep, ten hours a night. But even when he increased to eleven hours, the dizzy spells did not stop.

The longer it went on, the worse the spells got. They would last longer, and be more severe. There would even be times where Roman had to stay on the floor for minutes at a time, just to get his heart to stop pounding and his body to stop trembling. He was always thirsty, always hungry. No matter how much he ate and drank. And he started to grow wary of going into his forest alone. What if he collapsed and couldn't get back up? Each time he fell, it grew harder and harder to pick himself up. It started to feel like his bones were becoming brittle and useless.

Until one day.

He went for a little walk after a frustrating argument with Remus, making sure to keep close to his bedroom door, just in case. But this time, when his vision blurred and he teetered to the side, he held out his arms, grappling for something to keep him upright. And his hands wrapped tightly around a branch of a tree. The dizziness was still there, and Roman could see the world around him moving. But he was still. And he knew that he was still, because the branch did not move. The branch kept him steady, and helped him figure out where to slowly and shakily move his feet to keep walking. The branch made things feel less terrifying, like he had more control over his body and the situation.

It was revolutionary.

Ever since that day, Roman started to cling to branches and trunks and whatever he could to keep himself upright. And it went from being whenever he felt dizzy to all the time, that way, it didn't take him by surprise, and he would know that he had something to hold onto if the dizziness came on in a flash, as it tended to. And Roman felt so safe and secure, and more than anything? He felt brave again.

---

"Janus, your cane is so pretty," Patton marveled one day as all the sides gather for a movie night, "You never did tell us what it's for. Is it just for decoration?"

"Not really," Janus shrugged, sitting on the couch, "It's to help keep me from putting too much weight on my weak joints. It's just easier to walk when I'm holding onto something."

Roman's eyes went round as saucers when he heard this. He stared at Janus' cane, black polished wood, with a curve on one end for Janus to hold onto, and a flat base on the other for it to keep his body steady on the ground.

"You mean you just use the cane, and it keeps you from falling down?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

Janus wrinkled his nose, clearly confused by Roman's fascination with his cane and his disability. He pulled his cane closer to himself.

"I don't fall down," he said, "But it does help with keeping me upright when I'm feeling a lot of pain."

The other sides asked their own questions about Janus' cane and his disability, but Roman couldn't hear any of it. All he could think about was that cane. It was just like the tree branch in the forest. It kept Janus grounded, it gave him something to support himself with when his body gave out. It was perfect.

Roman gracefully excused himself, rushing to his room, stumbling inside and falling to the ground as another dizzy spell hit him. But he didn't mind being splayed out on the carpet, grinning like a child in a toy store as he started to conjure up a cane. The perfect cane. It wouldn't be black like Janus'. It would be red, so Roman could always find it. And instead of having a curved area for the hand, it just went out horizontally a few inches, and the handle was a nice plush material that was nice to hold. The bottom was flat like Janus', but it was wider. Roman thought about the strong trunk of the tree, how the wider the foundation was, the stronger the tree stood. Roman made the bottom of his cane about two inches wide, so that there was plenty of sure flatness for him to lean upon.

And then, it was finished. Using the cane, Roman struggled to his feet, clutching the cane tightly. Getting up was much easier when he had something to hold onto. The world rocked and spun around him, but as he gripped the plush handle of the cane, Roman didn't feel so scared. He didn't feel like one wrong step would cause him to crash back down. Slowly, he dragged the cane forward, and then, he took a step. He did not lean heavily on the cane, but he did rest about half his weight on it. The cane was perfect for orienting himself. Letting his body know where it was in space.

It was amazing. Roman almost cried from joy. How did it take him this long to figure out such a simple solution to his problem? Now, he would never topple over from a dizzy spell again!

---

The very first day Roman walked to the kitchen with his cane, he was all smiles. He dragged it gently in front of him, the way he had in his bedroom. Now, it was decorated beautifully. Roman had gone to the forest and delicately wrapped chains of dried flowers around his cane, making for a simple but elegant decoration. Roman felt as if he was glowing from the inside out. Every step was so certain. Every step felt like flying.

"Roman, what the hell is that?"

Air deflated from Roman's chest as he heard the intense hostility in Virgil's tone.

"It's my cane," Roman said, smiling at Virgil as widely as he could, though fear danced in his eyes. "It helps me walk. I get dizzy a lot, and I've been falling over. The cane keeps me from falling."

"You fall over," Virgil repeated, very deadpan in his delivery, "I've never seen you fall over."

"Well- yeah, it mostly happens in the forest," Roman explained, "When I've been running and playing for a while. But sometimes it comes on all of a sudden. I'm glad I found the cane before it happened in front of any of you guys. It's very unbecoming of a prince to be collapsing at random!"

But Virgil did not laugh at Roman's lighthearted remark. His gray eyes narrowed and he stared at the cane for a long time.

"You know, I hate Janus," he said slowly, "You know that. I hate him more than Thomas hates carrots. But there are some lines you can't cross when making fun of him. I can't believe you'd do something like this, Roman. It's a real jackass move."

"What...?" Roman felt tears form in his eyes, "What are you talking about? What's a jackass move?"

"This! All of this!" Virgil cried out, gesturing to the cane, "Faking some dizzy thing to try and get attention? To try and make some sort of mockery of Janus' literal disability? That's not cute, Roman!"

Footsteps could be heard, and Patton and Janus entered the hallway from the kitchen. Patton was holding a mixing bowl. Janus was holding a spoon in one hand, and his cane in the other. Roman was trying his hardest not to cry, biting his lip so hard that he could feel blood dripping down his gums inside his mouth.

"What's going on in here, kiddos?" Patton asked, "It's a Saturday morning, there's no need to yell."

Then, Patton laid eyes upon Roman's cane. And Janus did too.

"It's another one of Roman's little ploys for attention," Virgil hissed, glaring murderously at the creative side, "He must have seen Janus' cane yesterday and gotten all pissy. Because the attention wasn't all on him."

"That's not true!" Roman choked out, desperate for support as he gazed imploringly at Patton, "I swear, it's not true- I- I've been getting dizzy for weeks! Before I even knew about Janus' cane, I was struggling with this- why won't you believe me??"

"If you were struggling, why didn't you tell us?" Janus asked quietly, "Everybody knows that little Princey can't keep a secret to save his life. Why now? Why this?"

"I..." Roman choked on air. "I didn't want to worry you guys. I didn't know what it was, and- I was trying to fix it on my own. I don't understand. The cane helps me walk, just like it helps you."

"Roman, honey," Patton said gently, approaching Roman and placing a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure you do get a little dizzy from time to time. That's normal for somebody as active as you. And your diet isn't exactly the healthiest, what, with all that fruit you eat. So much sugar, and you barely eat anything at mealtimes."

"I eat plenty at mealtimes," Roman tried to reassure, "I swear it. This isn't something that can be solved by that stuff- at least, I don't think so."

"I know you want people to pay attention to you," Patton interjected, his voice gentle, but his eyes glistening with a warning, "I know you like being the center of everyone's focus, buddy. But you're a big, strong prince! You're Roman. You're supposed to be a valiant and brave prince. Don't you want to be a prince, Roman?"

"Of course I do," Roman whispered, a tear rolling down his face.

"Can you name any princes who use a cane?" Patton asked sweetly, and when Roman faltered, Patton continued, "Exactly. You're a big boy, Roman. You don't need stuff like this. Let's leave the canes to the actual disabled people, alright? It's the respectful thing to do, sweetheart."

Roman started to feel dizzy. He was not sure if it was from a dizzy spell or from the extreme overwhelm of emotions that were weighing him down. Perhaps it was both. All he knew was that he needed to get out of here. He gripped his cane and turned to go, but he found that something was keeping him there.

Virgil's hands were holding tightly onto Roman's cane, keeping him from moving it. Roman's fragile, trembling fingers were no match for Virgil's strong and certain ones.

"Please," he whispered, "Give me my cane."

"No," Virgil glowered, "You can walk ten steps to your room by yourself. I know you can. I've seen it. You're being a real dick, Roman. I just want you to drop the act, okay? I'm not asking for much."

"I need my cane, please," Roman begged, more tears dripping down his chin and his upper lip. "I feel dizzy."

"Of course you do," Janus muttered, rolling his eyes, "Of course you magically feel dizzy while we're calling you out. And here I was thinking I was Deceit."

Janus turned and walked back into the kitchen. But Patton stayed standing in the doorway, and Virgil stayed holding Roman's cane.

"I'm not backing off from this," Virgil said, "Go. Walk."

Roman realized that he was outnumbered by a long shot. Nobody pitied him. Janus was giving him the cold shoulder. Patton was staring at him with such disappointment in his eyes. And Virgil looked ready to kill him. There was nothing Roman could do. No other way to escape.

Slowly, his grip on his cane loosened. Immediately, Virgil snatched it from underneath Roman, causing the dizzy man to stumble. He caught himself, but it was clear that Roman was trembling wildly, not just out of fear, but out of fragility. His vision was going blurry, and it kept blacking out on him. His heart was pumping blood through his body so fast that Roman felt as though he might burst from the inside out.

But he had to walk. He had to escape.

Slowly, he put one foot in front of the other, even though he couldn't tell which way was truly forward. The ground seemed to zig-zag and contort. But Roman closed his eyes, hoping that the lack of vision would help him better figure out how to move in a straight line. It did not. He only felt more unsure. But when he opened his eyes again, he felt his knees give out, and before Roman could get his bearings, he had crashed down onto the bright white carpet of the hallway.

He didn't even hear the thud of his body hitting the ground. But what he did hear was the cruel, barking laughter of Virgil.

"You can't fool me, Roman!" he called out, "That's some good acting, though!"

"Roman, come on, honey," Patton goaded, "Walking is not hard for you. I've seen you do it hundreds of times. No more of this silliness, okay?"

Acting.

Silliness.

Maybe Patton and Virgil were right. Maybe Roman was faking all of this. Slowly, he tried to sit up. His head hurt so badly. A whimper escaped Roman, but he kept going. He had to keep going. He had to get away from the laughter, from the stares.

So he pressed his hands tightly onto one knee, and tried to prop the other upwards. So he could try to stand up. But as his body lifted off the ground, shaking like a fawn's, the walls and the ceiling swirled around him in such a confusing and dizzying haze that Roman fell right back down again. White hot pain burst through the wrist he fell on, and a sickening crack resounded through the hallway.

Roman waited for more laughter and taunting. He waited for more critiques, more chastising. But none came. Only a deep bellow from a voice that was typically so composed that it sounded like a computer.

"Give me the cane, Virgil."

Roman blinked blearily. He was facing away from where Patton, Virgil, and now, Logan, were standing. He could not tell if Logan was mad at him like the others were, but he could hear Logan's quiet footsteps moving towards Roman's shaking body.

"You gonna beat him with it?" Virgil sneered, "I guess I wouldn't expect anything less from Mr. Anger Issues, but maybe Roman deserves it. He's being such a bitch about this whole thing."

"Maybe he needs a little punishment," Patton agreed solemnly, "I'm not a violence guy. You know that, Logan, but- well...Roman isn't listening to us any other way."

Roman froze up for a moment. Was Logan really going to beat him with his cane? There was not a lot of strength left in Roman's body, but what little he had, he used it to curl up tightly, protecting his neck with his hands, and tucking his head between his legs. He held his breath and waited for the first strike.

But none came.

"This is ridiculous," Logan snapped, "Utterly ridiculous."

The logical side leaned down towards Roman, trying to make eye contact. Roman looked up, but everything was foggy and hazy. He could see three Logan's, but at the same time, he couldn't quite make out the details of any of them.

"I'm sorry," Roman mumbled, "'m so sorry...I didn't mean to- to make fun of anyone, honest! I just- I- I just wanted- to- to-"

"Shut up," Logan whispered to Roman, "You're a bit dilated...you hit your head on the floor, didn't you...?"

Roman didn't know what to say. He didn't know what the right answer was. He opened his mouth to try and say something, to try and plead for mercy, but when he did so, a wave of violent nausea passed through his body, and he retched, dry heaving in writhing spasms on the floor. He had not eaten yet, so nothing came out of his body except for a few globs of saliva.

"He's concussed," Logan mumbled to himself, and before Roman could figure out what was happening, he felt himself being lifted into the air by two large and soft arms. Instinctively, Roman leaned against the touch.

"Oh, please," Patton said with a little laugh, "I never knew you as somebody to coddle, Logan. Especially Roman. You've got to know he's faking. In all the years you've known him, have you ever seen him get dizzy?"

Roman whimpered as he waited for Logan to change his mind. To stop with his kindness and drop Roman onto the floor, joining in with Patton and Virgil.

But no.

"I have," Logan snapped, "I have seen it, and if either of you had a speck of intelligence, you would have seen it too. Roman's been compensating his whole life, probably before he was even aware of it. Don't you remember when we were younger? Roman would always cling to the stair rail when going up and down stairs. Ever wonder why? In the kitchen, every single time I've seen Roman in the kitchen, he's leaning against the counter and gripping onto the side of it."

"If all of this is true, then- then why haven't you ever brought it up?" Virgil snapped defensively.

"It's not my business, first of all," Logan shot back, with just as much ferocity, "And second of all, Roman's a stubborn idiot. He would never admit to having a physical problem, especially because of the torture you two are subjecting him to the second he tries to do something about it! If I'd known that you two would react like this if I had a disability, then I would never tell you anything!"

"K- kiddo, that's not what happened," Patton stammered, "You've got it all mixed up! We weren't doing anything akin to torture, that's- that's such a nasty word, and-"

"Yeah? Is it nasty?" Logan asked, "Well then, consider yourselves nasty. You really thought I would beat Roman with his own cane when he's already showing signs of a concussion? He collapsed right in front of you, and you still don't believe him? It's clear that you don't care at all. And the problem is not the disability. The problem is that it's Roman who has it. You call Roman a fake? You're the ones that are faking, pretending that you care about him. If Roman has any sense in his head, then he'll never trust either of you again after today. Though knowing him...he'll likely give you a lot more mercy than you deserve."

And with that, Logan turned on his heels and marched out of the room, carrying Roman and holding his cane tightly. Roman could not speak. He could not move. Everything was fuzzy and far away, like he was being shoved farther and farther towards the center of the world's largest teddy bear. And throughout it all, his head throbbed, each pulse stronger and more agonizing than the last.

"It's alright, Roman," Logan mumbled, setting Roman down on a surface that he recognized as his bed.

Roman blinked and let out a soft noise as he felt his soft red comforter be pulled over his trembling body, and an eye mask be put over his tear-filled eyes.

"Sleep now, Roman," Logan goaded gently, "You need rest. I'll be here with you. Don't be afraid. Just let yourself sleep."

So Roman let himself sleep. And soon, the room was silent, other than Roman's soft snoring echoing off his bedroom walls.

---

When Roman woke up, his head hurt, and so did his wrist. And the very first thing he saw when he took off the eye mask was Logan's face, staring down at him with an immensely worried gaze.

"Hi," Roman said, a bit awkwardly, "What's going on?"

"Seriously...?" Logan asked dryly, "You get your cane stolen from you, you fracture your wrist and get a concussion due to Patton and Virgil's mistreatment, and the very first thing you have to say is hi? What's going on?"

"What am I supposed to do, make a royal proclamation?" Roman quipped softly, groaning as he tried to sit up. "Why did you say all that stuff to Patton and Virgil? Now they'll be mad at you. Besides, they're right. I am faking. This stupid cane was just a way for me to get attention."

Logan glared sharply down at Roman, causing the man to shrink back against his numerous pillows.

"Don't you ever say that again," he snapped, "You are not faking. And you did not make the cane to get attention. Perhaps you were looking for positive attention when it came to the decorative aspect. But you were not using your disability as a ploy or a game. Don't let the others convince you of something that is so nauseatingly untrue."

"Don't talk to me about nausea," Roman mumbled, "I feel like I'll throw up just looking at food."

"Well, that tends to happen when you're concussed," Logan replied, "But don't worry, Remus is coming back as we speak with some medication that should ease that. But we need to talk, if you're feeling up to it. We need to do something important."

"I'm up for important," Roman said, "Anything but more sleep."

"Alright," Logan said, and he picked Roman up, soon setting him down on a strange cot-like appliance.

Roman winced as he felt straps tighten around his form, keeping him tied down to the table. And he did not remember much after that. He just remembered feeling everything tilt up and down, up and down, over and over. Like a hazy, torturous roller coaster. Throughout it, Roman wondered if this was Logan's special way of punishing him. If Logan had been waiting until Roman trusted him to harm him the way Patton and Virgil wanted him to.

But when Logan was finished, he quickly unstrapped Roman, and placed him back onto the bed, waiting a few moments for Roman to reorient himself and feel well enough to listen and speak again.

"I'm sorry about that," Logan said, "But that was a tilt table test. I was monitoring your levels while moving the table, to check a theory I have about you. And I was correct, as I tend to be."

"A theory...?" Roman mumbled blearily, "What theory...?"

"Roman, it looks as if you have postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome," Logan said, "Otherwise known as POTS. This is a medical disorder that would explain your, as you describe them, dizzy spells."

"You mean...there really is something...?" Roman asked softly, "I'm not faking it...?"

"Yes," Logan said, "There is something. But even if there wasn't something, you are not and never was faking anything, Roman. Mobility aids are nothing more or less than what they are defined as. Items that aid mobility. It does not matter the medical conditions of who uses them as long as they actually help the person in question. If you were getting dizzy spells and you found that a cane helped you in day-to-day life, then whether or not you have a medical disorder, that is a valid thing you can do."

"But Patton and Virgil said-"

"Patton and Virgil are wrong," Logan said firmly, "And so is Janus. It was abundantly clear that you were not mocking or making fun of anything. You were not playing a prank. They were merely uncomfortable with the idea of you being more fragile than they expected. They didn't want to challenge their preconceived notion that you were some...invincible, endlessly strong caricature."

"Princes are supposed to be strong," Roman murmured, his eyes dimming, "Patton's right. There isn't a single prince who uses a cane."

"You are very strong, Roman," Logan protested, "Regardless of whether or not you have a cane, your physical and mental fortitude are unmatched. Why, I don't know anybody else with so much energy, even in the morning. I don't know anybody else who has the determination to live out each day the way you do. It's...astounding. It's admirable. The cane is inconsequential. All it does is help you. The amount of help you need from an inanimate stick does not determine your strength."

"Thanks, Logan," Roman said after a long moment of bewildered silence, "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"I know we have our qualms," Logan admitted, seeming a bit embarrassed, "But nobody deserves the abuse you endured. The abuse you've been enduring. You shouldn't have to hide your struggles to be treated with respect. I won't agree with you on everything, but...I'll always believe you, Roman, if you come to me with a personal problem. I trust you."

That was the only thing that Roman had wanted to hear in the whole wide world at that moment. By the time the door opened and Remus was there with medicine, Roman was crying, and Logan's eyes were a little bit teary, and Remus was admiring Roman's cane and threatening to light it on fire, the way that siblings tend to.

"I love you both," Roman sobbed, a wide, grateful smile on his face, "Thank you so much. Thank you for believing me."

---

(hee hee. yes i have pots and i am projecting onto roman. hush. also, i will be coming out with a part two on this one if i remember to, so stay tuned for that!)

[prodigal-explorer]

anaroceit week - day one - what family is

@anaroceitweek

prompt: forest/magic

relationship: platonic/found family anaroceit

word count: 3.6k

(cw -> whump, physical abuse, kidnapping, selling people (implied), chains, codependent relationships, cursing, bruises, creepy/intimate whumper)

By now, Janus was used to this. All of this. 

He trudged through the forest in a pattern, his feet adjusting to the soft yet spiky underbrush. His face hardened into one expression so his captor couldn’t tell how he was feeling about anything, though anger rose and fell in his chest each time he took a breath. His hands, bound in front of him in fists, the rope coiled around his fingers, and being pulled along, as if he was a dog on a leash, didn’t hurt so much anymore. Now, they just felt numb and tingly from the tightness of the ropes and the force behind each yank pulling him forward. 

Janus had lost count of how many times he had been stolen like this. He wasn’t dumb. He knew he was valuable. Having magical powers tended to add a lot of rarity and demand for a person. Especially powers like Janus’. People liked what Janus could do for them, even if the hallucinations he created weren’t real. He could just cross his fingers together, and show any fantasy that people wanted. Loved ones, memories, images of fame and grandeur. Janus could create anything. Sure, none of it was real. But in the moment, did it really matter? Sometimes, pretending is just as good as having the real thing. 

A tree root jutted up from the undergrowth that Janus didn’t see, his eyes clouded over in thought. His foot caught underneath it, and he came crashing down onto the forest floor, the damp fallen leaves doing little to break his fall as his bound hands curled upwards and knocked the wind out of his chest as he landed. Kicking his feet, Janus scrambled to get upright from his position, but his captor only yanked his hands out from underneath him, starting to pull Janus along once again, dragging Janus along and wrenching his shoulders painfully. 

“We don’t have time for this,” his captor threatened, his voice cold and demanding. “You’re going to be held with my new apprentice. He’ll take real good care of you until we can get a good enough price for you.” 

“You aren’t selling me,” Janus seethed, finally finding his footing and stumbling upwards. “I’m not an object. I’m a person just like you.” 

“Hmm,” his captor responded. “You keep telling yourself that. My apprentice is here under punishment. Poor thing hates the forest and the outdoors. So…feel free to cause as much harm as you’d like. After all, if you manage to escape from him, it’ll only lead to more punishment for him. And he’s got another…product…with him. Who knows? Maybe you two will be friends?” 

One of the sentences the captor hummed carelessly stuck with Janus, and he yanked a little on the ropes to try and stop his captor. It didn’t work. He only got pulled harder along, almost falling forward for the second time. 

“What makes you think I care about your little apprentice?” Janus hissed, his voice laced with venom. “If he’s anything like you, he deserves whatever he has coming.” 

“Oh, darling,” his captor laughed in a disgusting giggle. “He’s nothing like me.” 

There wasn’t anymore time for questions, as Janus was dragged to what looked like an abandoned shack in the middle of the woods. There was no other civilization, no signs pointing to where to go. Even if Janus did manage to escape, it would be a long way back to any city where he could get help. But Janus didn’t care. He’d escaped from worse. 

The door to the shack was opened, and Janus was shoved inside with little care. The inside was even dingier than the outside, the only source of light being the cracks in a boarded up window. From the corner of the room, chains clattered gently. Janus peered over in that direction and saw a man who looked to be around his age, maybe a little older, playing with a small, dirty, torn up stuffed animal. Surely, this man was far too old for such a toy, but he didn’t seem excited or happy. He seemed vacant, closed off. Defeated. 

“Virgil! I’m back!” his captor called out. “And look at this! I brought you a friend! Here, I’ll put him right next to you.” 

Janus seethed as his captor pushed him to the floor and started to attach the chain cuffs to his ankles before untying the ropes around his wrists, and quickly replacing them with the chains after putting mittens on Janus’ hands to prevent any sort of power usage. After all, his fingers had to be linked in order for his powers to work. Now, Janus was rendered useless. 

Looking to his right, Janus tried to get a better look at Virgil, adjusting his eyes to the darkness. Virgil’s raven black hair was a matted mess, and he had bruises blooming all over his face and pale, exposed chest. He had been wearing a white t-shirt, but it was tattered and ripped to the point where it was providing him no protection. His eyes were dark and stormy with unspoken emotion, but his body was still. He didn’t even look like he was breathing. Janus felt the overwhelming urge to take Virgil’s hands and comfort him, but obviously he couldn’t in this state. 

“Roman! Get out here!” the captor shouted towards the kitchen. 

Janus listened closely, and to his surprise, he could hear sobbing coming from the other area where the man named Roman apparently seemed to be. His cries sounded young and scared. Janus almost felt pity, but he was also confused. Virgil seemed to be the other prisoner his captor was talking about. So who did that make Roman? 

When Janus realized, his eyes narrowed. The apprentice. 

Why would the apprentice be crying? He didn’t have to be chained up. He had all the power here. He was probably the one who hurt Virgil so badly. Janus hardened in resentment with every sob he heard. This Roman guy didn’t have the right to cry. He could leave at any moment and nobody would stop him. 

“Roman!” the captor shouted again, but his voice adopted a chilling sing-song attitude. “Don’t you wanna come out here and meet your new pet?” 

“No!” Roman shouted, still not revealing himself. “Please don’t make me, I can’t do this again!” 

“Oh, please, you certainly can,” the captor replied, rolling his eyes playfully, as if Roman was an over-dramatic child. “Come and meet him. He’s almost as lovely as you. Come on out, my dear, and if you’re good to me from now on, I’ll give you double rations.” 

That seemed to be what convinced Roman to emerge. And Janus was not expecting what he saw whatsoever. 

A scrawny redheaded boy with dark skin and extremely curly hair came out of the kitchen. He seemed to be an adult, but he was definitely on the younger side. Roman stood tall, even taller than Janus, and definitely taller than Virgil, but he shook like a leaf, which rendered his domineering height unthreatening. If Janus was unchained, he could make mincemeat out of such a person. Especially in this state. 

Roman appeared to be just as battered and injured as Virgil, his body caked in dirt, and his clothes ripped up and ruined. One of his pants legs had been nearly completely ripped off, revealing his bruised and scratched up knee. But more importantly than any of that, Janus’ eyes locked on the most shocking thing about Roman: the chain around his ankle. 

The crying man was just as trapped here as Janus and Virgil were. 

“I trust you’ll take good care of him,” the captor said, approaching Roman and putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Roman flinched at the touch, but folded in relief when he realized the action was kind and gentle. 

“I will,” he whispered. “I will, I just- I need- I-” 

“What do you need, pet?” the captor asked, starting to weave his fingers through Roman’s hair. “Tell me what you need.”

“Please let me be beautiful again,” Roman whispered. 

Janus didn’t understand what Roman meant. Sure, he was dirty and was wearing rags, but he was undeniably beautiful. His tangled hair framed his face, his cheeks round and youthful. His eyes were large and downturned, and they were a bright amber that could almost be mistaken for orange. He had a flat nose, and small yet plump lips that were chapped, but still a rosy pink color. 

Either way, his captor laughed at Roman’s request, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking Roman down so the boy was forced onto his knees. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” his captor teased. “You’ll never be beautiful again. Those days are over. You’re mine, and nobody who’s mine is ever. Beautiful. Got that?” 

Roman opened his mouth to speak in protest, but his hair was harshly yanked again, which led to him slowly nodding, a tear sliding down his grimy cheek. 

“Now…I’d better see some new bruises, and you’d better write down any information you learn,” his captor threatened. “It could be so much worse than this.” 

Roman took a deep, shuddering breath, his entire body trembling. His voice came out in a soft, terrified whisper. 

“Yes, sir.” 

The captor left with a laugh that shook Janus to his core, slamming the door behind him. Roman and Virgil flinched at the sound, but Janus remained stoic, his eyes narrowing as he thought long and hard about the entire situation. Roman was a prisoner too. Why? 

“Do you have powers too?” Janus asked Roman, who was still crumbling on the floor and crying. 

Roman didn’t respond. But Virgil did. His voice was quiet, and it sounded like the vocal equivalent of wind breezing through trees. 

“He has none,” Virgil whispered. “But that doesn’t matter. He belongs to Foster just as much as we do.” 

“Ah. Foster. That’s his name,” Janus said, his words clipped. “What’re you here for?” 

“I just got snatched off the street one day. Foster somehow knew everything about me. My address, my name, my powers.” 

“Me too,” Janus realized. “I guess he captured us in the same way. Stalking us, and then just…going for it, I guess. He wants to sell me.” 

“Same here,” Virgil said. “I don’t know what kind of creep would buy a person in this century. But I guess there’s a market for it. Foster seems like an expert on all this, after all. It doesn’t matter anymore, but…I can control clouds. I can move them around, I can make it rain, snow, lightning, whatever I want. It was cool.” 

“You think that’s cool?” Janus joked softly. “I can make people see anything. It’s an illusion, but I can make anything look real. I can make your best friend appear right in front of you. I can make you think you look like Angelina Jolie. It was…kinda fun. To just play pretend with anyone who wanted to.” 

For a moment, silence filled the room. But soon, Roman’s gasps and shuddering grew louder. 

“Please don’t hate me,” Roman whined quietly from where he sat, still on his knees. “Please. I have to do this, I have to make him happy, I have to. I have to.” 

“Roman, buddy, you gotta breathe,” Virgil mumbled, reaching out to put his chained hands on Roman’s thigh. “Breathe. He’s gone.” 

Janus stared at Virgil with incredulous shock. Why was Virgil helping Roman? Why was Virgil helping the person who would keep them stuck here? Was it Stockholm Syndrome? Was Virgil on drugs? 

Roman practically lunged at Virgil, and Janus flinched back, prepared for a fight, but when he didn’t hear any punching or kicking, he looked over at the two, and realized that they were embracing, Roman sobbing into Virgil’s shoulder. 

“Come on,” Virgil whispered. “Let’s do this again. You hit me, I hit you. Let’s do the right shoulder this time. Are you ready?” 

“No, I can’t, I can’t, please, please don’t,” Roman gasped, starting to panic as he shook in Virgil’s arms. “I just want to get out of here!” 

“We both do. Well, we all do now,” Virgil mumbled. “Okay. Let’s take a break. Let’s…get to know the new guy. How’s that sound?” 

“Okay,” Roman agreed, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay. I’m sorry, Virgil.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Virgil said, a strange sort of command to him considering his situation. “Fix it.” 

“You’re right,” Roman nodded, with a brotherly sort of sheepishness before turning to Janus. “What’s your name?” 

“Why should I tell you?” Janus asked with hostility. 

“Because I said so,” Virgil hissed, with an edge to his voice that Janus hadn’t detected before. 

A jolt rushed through Janus’ body. Virgil’s strange protectiveness towards Roman was terrifying to be on the receiving end of. 

“Alright, alright, fine,” Janus sighed. “I’m Janus. I already know both of your names because…well…yeah. What do we even do here? Do we just twiddle our thumbs and wait?” 

“Not exactly,” Roman said awkwardly. “Foster comes around for random checks. He wants to make sure that you both are…weakened well enough to be compliant.” 

“He wants Roman to hurt us,” Virgil muttered venomously. “Cruel ass motherfucker can’t even do the dirty work. He has to make his son do it.” 

Janus almost choked on air. 

“What?? You’re Foster’s son??” he demanded. 

“I might as well be,” Roman shrugged. “He saved me. I don’t know what from, but he told me it’s better if I don’t remember. He raised me, and…he’s given me everything. I owe him my life.” 

“And that’s why you’re here,” Janus realized. “You do whatever he asks of you, no questions asked, huh?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Roman asked. “That’s what family is.” 

Janus couldn’t help but scoff. 

“No it’s not! Family isn’t just blindly doing someone’s bidding just because they gave you food and clothing and shelter. Those things are the bare fucking minimum. A family is…people you can trust. People who you help and who help you just because you all want to make each other’s lives better. There’s no owing, no debts. It’s just…a friendly tradeoff. Family is who you feel safe around.” 

Roman shuddered. He certainly didn’t feel safe around Foster. 

“Right,” Virgil whispered, rubbing Roman’s back. “Right.” 

He seemed just as mystified by the idea of family as Roman. Roman seemed to listen to Virgil like he had the answers to everything. What sort of nonsense had Virgil been telling Roman about family before? 

Janus shook his head, figuring that it was unfair to judge Virgil for such a thing. After all, he had no idea how long Virgil had been kidnapped or the treatment he was subjected to. The treatment both of them would be subjected to, now that they were chained up and at the mercy of a puppet. 

But Janus found that as he glared at Roman, desperately trying to muster up some defiance, some hatred, something in those amber eyes, shiny with tears, made every negative feeling dissipate. Janus wanted to make those eyes light up with happiness. He could practically imagine how beautiful Roman looked when he smiled. Was this the same spell that Roman had Virgil under too? 

And when Janus decided to focus his attention on Virgil, he couldn’t help but feel extreme admiration rise through him as he watched Virgil, chained up and stiff with pain, holding Roman as if he were a child under his care. Virgil was so gentle, so careful, even though he had every reason not to be. He had every reason to be bitter and resentful towards Roman, no matter what his situation was. Janus’ face burned with shame as he realized that he almost had been exactly that. Virgil was much stronger than him. 

“Why were you talking about hitting earlier?” Janus asked. “The whole “you hit me and I hit you” thing? What was that about?” 

“Oh.” Virgil squirmed a bit awkwardly. “It’s…how we make it fair. Since I have to look all beat up in order for Roman to not get in trouble, every time he hits me, I hit him back in the same place. Anything Foster can do is a lot worse than what I can do.” 

“That’s…fucking awful,” Janus said after a long moment of bewilderment. “Are you serious? It’s just…a cycle of pain?” 

“Trust me, it’s a lot worse than the alternative,” Roman said. “We’ve tried so many other things. This is the only one that works. Besides…Foster- he likes how I look when I-” 

“When you’re all bruised up?” Janus joked, and when Roman flinched, Janus’ smile dropped. “Holy shit, seriously??” 

“It’s a win-win,” Virgil snapped angrily. “Except Foster gets both wins. He gets to see me too weak to escape, and he gets to see his little pet in pain. What a perfect world he lives in, where he gets everything he wants.” 

“I’m not joining in on that,” Janus said. “That’s insane. This isn’t like a game, this isn’t- I’m not falling for his trap. I’m getting out of here.” 

“No the fuck you’re not,” Virgil glowered. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Do you know what will happen if you escape?” 

“I’ll be free?” Janus said with a short laugh. 

“Sure, whatever, but think about what you’re leaving behind. Foster will see that you escaped, and you know who he’ll turn on?” Virgil asked. “Huh?? Do you??” 

“Virgil, stop.” 

Roman’s voice was demanding. Virgil rolled his eyes, but he slunk back against the wall. 

“You know I hate it when you talk for me,” Roman said. “I’m not a kid. I can handle this just as well as you can.” 

“Clearly, you can’t,” Virgil snapped. “We just saw-” 

“I don’t care about what you just saw,” Roman interrupted. “We protect each other. You don’t just protect me. If anything, I have it better than both of you. At least I know that Foster’s keeping me.” 

“Gee, thanks for the reminder,” Janus hissed. 

“So, let’s just…work together, okay?” Roman said. “It’ll get us hurt, but it’ll get us less hurt than any of the other options.” 

“What do you mean?” Janus asked. “There’s one option where nobody gets hurt at all.” 

“Yeah?” Virgil snorted doubtfully. “And what would that be?” 

“If we all escape.” 

Virgil and Roman stared at Janus for a long moment, before making eye contact with each other and starting to weakly laugh. The action seemed to take a lot out of them. They seemed almost out of practice with it. 

“You really think we have a chance of escaping Foster?” Roman asked. “Didn’t you forget we’re in chains? I don’t have a key or anything.” 

“We’ll pick the locks,” Janus said. “It can’t be that hard. These look to all be controlled by the same key. If we could pick one lock, we could pick all the others too. And we’d start by freeing me, because once I can make my illusions, Foster will be helpless against us.” 

“Wait, how do I know you won’t just run off the second we let you go?” Virgil asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Okay, let’s let Roman out instead and see how he does against Foster,” Janus snapped sarcastically in response. 

“You’re really fucking annoying, you know that?” Virgil muttered. “Okay, look. We’ll let me out first. I won’t be going anywhere without Roman, and my clouds can obscure Foster’s vision just as well as your illusions can. Sounds like a plan?” 

Roman was starting to smile, and Janus had been correct. His smile was gorgeous. 

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered, “Foster is pretty much all I’ve ever known. I want to be myself. I want to be in charge of myself. I want to have my own family. A real one.” 

“Hold on, Roman, you were talking to Foster about something before,” Janus said. “About being beautiful. What were you talking about?” 

Roman inspected his arm. Littered with bruises and caked with dirt. 

“Nobody could ever love somebody who looks like me but Foster,” he said plaintively. “Nobody. I look like a punching bag. They’re all over me. They’re all over my arms, my legs, my chest, my back…my neck. He’s made some of them. And he makes sure that they never fade away.” 

Roman took a long look in the dusty mirror that was hanging on the wall. 

He really was very superficial, wasn’t he? 

“Your vanity’s resolve is almost admirable,” Janus mumbled fondly, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what he does to you. You’re very beautiful.” 

“You’re just like Virgil,” Roman laughed. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“No he’s not,” Virgil said. “And I don’t either. Just like you tell me I’m strong, I’m telling you that you’re beautiful. It could take you a hundred years to believe me, but I know that one day you will.” 

“And one day, you will,” Roman said in response to Virgil. “Look at Janus. He looks like he could be a bodybuilder, and Foster still got him. You aren’t weak for landing in his clutches. Just…unlucky. Really, really, really unlucky.” 

“Whatever,” Virgil sighed. “We all have insecurities, blah, blah, blah. We need to focus on getting out of here. This is everyone’s last chance to back out. Are we doing this?” 

Roman nodded immediately. But Janus hesitated. He barely knew these two. Who was to say they wouldn’t just leave Janus behind? But either way, being left behind would probably be just as bad as being here with them. There was nothing to lose from this plan unless they failed. And that was no reason not to do something. 

“Alright,” Janus said finally. “Let’s escape this place.”

[tss-whumper]

egotistical - a sanders sides whump oneshot

(this was requested by a few of my friends, and inspired by an interaction i had while talking about roman in a discord server!)

summary: "Uh oh, better not give Roman a compliment. It'll stroke his ego, and we don't need that!". Roman is used to being the butt of the joke, the clown, the silly ingenue, the stupid prince. But what happens when the constant mistreatment and berating break him down past repair? After all, the ego needs praise and approval to survive. If Roman is constantly starved of the one thing he desires more than anything else, then he might just shut down.

word count: 4.4k

content warnings: verbal abuse, manipulation, all of the sides can be considered unsympathetic except for roman, virgil, and remus.

Roman was the ego. And nobody let him forget it.

Ego has a lot of different interpretations when it comes to the definition and what it could mean for Roman as a representation. Is he the Freudian ego, a part of the conscious mind that acts according to reality? No, that didn't sound very much like Roman at all. Is he the literal ego, which is a sense of personal identity and self-worth? Roman would like to think so, but he wasn't completely sure.

The definition of ego that all of the other sides, as well as Thomas, as well as the fandom interpreted Roman as was the figurative ego. Selfishness. Snobbiness. Inflated self-importance. In their minds, ego was seen as a flaw. Something that needed to be fought and suppressed in order to better Thomas.

It only made sense. Thomas was raised in a religion where greed and pride were both deadly sins. Wanting things was an aspect of Roman's purpose. He was the reason why Thomas reached for the stars to begin with. Along with this, was appreciation for Thomas' achievements. Roman was the cheerleader, the one who helped Thomas steel his nerves at auditions, the one who reminded Thomas that he was born to perform, and that the only thing stopping him from doing his best was his own doubts. That was all Roman.

But that wasn't the stuff that was noticed. And as hard as Roman tried to deny it, wearing his prince persona like it was a mask, his sash like a bulletproof vest as insults and backhanded compliments were constantly hurled at him, his visage was slipping.

---

"Look, look, guys, look!"

Roman ran as fast as he could out of his bedroom to the other sides, who were eating their lunch in the kitchen. Bouncing on his toes, Roman spun around, showing everybody the new outfit he had created, using red, orange, and brown accents instead of his usual red and white. It had taken all afternoon, and Roman was so happy with his work. Sewing and needlework did not come easy, and the prince spent a lot of time, trial, and error to ensure that this outfit would be impressive.

"Tada!" he cried out, "Do you like it? Isn't it cool? I can make you guys new outfits if you want! If you like this one, I can make a matching one!"

"Looks good, Princey," Virgil said with a small smile, between bites of salad, "I like what you did with the sleeves."

"You do? Really?" Roman's eyes glimmered with joy and he squealed, "Oh, I'm so glad! See, what I did was I puffed out the sleeves, and then-"

"Aww, come on, Virgil, why'd you do that?" Patton asked, a slight frown showing on his face as he grimaced, "Now he's not going to stop bragging about how great he is."

Roman felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Yeah, Pat's right," Janus chimed in, gazing at Roman's outfit with a critical eye, "And your needlework could use some, well, needleWORK, Roman. The stitches are so crooked."

"I made it for practice," Roman protested quietly, gazing down at his sleeves, hiding them with his hands, suddenly feeling extremely insecure.

Logan sighed with relief when he saw Roman duck his head.

"Oh, good," he said, "Now I can finally focus. Roman, there's really no need to constantly try and show off how great you are. We all have much more important things to focus on than your preening."

Roman forced a smile so big and splitting that it hurt. He hoped that nobody could see the tears that were starting to blur his vision.

"Got it," he said through his gritted grin, "I'll go fix these stitches, then. See you guys later."

He rushed back to his bedroom, only realizing after he closed the door that he had forgotten to grab a plate of food. But it was just as well. After that interaction, Roman's throat had closed up. His stomach was in knots. He wasn't hungry anyway.

---

"I chose the movie for Movie Night last time," Janus mused out loud, "Roman, why don't you choose this time?"

"Really?" Roman asked excitedly, "You guys never let me choose anymore."

"Don't act like it was for no reason," Patton teased, "You kept singing during the movies, even after we told you to stop. You'd better promise not to sing this time, mister!"

Something invisible stabbed through Roman's chest.

"Uh-huh!" he squeaked, trying to hide how much that comment hurt, though honestly, he was so excited about choosing the movie after weeks of not choosing, that he focused back on the DVD collection quickly. "I wanna watch Brother Bear!"

There was a collective groan.

"Is...is that okay...?" Roman asked hesitantly.

"I love Brother Bear!" Remus said enthusiastically, "The moose are so funny, and the faces the bears make are the best."

"It's...alright, I suppose," Janus shrugged, putting in the DVD, sighing as he did, "What led you to choosing that one, Ro?"

"It's about brothers!" Roman cried out happily, before sheepishly smiling over at Remus. "I like stuff about brothers."

Remus grinned in response. "Yeah! Me too!"

"Aww, how adorable," Janus cooed, petting Roman's hair, "You're so valiant, Roman. So considerate of others."

Roman's heart lifted. "You mean it?" he whispered.

"Of course I mean it, doll," Janus purred, "You're such a sweetheart. You ask that like you don't hear praise often. Now, I just know that's not true."

It absolutely was true. But Roman did not dare argue and risk ruining this perfect moment. He was smiling so big that his mouth and face hurt, but it was a real smile this time. He started to rock back and forth on the couch, so joyful. Janus was being kind to him! Janus was giving him a real compliment!

The movie started, and Janus hugged Roman gently as all six sides watched it together. By the time it was over, everybody agreed that Brother Bear was a great choice of a movie. Roman was positively glowing.

"Roman," Janus mumbled, grabbing Roman's wrist before the prince could go back to his room for bed, "Can we...talk for a moment?"

Roman smiled and nodded. "Alright! How can I help you, Janus?"

He bowed courteously, the way royalty tended to. But it was clear that Janus, in all of his smooth, elegant, almost sultry glory, was all business right now.

"I need you to come with me to talk with Thomas tomorrow," Janus whispered, "We have to tell him that Virgil is messing up Thomas' recharge time by constantly filling his head with worries the whole time. I'm sure Thomas has noticed it, and he's more likely to listen if it's both of us."

"Oh, um...I don't know," Roman admitted, wincing slightly, "I think Virgil's doing a good job, as well as he can, at least. Anxious thoughts are always gonna slip through the cracks, right? And- I thought Thomas said that his recharge time has improved."

"Huh," Janus remarked, his expression growing colder, "And here I was thinking that you actually had some sense, Roman. Some basic observation skills when it comes to people besides yourself."

Roman's eyes widened, and he took a shaky step back, confused and astonished.

Janus had just been so sweet to him. What happened??

"I'm sorry," Roman said immediately. By now, he had learned that the sooner he apologized, the better. "I didn't mean to be- um- to not- uh- I-"

"Spit it out!" Janus snapped, before pinching the bridge of his nose and regaining his composure, "You should know by now that an apology means nothing if you don't even know what you're apologizing for. And I thought I was the manipulative one."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you," Roman protested, a tear rolling down his face that he desperately wiped away, but it was too late.

"Crocodile tears don't work on me, sweetheart," Janus cooed, "I give you all these compliments, I build you up and support you all night, and you can't even do this one little thing for me? You just have to argue with me and be right? No wonder the fandom can't stand you. You need to be knocked down a few pegs."

Roman winced as Janus turned on his heels and walked away, muttering under his breath. When the sound of Janus' footsteps faded away, Roman finally let out the sob that he had been biting back. It hurt to restrain it, burning his throat and stinging his eyes, but he didn't want Janus to think he was only crying to make him feel guilty.

It wasn't fair, Roman couldn't help but think. He had really thought Janus' compliments were real. He should have known that the only reason Janus would ever be nice to him was to get something out of him.

After all, Janus said this out loud on camera. And nobody even batted an eye.

Manipulation, the prince learned, was only a sin when Roman was the one being accused of it.

---

"Woah, good flip, Ro!"

Remus laughed in delight as he watched Roman flip pancake after pancake. Roman was not usually great in the kitchen, but when it came to Pancake Saturday, he had grown to master the art. He absolutely adored dying the batter different colors and making silly shapes for each of his fellow sides, so they could wake up to a new art piece.

This morning, as usual, all of the sides were chatting while waiting for their pancakes, and Roman glowed at Remus' praise.

"Thanks!" he said eagerly, "I've been practicing since last week! I think I'm really improving my form, though, I guess it makes sense. I have a pretty strong left arm!"

"Oh, here it comes!" Patton interjected, grinning at the others as he pointed to Roman, "The ego express! Choo choo!"

"Careful, now, Remus," Logan said, a small, amused smile on his face as he cut into his asteroid-shaped pancake, "If you keep inflating Roman's ego, he'll become even more insufferable."

Roman's eyes widened, and his face flushed so with embarrassment that he started to sweat. Quickly, he turned to face the pan, realizing with a jolt of panic that his pancakes were going to burn. He quickly flipped them over and turned down the heat with a trembling hand.

All Remus had done was give him a compliment. Was that not allowed anymore? Was Roman just so insufferable that it was impossible for him to get any sort of kindness without it being immediately reversed into something bad?

"The last thing he needs is more ego-stroking," Janus chimed in, "All he ever talks about is himself."

"All he ever cares about is himself," Patton added with a disappointed sigh, "Maybe we should all lay off on the praise. It's spoiling him rotten."

Roman's grip tightened on his spatula. He was making custom pancakes for everybody, not eating a bite until everyone else had eaten their fill, and somehow, he was still being accused of thinking only of himself?

The prince's mind raced as he thought about all of the things he had done. He had given up the callback, his livelihood, the one thing he wanted more than anything. After bringing up the idea of communicating with both the director of the callback and the fiances of the wedding and being shut down, Roman was the one who had been punished for deciding on the wedding after the fact. It was always his fault. Everything was always Roman's fault, and he apologized, and groveled, and did everything he could. He listened to every degrading joke about him with as much grace as he could. Sure, Roman wasn't perfect. Sometimes, he was pushed to his limits and he just had to fight back. But it wasn't often. Roman went through so much pain to make the others happy. He gave up so much.

When would the sacrifices ever be enough for them?

"Aww, is Princey crying?" Janus taunted, snapping Roman out of his thoughts.

Roman realized that he was indeed softly sobbing, his tears landing on the hot pancake griddle and sizzling as they evaporated. This always happened to him. He got so lost in his own mind that he started to cry before he realized it soon enough to stop. Now the others would think he was being manipulative!

Immediately, Roman reached forward and turned off the heat on the stove. He scooped up the pancakes on the griddle and placed them on Remus' plate. And then, he ran as quickly as he could out of the kitchen and back into his room, hearing laughter echoing behind him. Roman could hear everything

He wished his door was thicker.

"Goodness, that Princey," Patton sighed, "He can't handle any sort of criticism, can he?"

Did Patton realize how hurtful receiving a constant barrage of criticism every second of the day was?

"No, he certainly can't," Logan agreed, "Frankly, it's very disturbing to see him acting so childish. He throws a tantrum every time he doesn't get his way."

Did Logan have any idea how often Roman did not get his way?

"He never listens," Janus scoffed dismissively, "I've tried to tell him to knock it off, but I swear, he's even more spiteful than Virgil."

How could Janus call Roman spiteful after throwing him under the bus in front of millions just because Roman didn't do exactly what he wanted?

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Roman wasn't an idiot, as much as people liked to call him one. He read every single hate comment. He saw every single poll. Nobody liked him. The other sides didn't like him. The fans despised him. They called him a brat, a narcissist. They made him the butt of every joke, and wrote him as a bully in all of their stories. They only ever saw the person he had practically killed himself trying to erase. They only cared about what Patton and Janus said, and not at all about what Roman did.

"If so many people hate me, then maybe I'm the problem," Roman whispered to himself, gazing into his mirror, pristine and crystal clear. "I can't remember the last time I read a nice comment about myself online. I don't know if there was ever a time when Janus or Patton genuinely complimented me. Maybe I don't deserve compliments. I'm just stupid, old, egotistical Roman! And no matter how hard I try, I'll never, ever be who they want me to be! Never...ever..."

He collapsed against his mirror and cried bitter, desperate tears. His chest was being clawed from the inside out. Roman felt like the world was spinning, and like there was no way out of the hole he was being buried in. There was no winning on Christmas, no winning any day for the prince.

No matter what he did, Roman would always walk away the loser.

---

"Do you have any idea how fucked up that was?"

"You're sitting there eating the pancakes he woke up at 6am to make for you, and you're calling him selfish?"

Virgil and Remus were up in arms, side by side as they angrily questioned the other sides. It was rare that this ragtag duo agreed over anything. Their purposes were so opposite. But in this moment, the one thing they shared was their extreme concern for Roman.

One thing about Roman was that he was horrible at pushing down his feelings. But recently, more and more, Virgil and Remus had witnessed the prince putting on a perfect, flawless mask in order to hide his brokenness. Why wouldn't he? It was clear that when he did show his sadness or anger or frustration, it only resulted in punishment. Humiliation, or chastising, or exclusion. Even on camera, in front of millions, Roman couldn't escape the endless barrage of hate and torment.

"You're bullying him, and you don't even care!" Remus spat angrily, "Do you realize how much Roman has given up, just to make you all happy?"

"I can't even remember the last time you guys have been genuinely nice to him," Virgil seethed, "It's always followed by some smartass, backhanded remark."

"What are you talking about?" Janus asked, narrowing his eyes at Virgil, "You're always teasing Roman."

"Not the way you three do," Virgil snapped, "Always getting after him just for feeling happy? Making him think that he can't ever be proud of himself, that he can't ever express self-worth. You guys are all suppressing the most important part of Roman! I know he can be a bit braggy and over-confident sometimes. But that's his literal fucking job!"

"It's not like we humiliate and dogpile on Janus whenever he lies to us!" Remus exclaimed, "Because we know that's his job! We don't make fun of Patton when he has a bug up his ass! Everyone is allowed to do their job, everyone is allowed to make mistakes and take wrong steps except for Roman. And it's fucked up."

"You two are being ridiculous!" Patton exclaimed, tears forming in his eyes, "Why are you blaming us? Are we not allowed to critique Roman anymore? He has a lot to learn. He's the reason why everything's been going downhill to begin with!"

"Don't you ever fucking say that again," Virgil hissed, getting up in Patton's face, which was something that Virgil hardly ever had the courage to do with Patton. But when it came to Roman? Virgil was ready to unsheath his claws at a moments notice. "Roman was the one who suggested that Thomas talk to Lee and Mary-Lee about the callback. We all shut him down. Because we didn't think Roman was capable of having a good idea. Janus, Patton, you two kept pulling Roman in opposite directions, using him as a pawn for your stupid fucking games! Treating him like a trophy, or- or an accessory instead of a real side with feelings and wants!"

"Nobody ever asks Roman what he wants," Remus added, "That's why he's so outspoken. Because nobody ever asks him anything. Nobody ever even tries to make Roman happy, so he, because he's a big, stupid, naive, oblivious idiot, tries to make himself happy! But it never works, because you sick fucks can't stand to see him happy! All three of you use Roman like your free punching bag. Say and do whatever the fuck you want to me. But leave my brother alone. He's fragile, and you know that. He would never fight back hard enough to actually match the amount of hurt you've caused him. And that's why you chose Roman."

"You know it's true," Virgil muttered, grabbing Remus' wrist and walking away, "Come on, Re. Let's go check on Princey."

"He's the egotistical side," Janus said as the two sides walked away, "He needs to be knocked down a peg."

"The only sides who need to be knocked down a peg are you three," Remus responded icily, "Not Roman. Anyone with a brain can see that he's already at the bottom."

---

Roman? Wow, he's a horrible person!

I can't stand Roman. He's so annoying.

Don't tell Roman that you made him happy, it might boost his ego.

By now, Roman was crying so hard that he could barely read the words on his screen. He swiped the top of his hand against his eyes as he tried to move the neverending tears out of the way. Deep down, he knew this wasn't a good idea. Reading hate comments was never a good idea.

But Roman felt like he deserved it.

After all, he was the egotistical side. If he didn't change, then he would never escape this endless hell of insults and deception. Roman had to choose between his own well-being, and the happiness of the others. It was tearing him apart inside. The deepest core of his identity was being stretched thin.

Roman was the ego.

But he could no longer think of himself without feeling disgust and hatred.

"Hey! Open the door, fuckface!"

Roman gasped as he heard Remus' voice. He struggled to his feet and stumbled to the door, wiping and wiping at his face to try and get rid of the tears. He opened the door and tried to smile, in the most unassuming way.

But Virgil and Remus were not having that.

"Stop that, you fucking idiot," Virgil said, before quickly correcting himself, "I mean...Princey."

"What's going on...?" Roman whispered hoarsely, "Did I do something wrong? If you're here to get angry at me, please- just do it. I'll fix whatever I did wrong. I'll change it. I swear."

Virgil and Remus stared at Roman, slack-jawed, for a long time. Roman squirmed.

"Did I say something bad...?" Roman asked hesitantly.

"I'm going to kill them," Remus said simply, his face relaxed, but his eyes manic. "I swear, I'm going to fucking slit their throats."

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Virgil mumbled, guiding Roman to his bed and sitting him down on it, "You're Roman. You're...you're the ego."

"I know," Roman said, his voice pained, "Please don't remind me."

"I have to remind you," Virgil pressed, "Because- you- you're throwing away the most precious parts of yourself. Just to appease those stupid sons of bitches out there. Janus, Logan, and Patton? They have no idea how hard it is to be you. For months, I've watched them bully you and treat you like- like a toy. They never stop pushing you around, and I don't understand how you've survived it this long."

"I haven't survived it," Roman whispered, curling in on himself, "I picked the wedding."

"Because Patton basically made you!" Remus pointed out, "He kept guilt tripping you! He knows how much you care about being a good person, and he used that against you!"

"I- I made fun of Janus' name, though," Roman protested, squirming where he sat.

"After he manipulated you to hell and back and openly admitted that he was only ever nice to you to get something out of you!" Virgil cried out, "I wish you'd done worse!"

"I can't," Roman said firmly, staring at Remus and Virgil with a chilling sureness to his gaze, "You can, Virgil. And you can, Remus. But me? I can't. I can't do anything about this. If I do, it'll just- it'll make everything worse. Every time I try and say something- every time I try and defend myself- it just doesn't work. I just become the villain again. I'm always outnumbered, and- and nobody cares about how the egotistical, stupid prince character feels about anything."

"You're right," Remus said, surprising both Virgil and Roman, "That's why we have to make them care. We should make our very own video, all about you. Telling the fans about everything from your perspective. There are people who care about you. I know it. There are people who call you their favorite side. I just know that there are. We just have to find them."

"But- I can't make a video all about me," Roman whispered, "That's so self-centered."

"Yeah," Virgil said, gently putting a hand on the prince's shoulder, "That's your literal job, Roman. You're supposed to be a bit of a self-centered brat. Just like Remus is supposed to be a dirty-minded fleabag, and I'm supposed to be a paranoid bitch. We're all supposed to be a little flawed. Everyone expects you to be perfect without expecting that from anybody else, and it's...it's fucked up. But the only way we can change that is by you embracing who you're supposed to be. Instead of constantly trying to be who everyone else wants you to be."

"Virgil...that is the most High School Musical pep talk I've ever heard," Roman remarked, "Except for the calling yourself a bitch part."

"Thanks," Virgil snickered, "I learned everything I know about cheesy pep talks from you. You're Thomas' cheerleader, kid. But- you can't be Thomas' cheerleader without being your own cheerleader too. And I know it's hard. Those other sides are dicks."

"Total limp, floppy, teeny tiny dicks!" Remus piped up.

"Yeah, that," Virgil agreed, before continuing, "But- we just have to be stronger. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you were all alone, because...I want you to know that I always have your back. Always. We fight, but- you're a good guy, Princey. A great guy."

"And you're my brother!" Remus exclaimed,"We're supposed to fistfight each other to the death every full moon! But...you never forget about me. You never act like I don't deserve to exist. What we have isn't exactly friendship, but...I'd call it brotherhood. In that rough-and-tumble, dysfunctional, indie 90's movie way."

"I like that," Roman admitted, "You guys are the best. I- I'm sorry if I haven't been the greatest to either of you before. If I'd known you felt like this about me...I just- I've always been scared to get closer to you two."

"Of course you were scared," Virgil pointed out, "You had no reason to believe we wouldn't treat you just like Patton, Janus, and Logan do. Why would you risk adding to the bully collection? I get it, Princey."

"I get it too," Remus said, "Now come on, guys, can we please stop being cheesy and start getting some revenge?"

"I don't know about all that right now," Roman said, smiling as he let the tears pour down his face, though now, they were tears of joy. "I don't know if I'm ready yet. But one thing's for sure...from now on, those three can make their own damn pancakes!"

All three of them dissolved into giggles. Together, they turned Roman's room into a blanket castle, with pillows stacked to the ceiling to make towers, and string lights hung around the walls to create a nice ambiance. They watched all of Roman's favorite movies, and together, they all sang as loudly as they wanted to.

And it was wonderful.

Roman realized as he tussled and roughhoused with Remus and Virgil between the pillow columns that it was okay to be the egotistical side. And that even though it was hard, Roman was so happy when he was thinking highly of himself, and bragging, and showing off. And he was even happier when Virgil and Remus were supportive, showing off their own flaws with devious pride.

Pride was okay. Here, pride could be, for just a little while, a good thing. And it was so refreshing.

[tss-whumper]

how the sides would be described as whumpees in a scientific report

(this is just for fun because i saw another whump blog doing this!)

(also i didn't include patton because i just don't like writing him as a whumpee.)

(cw for mentions of torture, kidnapping, and mentally breaking a person.)

roman -> young adult male, late teens to mid twenties. a perfect subject for senseless torture. noble, eager to please, idealistic to the point of delusion. a beautiful crier. most effective in front of a camera. could make millions in ransom $$. has a bad habit of trying to steal attention and favor that makes him generally unlikeable among other subjects. attached to his brother, is extremely distressed when they are separated.

logan -> adult male, late twenties to early thirties. very difficult to break. be cautious; he has the ability to outsmart you if you are not careful. does not view himself as valuable, will accept degradation with little reaction. knowledgable about the workings of the human body. a viable candidate for an assistant position, if broken enough.

virgil -> adult male, mid to late twenties. sarcastic and mouthy, but will submit quickly to those stronger than him. a martyr who will always put himself in front of weaker subjects. does not think highly of himself. breaks easily. not as strong or athletic as he looks. eats very little, is known to give his food portions to other subjects.

remus -> young adult male, late teens to mid twenties. very opposite to his brother. strong-willed, does not submit. seemingly impossible to break. not defiant, but not submissive either. sometimes appears to enjoy torture, but not in a sexual sense. it seems to be some sort of coping mechanism or front. mindlessly loyal to his brother, will do anything to ensure his safety.

janus -> young adult male, early to mid twenties. enigmatic, will not reveal anything about himself or his past. protective of weaker subjects, but his own safety always seems to come first. regularly attempts to manipulate his captors. be careful. he can be very convincing. the most determined to escape. keep a close eye on him.

[tss-whumper]

*materializes into existence*

Hi :D

Inspired by your whump tss fics!

Anyway, mayhaps an idea: Whumpee is very distrustful of everyone, even after being rescued. The only person who can come close to them without them getting very tense is Caretaker. The rest of the team is... well, unsure about Whumpee at this point. Someone says something that sounds a little too much like Whumper (accidental trigger), and Caretaker is the only one who can calm Whumpee down.

Do with that what ya will.

Have fun :D

hi!! thank you so much for the support, this is an amazing idea! i think i'm going to do my heroes and villains au for this one, it's a really good fit for this particular prompt, plus, father figure janus has my WHOLE HEART he's the best caretaker.

this fic features whumpee roman, caretaker janus, and mentions of whumper patton! also, logan and virgil are there but they aren't really anything they're just chillin'. logan is just trying his best.

also the beginning kinda just offers some general exposition to the au and the dynamics so it's just short little snippets of life before the big angst bomb comes raining down.

(cw -> past parental abuse, flashbacks, panic attacks, brief physical violence)

Roman wasn't a violent dog.

But he knew why he bit.

Every night, he saw the face of his uncle, the man who raised him, the man who taught him everything about the world. And he shivered, because while he never wanted to see Patton again, he also wanted nothing more than to be enveloped in his arms one more time.

When he looked in the mirror, Roman wanted to erase himself and start over from the beginning. Permanent scars that were never going away, endless reminders of what a failure he had been. His gauntlet was the only part of him that was pristine, and even that was so out of his reach.

Janus told him that it was Patton's fault that he didn't know how to use his powers, but Roman just couldn't believe it. He was a superhero. He had to know how to use his powers no matter what. Being a kid was no excuse. Being young and impressionable was no excuse. Being starved and beaten and tortured every time he made the smallest mistake was still not an excuse.

Roman was a hero. He had to be better.

--

"Virgil, come on, how many times do I have to remind you to wipe your feet before walking in?" Logan groaned, "We're guests in this house, we should not be dirtying it."

"Sorry, Pa," Virgil mumbled, "I'll clean it up."

"Thank you," Logan said, "And have half a mind not to do it again."

Roman, who was seated on the couch as this argument occurred, squeezed his eyes shut steeling himself as he waited for the slap. Or the hit. Or a cry of pain from Virgil. But seconds passed, and there was no sound except for the spray cleaner and scrubbing the floor. The mess took all of ten seconds to clean up, if that. Roman didn't understand. When he was under punishment with Patton and had to clean floors, it felt like it took much longer.

--

Roman's face was wet with tears, but he found himself feeling scarily numb as he sat in Janus' lap, fiddling with the gemstone necklaces held loosely around his neck with common kitchen twine.

"Ro...we really need to do something about these nightmares," Janus murmured, nothing but warmth in his voice and body. Roman almost felt safe in his arms. "It's not healthy for a kid your age to be waking up screaming every night."

"I'm sorry, sir," Roman said flatly, still trapped in a hellish haze, "I'll be better. I'll do anything you want, just spare me. Please."

Janus could feel his heart shatter in two. He hugged the teenager close, starting to pet his hair gently.

"Oh, baby..." Janus whispered, "What on Earth are we gonna do with you...?"

--

"If you hate me so much, maybe you should just put me back where I came from! You didn't have to adopt me, you could have just gotten a perfect kid instead!"

It was rare for Virgil to shout, so when Roman heard it, he was shaken immediately. Out of pure self preservation, he hid himself in the blanket he had been wearing. When Logan and Virgil argued, it was difficult, and it was messy. They were both headstrong people, which often led to butting heads more than either of them, or the two people they lived with, liked.

"Virgil, don't be ridiculous, I don't hate you!" Logan retaliated, "I just want you to stop closing yourself off, it's useless to try and handle everything in the world by yourself! You're just a child, when will you get that through your head??"

"Maybe I will once you stop micromanaging me like I'm five years old!" Virgil yelled, "I'm not a baby anymore, Pa, I don't need you hovering over my shoulder! Do you know how hard it is to be known as the tattletale at school?? Do you even care?? No, you don't, because all you care about is making yourself feel helpful!"

"I could strangle you right now!"

"Fine! Do it, see if I care!"

Virgil stormed off, slamming the door to his room, causing Roman to tremble where he sat. Oh, boy. Virgil was going to get it now. Roman waited for Logan to roar, to scream at Virgil to open the door before he regretted ever raising his voice at him. The thought made Roman so nervous. Virgil was injured already. He couldn't handle being strangled too. He just couldn't.

So Roman did the heroic thing: he stepped in.

Before Logan could take another step towards Virgil's room, Roman rushed in front of him.

"Virgil didn't mean it, Virgil didn't mean that!" he insisted, his words spilling over each other.

"Were you listening in to our conversation?" Logan sputtered, his face turning a bit red, "Wh- why would you do that? That was between me and Virgil, it has nothing to do with you!"

Logan side-stepped Roman, coming closer to Virgil's room. In a panic, Roman lunged at Logan, hoping to protect Virgil from any sort of wrath.

"Get off me!" Logan exclaimed, "Roman, what are you doing??"

"Stay away from him!" Roman begged as he punched and kicked blindly, thinking of nothing except weakening Logan, protecting Virgil. Weakening Logan, protecting Virgil. It was his responsibility. "He's still healing!"

"Roman, stop!" Logan pleaded, "Please, stop it, you're hurting me!"

Roman was much younger than Logan. But he wasn't that much weaker. He was a young hero, having trained his entire life to fight people, while Logan was just a civilian. No superpowers, no training. He was a bit fragile, in fact. So it wasn't a surprise that Roman was "winning" this exchange, but the child was too blinded by panic to realize this.

"Don't touch Virgil!" Roman begged, "Don't, please, he can't handle it! He can't handle that, he's good, he's good, he'll be good!"

"Janus!" Logan started to scream, thrashing to get away from Roman, "Janus, help me!"

And just then, Roman's entire world seemed to stop.

Logan's begging and crying for help sounded so much like his own. The way his words would bounce against the wall, hitting nobody as he was forced to endure hours of torture in solitary confinement, no sound to keep him company except for his own fruitless pleading. Logan already sounded so defeated. He sounded like he was ready to die. Just like Roman had been all those times before.

Roman's breathing grew shallow and stuttered, and the second he loosened his grip, Logan scrambled out of Roman's arms, shoving him hard. As Janus raced into the room, he saw his child hyperventilating, and Logan with a scratched up face and broken glasses.

"What- what on Earth happened here?" Janus demanded, "Logan, what did you do??"

"What did I do?" Logan repeated, "Why are you asking me that?? Roman's the one that attacked me, he tried to kill me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I'm sorry-!" Roman whispered, starting to grip his own hair as he curled in on himself.

"He's a little monster!"

Roman's shallow breathing turned into desperate gasps as he wheezed irregularly, his chest rising and falling largely.

"There's ice in the freezer, I'm so sorry, Lo. I'm so sorry. I should have warned you- I'll pay for your glasses."

"No need," Logan said coldly, "I need some space, if you don't mind. I'm getting tired of being attacked from all sides."

Janus opened his mouth to say something to Logan as the angry man left, but he was distracted by the sound of Roman's fight for air. When Janus looked over, the child had tears streaming down his face, his eyes large and wild, as if he was a wounded animal.

"Darling...come here," Janus whispered sitting on the floor in front of Roman and starting to pull him close.

"No, please," Roman whispered, "Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I- I-"

"Shh...shh, Roman, don't speak," Janus murmured, hugging Roman gently. "Breathe. I understand. I understand you. I do."

Janus saw so much of himself in those terrified brown eyes. Roman just wanted to protect somebody, and it had gone way too far. What was the poor kid to do? Of course, he had to apologize to Logan. But that would have to be at another time.

Roman shuddered, and before he could overthink anymore, he threw himself into Janus' arms, sobbing vehemently into his shoulder. Guilt washed over him like waves, and he almost wished that Patton was around to punish him. It was what he deserved for attacking somebody weaker than him. In that regard, was Roman really any different from Patton?

"I'm bad," Roman mumbled, "I'm bad, I'm a villain- I'm horrible-..."

"Shh," Janus repeated, rubbing gentle circles onto Roman's back, "Shh, darling. You're not bad. You're not a villain. You're a child. You're a child who's scared. Let yourself be scared. I'm here for you. I'm going to protect you, sweet thing. I promise."

"But what about Logan?" Roman asked, staring up at Janus with tear-stained cheeks and round eyes that broke Janus' heart.

"Logan will be okay, darling," Janus reassured, "He will be. I'm going to help him, and I'll take him to the doctor's, and I'll make sure he's doing okay. He'll understand. He will. He's got to."

"I don't know why I did that," Roman whimpered, "I don't know why I kept going, I could have stopped, he cried for help, I could have stopped!"

"I know, baby, I know," Janus soothed, "I know how it feels. I know. You made a mistake. You messed up. But you're not in trouble. You're not going to get hurt because you hurt someone else. What's the use of that? Then, everybody is hurt, and nobody is happy. Does that make sense?

"I- I- I guess so," Roman whispered, "But- Logan hates me. He hates me now, he hates me, he thinks I'm a monster-"

"He does not think that," Janus said calmly, "He was speaking while he was angry. Think about it. Do you say what you mean when you're angry? Does anybody?"

Roman shuddered. Patton did. But he didn't say so.

"It'll be okay, sweetie," Janus reassured, continuing to hold Roman as he rocked the teenager gently on the carpeted floor. "It's okay."

Janus used to be a violent dog too.

He understood why Roman bit.

[tss-whumper]

christmas when you're alone - i

some lovely roman christmas angst for the soul.

merry christmas eve to all who celebrate! this story is for those who love a bit of sadness during the holidays. or in this case...a LOT of sadness.

2.3k words (i plan on coming out with a part two soon that's based on a request! all you rosleep fans out there will be a big fan of it, wink wink!)

(cws -> emotional/psychological abuse, guilt-tripping, toxic parental figures. also, patton and janus are the main "whumpers" so to speak while logan, remus, and virgil are more like bystanders. this is just a very sad day for roman.)

Christmas was one of Roman's favorite holidays. Everything about it to him was nothing short of spectacular--the lights, the beautiful music, and most of all, the Christmas spirit. The giving and the wishing and the believing. Roman really, really liked the believing. After all, what was Christmas without the magic?

This year, Roman was determined to create the best Christmas yet. After a turbulent year with a lot of hurt feelings, Roman figured that a fantastic Christmas would be the best way to make everything perfect again. So he worked tirelessly on decorating the house, making sure there were elements to the decorations that everybody enjoyed. Sentimental ornaments for Patton, tasteful silver string lights for Logan, golden candlesticks for Janus, a gingerbread graveyard for Virgil, and a creepy-looking inflatable Santa for Remus. While none of it was particularly Roman's taste, it did look cool when it was all put together, like a kaleidoscope of Christmas spirit, aesthetics bumping into each other and mixing together. And besides, it didn't matter if Roman liked it. Christmas was about giving, after all! And Roman would do anything to make the others happy with him.

When the house was finished, Roman started on creating and wrapping his gifts. Being Creativity, he had the entire universe at the tips of his fingers. He could give anybody anything he wanted, as long as it fit in the mindscape. So he tried very hard to give everybody gifts that would be meaningful and sweet, and he wrapped them with gentle care. Roman wasn't particularly good at being gentle or careful, but it didn't matter what Roman was good at. All that mattered was his friends' reactions to his beautiful and thoughtful presents. He desperately wanted to see them happy, but he was also worried about what might happen if they weren't happy.

Thinking about that made Roman's stomach twist, so he distracted himself by blasting "All I Want For Christmas Is You" while taking a shower with hot-chocolate-scented sugar scrub.

---

The month zoomed by faster than anybody had anticipated, and before he knew it, Roman was waking up on Christmas morning. And everything felt perfect. He could smell cinnamon rolls being baked in the kitchen, and the cheerful chatter of his friends. Being a heavy sleeper, Roman was used to being the last one awake, so he was quick to get himself ready so the rest of the group wouldn't have to wait on him for much longer.

After putting on a red sweater, brown pants, brown socks, and a reindeer headband, Roman felt ready to go. He smiled a few times in the mirror, just to make sure that he looked perfect. Then, he walked out, joining all the noise and bustle that his friends were making seamlessly.

The cinnamon rolls were warm, the conversation was silly, and everyone seemed to be getting along. Roman just sank in his chair, taking in all the celebratory atmosphere as if it was more valuable than oxygen. Everything was going so well. It felt too good to be true.

Probably because it was.

"Roman, what took you so long?" Janus asked, "Was getting your hair and makeup perfect more important than having breakfast with us?"

His question was carelessly flung into the air with a teasing attitude. The words stung Roman like a slap.

"I don't have any makeup on," Roman replied, trying his best to keep a smile on his face, "I got ready as fast as I could. I'm sorry, I must have slept in a bit more than usual. You all weren't waiting too long for me, were you?"

Silence hung in the air like a cloud of fog, until finally, Patton spoke up.

"It's okay, buddy! We learned our lesson now. Next year, we'll just start without you! That should motivate you to get up on time."

Roman winced, his cheeks burning as Logan and Virgil chuckled, and Remus dove into another cinnamon roll. His eyes felt hot as Janus stared at him with a cruelly amused expression, his gaze practically boring into Roman.

This was going to be another hard day, wasn't it?

---

Things started to go even more downhill when presents were being opened. Roman struggled to stay still, so excited about both his gifts, and the gifts that others were receiving, that he found himself constantly squirming in his spot on the floor, surrounded by crumpled up wrapping paper and shiny new items.

"That one's from me!" Roman exclaimed eagerly as Virgil opened up a new pair of black Converse. "They're high-tops, see? And they're platform, because you said you wish you could grow taller for Christmas. Now you can! And look, there's spiderwebs on the bottoms! I painted them myself!"

"Wow..." Virgil said, putting on the shoes and walking around in them. "Cool. Thanks, Roman."

The air turned cold, and Roman started to feel very, very uncomfortable. Virgil seemed happy with his gift, but everybody else seemed upset. Roman didn't understand. Was something wrong with Virgil's shoes?

"Roman, do you- really think that was a sensitive choice?" Patton asked, "How would you feel if someone got you a gift targeting something you're insecure about?"

"Insecure about?" Roman asked, his heart leaping out of his throat, "What- what do you mean? I didn't mean to do anything wrong!"

"Stop attacking Patton and answer the question," Janus hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"I-" Roman choked, looking around the room for any semblance of support. He didn't understand. Why was this happening? He thought he'd gotten Virgil the perfect gift. He looked at his list and picked the one thing that seemed impossible. The one wish that Virgil added, but didn't expect to receive. What was so bad about that?

"Are you just going to sit there and look stupid, or are you going to apologize?"

Even Logan was doing this now?? Roman tensed up. His heart started to pound, and his hands trembled against his will. He slid them under his knees so nobody else would see how afraid he was. After all, that would probably make everyone madder.

"I'm sorry, Virgil," Roman whispered, his voice too watery to speak any louder. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I just wanted to get you something thoughtful."

"Thoughtful," Janus muttered under his breath with a short laugh, exchanging a glance with Patton, who quietly giggled. "Is he even capable of thought?"

"It's...whatever, Roman," Virgil said awkwardly, "They're cool shoes. Can we just move on to the next person?"

Everybody else carried on, perfectly normally, as if nothing had happened. But Roman just couldn't. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he repeatedly squeezed them shut and opened them, trying as hard as he could not to cry in front of all of his friends on Christmas.

When it was his turn to open a gift, Roman smiled when he saw that it was from Janus. The past gifts Janus had given were lavish and extravagant, and Roman loved things that made him feel even more like royalty. He carefully unwrapped the golden paper, and tried to mask his confusion as he held up a very, very large book. It was incredibly heavy, to the point where his muscles were straining while he tried to read the cover. And when he did, he felt like he was going to die.

A Comprehensive Guide to Manners and Etiquette.

As everyone else read the title, they started to laugh. Remus high-fived Janus, and Patton snorted, hiding his smile behind his hands.

"Look, Roman, it's extra convenient for you," Janus said, "See? It's almost as big as your ego."

This caused the rest of the group to howl with laughter, and Roman to bow his head, quickly swiping a hand over his cheek before anybody could catch a glimpse of the tear that had fallen as his heart broke on what was supposed to be the most magical day of the year.

But no matter how Roman felt about it, this was a present. He had to do the polite thing.

"Thank you, Janus," he said, cringing at how choked up he sounded.

"Aww, you're welcome, Roman," Janus cooed, "Merry Christmas."

He patted Roman on the head patronizingly, and Roman felt like he was going to suffocate. He was only able to breathe again when the attention was off him, as Patton opened his next present.

Roman tried to steady his breathing, focusing on what everyone else was receiving. He laughed at their jokes, marveled at their presents, and pretended like everything was perfect. It really wasn't much different from performing onstage. All he had to do was play a character. He just had to be the happy, indestructible Princey that everyone wanted him to be.

But that was much easier said than done. Even when Roman stopped speaking, the insults and cruel remarks continued.

"A megaphone! Better not let Roman have it."

"I love this poetry book. It's way better than all the sappy shit Roman writes."

"Roman, aren't you happy with your gift? Now when you feel like being an attention whore, you can write in this diary instead of whining to us about how the lipgloss you ordered is the wrong color."

"This is the last time we let Roman decorate. Look at how gaudy this room is. It's almost as loud as him."

It.

Didn't.

Stop.

The world was spinning. Everything was going wrong, and Roman couldn't understand why. He had tried so hard. He did everything he could to make the others happy, putting in hours to prove that he was more than the selfish, egotistical, bratty caricature that they berated him constantly for being. Maybe Roman was being stupid, thinking that things would be different today just because it was Christmas. But now, Roman was experiencing his very first Christmas in which his biggest wish didn't come true.

He just wanted a day where he wasn't being berated and teased for every move he made. If it was really that hard for the others to resist pulling their tricks and humiliating him, then maybe Roman was the problem. Maybe he had messed up too many times, and was now irredeemable. He would always be the evil twin. The stupid one. The bratty bitch who always ruined every room he walked into. The egotistical one who needed to be knocked down a peg. It wasn't fair. Couldn't they see he was trying? What more did he have to do to prove that he was more than his past mistakes? If groveling and changing everything about himself to the best of his ability wasn't enough, maybe it was time for Roman to give up. Maybe he was going to have to resign himself to being the first punching bag in history to wear a crown and a sash.

"Roman, what are you doing?"

Roman blinked as he heard Patton's voice, stopping his zoning out as he realized something dreadful. His shoulders were rising and falling sporadically against his will, and his breathing was audibly stuttered. Everybody was staring at him with wide eyes, and something salty and wet settled in the groove between his lips.

He was crying. Not just crying--sobbing. Uncontrollably.

"Oh, great, here we go again," Remus sneered, "Little Princey didn't get exactly what he wanted on Christmas."

"That's not why I'm crying!" Roman choked, "I have to go-"

Hands tightly grasped onto his shoulders, pushing Roman back down into his sitting position before he was able to get far off the ground. Janus smirked at Roman as the creative side flinched.

"You're not going anywhere," Janus said, "On a family holiday? What would Patton think?"

"Ro, I just don't understand," Patton cut in, "Why do you always have to make everything about yourself?"

"You totally just killed the vibe," Virgil added quietly.

"We were having fun before you had to go and put a damper on everything," Patton added, "You're ruining Christmas, Roman."

As Roman gazed around the room, he saw not a shred of sympathy. Not even a hint of curiosity or recognition pertaining to why he was feeling this way. Why he was choking on his own tears instead of laughing and having fun like everyone else. Nobody cared. Nobody wanted to keep Roman around except to further embarrass him.

His tears were funny to the others. To them, he was nothing but a sad clown.

"Please let me go," he begged, "Please. I'm sorry. I just need some time in my room, and then I won't do anything wrong for the rest of the day."

"Maybe you should go to your room," Logan said.

"But maybe you shouldn't come out," Janus added, "What do you think, Patton? Is it too harsh to give him a time-out on Christmas?"

"The better question is, can we trust him not to be a whiny little bitch for the rest of the day?" Remus chirped.

As the group deliberated over whether or not Roman had a right to celebrate his favorite holiday with his dearest loved ones, the prince shut down. He closed his eyes and stopped fighting for air through his gasps and sobs. What was the point? What was the use of doing anything if every day was going to be like this?

Roman didn't even push back when Janus carried him to his room, placing him on his bed and locking the door behind him with a magic seal.

How did the fun sound so much louder when Roman was far away from it?

As Roman curled up under his blankets, he let himself cry fully, knowing that nobody would be able to see him and ridicule him anymore. His sobs echoed off his walls, dissonant with the joyous laughter that taunted Roman outside his door.

He really was all alone, wasn't he?

---

taglist -> @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @amazon-me-bitches @izaachehim

(let me know if you want to be tagged in the second part!)

[tss-whumper]

That sounds awful; I'd love to read it. (But maybe someone could comfort him at the end? Remy? You like Remy and Roman together, right? Right? /lh)

(okay this is ridiculously late considering that i wrote this fic at christmastime and now it's february, but here is the long-awaited sequel to christmas when you're alone!)

(cw -> attempted solitary confinement, panic attacks, mentions of emotional abuse)

word count: 1.9k

The wafting scent of Christmas dinner made Roman's mouth water, but he couldn't bring himself to summon any food. A part of him didn't think he deserved it. After all, he had been stuck here, locked in his room with a magic seal for almost ten hours now.

Usually, Roman wouldn't keep count, but it was one of the only things keeping him from going insane.

With his powers, Roman was typically able to sink in and out of any room in the mindscape, but when Janus made the magic seal at his door, it prevented his ability to do that, rendering him trapped in his bedroom, where he almost thought he could sense the walls starting to close in on him.

The laughing and chattering outside never stopped, and it was driving Roman mad. Why did they sound like they were having so much more fun when he wasn't there? Before he knew it, more tears were sliding down Roman's cheeks as he reflected on the dreadful morning he'd had.

It just wasn't fair. He had tried so hard. Everything he did was in spite of his abilities and personality. Despite being the ego, he did nothing but care for other people. Despite being insecurity, he let the other sides dig at him over, and over, and over. Every single thing he did sitting down at that Christmas tree was unnatural, and that meant that it took so much effort. But nobody seemed to care. In fact, it was almost like they made a game out of trying to break Roman, shattering his attempts at being good and obedient.

It was like they didn't want him to succeed.

The prince curled in on himself in the bed, and he was starting to sob so loudly that he grew hoarse from how much energy it was taking. But the tears kept coming, causing his body to spasm unnaturally. He was trying so hard not to choke on his own tears that he didn't even hear the signature sound of somebody rising into his room.

"Come on, girlfriend. You gotta breathe."

When a gentle hand touched Roman's back, the prince immediately flinched away, expecting an unfriendly touch. But when he smelled a very overpowering coffee-scent and saw that the hand reaching out was sunkissed tan like his instead of pale like the other sides', fear gave way to confusion.

"Sleep?" Roman whispered, "What- what are you doing here? It's only 5pm. It's not time for bed yet."

"Please. Call me Remy. And I wanted to come by and see if I could join in on the festivities," Remy said, "Even bitches like to have fun sometimes, right? I don't know. They let me hang out, but...it didn't seem like they actually wanted me around, you know? And when I saw you were missing, I asked around. Nobody gave me a real answer. So I thought I'd investigate for myself. And here we are."

And now, Remy leaned in, and he took off his sunglasses, propping them up on top of his head. He gazed at Roman with those shockingly sharp gray eyes, eyes that sought truth.

"What the hell did they do to you?"

Roman shuddered as the question was asked. It was strange and unfamiliar, as his tongue flailed to come up with an answer. Frankly, Roman wasn't used to being pitied. He wasn't used to his side of the story being heard out without being ridiculed or dismissed. And because of the events of the morning, Roman couldn't bring himself to tell and risk getting punished again.

"It was my fault," he whispered, "You should go back with them. I'm supposed to be alone. I'm...supposed to think about what I've done."

Roman expected the weight on the side of his bed to lift, and he expected Remy to sink out the moment he was dismissed, with an air of relief. Thank God he didn't have to deal with the whiny little prince anymore.

But no such thing happened. Remy only stared, and he crawled onto Roman's bed fully, his gaze never faltering for a second as his mouth pressed into a tight line. Roman could feel the rage emitting off him in waves, and the feeling made him shudder.

"What you've done?" Remy practically spat, "What did you do?"

Roman judged Remy's tone as an indication that he was angry with him. So words spilled from the prince, in a desperate attempt to correct anything wrong he might have done to vex Remy. He couldn't have somebody else hate him. He just couldn't.

"I was bad on Christmas," Roman whimpered as he held back his tears, "I was bratty, I got the others the wrong gifts, I was insensitive, I- I wasn't grateful enough for my gifts, I cried. I cried and I ruined everything, and- maybe I never should have been there to begin with. Maybe I'm the problem and I need to just- stay here. Out of the way. I never should have left my room to begin with, I-"

"Girl. Girl, calm down. Please."

Remy's gentle tone cut through Roman's hysteria as he hugged the prince tightly, attempting to ground him with his limbs. Trying to use his body to let the panicking side know that he was still on the ground. He wasn't floating away. He was here. And he mattered. His words mattered. Roman couldn't help but lean into the touch, starved of comfort and human decency.

"Please," Roman whispered desperately, "Please don't leave me, I can't be alone again, I can't. I'll do anything, I'll do anything you want, I'll never cry again, I'll never speak again. I'll make you anything you want, I'll be anything you want. Just please- please-"

"Oh, babydoll..." Remy hugged Roman closer, starting to rub circles on his back. Roman could feel the rings on his fingers, but it was comfortable. "Babydoll, please, stop. Stop talking about yourself like that. You don't have to do anything to keep me here, you don't have to pretend to be something you're not. I'm your friend. I want to help you no matter what."

Roman winced.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I'm sorry-"

"No. None of that, honeybun. Please?"

Remy gazed at Roman with such earnest eyes, Roman couldn't tear his own tear-filled gaze away. This was so different from what he was used to. Why wasn't Remy yelling? Why wasn't he laughing? Why wasn't he taking Roman away, why wasn't he rolling his eyes? This felt like the stuff of fantasy, something that Roman dreamed up. He stayed silent as he stared at Remy, trying to drink his presence in fully. If it was a hallucination, Roman was sure as hell going to try and enjoy it.

"You're not going to say sorry when you didn't do anything wrong. That's not gonna happen," Remy said carefully, holding Roman's trembling hands and squeezing them, "You're spiraling. You're panicking. That doesn't usually just happen to a person, especially someone like you. You're generally mentally okay, you're usually doing fine. But lately...things have been so off. And I think I know why."

Roman couldn't help but tense up, terrified of what Remy was going to say.

"Why?" he whispered, purely because he felt like he had to.

"Those bitches out there are abusing you."

"What??"

The word burst out of Roman before he even had the opportunity to control it. His mouth hung open and he felt like his entire world had turned upside down with that statement. He tried to rush to defenses, to tell Remy that it wasn't abusive to help Roman become a better person, that he deserved it, that the others would never abuse anybody.

But he couldn't speak.

Roman couldn't say a word because deep down, he was wondering if Remy was right.

None of this felt right. Instead of a person, Roman felt lately like a caged animal at the zoo. Trapped, stuck, mistreated, dirty, forced into humiliation so people could gawk at him and laugh. No matter what he did, it was always wrong. No matter how hard he tried, it was never enough. Was that really how life was supposed to be?

"Honey, do you really think it's fair that you got locked up on Christmas day?" Remy murmured, "Or that instead of a nice present, you got a book about fucking manners? The other sides out there told me everything, or rather, as much as they wanted me to tell. I'll bet there's so much more that's so shameful that they couldn't even say it. They know what they're doing is wrong. They know they're hurting you beyond repair, and they don't want to admit it because they don't want to lose their toy."

Roman flinched, and Remy shook his head quickly.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to say you're a toy. You're not. It's just- they treat you like one. They think they can break you over and over with no consequences. But that's wrong. There's gonna be consequences. I'll make sure of it."

"You can't," Roman said immediately, his eyes growing wide and desperate, "Please. They'll hate me. They will, I know they will. They'll think I pushed you onto them, they'll think I'm using you. I can't get punished again, Remy. Please. You don't get what it's like to be trapped here alone."

"You're right, I don't," Remy said, "But you shouldn't be able to get it either. Nobody deserves to be locked up like this, especially on Christmas. I know you can be a bit...rambunctious, Ro, but you're a good person. You're good, Roman. I know that. And I think you know that too."

"I-..." Roman deflated. "I don't know. No matter how good I try to be, it's just not good enough for them. And what's the point of goodness if it doesn't help the people around you?"

"That's the thing, babydoll, you are helping the people around you," Remy reassured, starting to gently run his fingers through Roman's thick, curly auburn locks. "Virgil hasn't taken off those shoes. They fit him perfectly. None of them had to take on the burden of decorating the house, or arranging the gifts to look pretty, or setting the table with milk and cookies. That was you, honeybun. That was Roman. Nobody else. The Christmas magic doesn't come from anybody else here. It comes from you. No matter what they have to say about it, you created all this. Without you, this holiday wouldn't be in the mindscape at all."

Roman opened his mouth to speak, but he was just overwhelmed. He started to smile, almost deliriously. It felt so good to be seen, to be recognized in such away, to get attention that wasn't bad. And Remy was somebody that Roman had always admired. Confident, cool, sassy, always able to stand up for himself, no matter what. Remy was the type of person that Roman wished he was more like. And here he was, helping him, reassuring him, telling him how much he mattered and showing him what made him special.

Roman couldn't have asked for a better Christmas present than that.

"Thank you," he whispered, "I'm sorry. Merry Christmas. I...should have gotten you a present."

"Hmm, I know a present you can give me," Remy said with a gentle smirk, "Can I have a magic hug from my magic boy?"

Roman laughed breathlessly and threw himself once again into Remy's arms, relishing in the endless warmth that the man gave, marveling at how he always managed to smell like a warm, fresh cup of coffee sweetened with honey.

"You're magic too, Remy," Roman whispered, curling up closer to Remy and hiding his face in his chest, so Remy wouldn't see how his face went red. "You helped me believe in Christmas again."

(i hope this was some nice food for my rosleep shippers! also i'm sorry this is literally a month and a half late. uh...things happened! but i'm sure a bit of christmas magic is great no matter what season, right? thanks for reading!!! and feel free always to put in an ask if there's anything else whump writing wise you wanna see from me!)

[tss-whumper]

run baby run au

this is probably one of my top favorite sanders sides aus of all time that i have ever made! i'm excited to finally post about it.

this au is very dark so read with caution!

(cw -> ableism, mentions of s/a, pedophilia, violence, physical abuse, kidnapping)

this story begins in an overcrowded group home, where two orphans, half-brothers, have found each other, clung to each other, and decided from there on out that they would never, ever let go.

their names are roman and logan.

roman is the older brother, standing at ten years old. he is willowy, starting to hit his growth spurt, and he has luscious dark skin and beautiful red-brown curls that sit wildly upon his head, just how he likes them. he is shockingly gentle considering how much energy he constantly carries around, and he is always curious. the world is his playground, and his vibrant imagination is always in use. and he is severely intellectually disabled. roman is a boy who has the same mental capacity as a six year old due to an intellectual disability, his iq being in the 40's. he struggles with basic tasks, and it is uncertain if he will ever be able to live independently. nobody in the group home could be bothered with parenting the boy, as they label him as difficult and bratty. so roman basically has no choice but to lean on his little brother.

speaking of little brother, logan is the younger of the two, six years old to be exact. he is tiny, extremely tiny in fact, and he has light olive skin and pin-straight black hair that he chooses to keep long because brushing it soothes him. he is startlingly mature for his age, and he always has a gleam in his eyes as if he's always observing the world around him in a careful, scrutinizing way. he is a genius, able to learn things very quickly, to the point where he is at a high school learning level when other kids his age are barely at elementary school level. and out of necessity, he has learned how to parent his older brother, helping him through things that he cannot do, and basically dedicating his entire life and all of his time to making sure that roman's various needs are met. he doesn't see any other option. nobody else is going to take care of roman, and he is the only one who is capable. so he does it. and he loves roman dearly throughout it all, seeing the potential roman has where nobody else does.

roman and logan struggle in the group home. nobody wants to adopt them, or even foster them, because they are such a unique case. many people have tried to separate the brothers, but it never works. they are too attached, and they cannot imagine life without each other. until virgil, their kind, standoffish, and very anxious social worker decides that enough is enough. he loves roman and logan like they are his own, and he decides to make them his own. he adopts them, and roman and logan are thrilled that they get to live with the one person in the group home situation who was actually nice to them.

but good things don't always last forever.

virgil struggles. a lot. with raising these two kids. he tries very hard to give them equal attention, but it becomes difficult as roman has a lot of needs, while it seems like logan has very few. logan can take care of himself in the morning. logan can make his own meals when he is hungry. logan can do his own homework without help. logan can, logan can, logan can. and roman can't. not without help, at least. so virgil finds himself spread too thin trying to take care of roman, while logan is sort of neglected, left in the dark. it doesn't help that logan is a very independent type who doesn't like to be vulnerable. logan doesn't want help from virgil. he's six, and then he's ten, and then he's fourteen. and he still doesn't want help. and when roman turns eighteen and has to deal with the transition from kid to adult, he needs even more help, and so logan distances himself even more, deciding to skip high school entirely and attend the local college for schooling.

in college, logan meets a sweet and happy man named patton. unlike the other college students, who view logan with irritation and disgust, patton is very nice to logan, offering to study with him and hang out with him after classes. logan is shocked, and a bit excited that a college student wants to hang out with him. so he accepts, and the two grow closer and closer. patton starts to invite logan to parties, and then, he slowly transitions into inviting logan into his dorm room alone. the two kiss within two weeks of knowing each other, and logan feels like he's in heaven. somebody loves him romantically. somebody knows him without knowing his complicated family situation. so logan distances himself from his family more and more as his relationship with patton grows. patton tells logan that he just turned eighteen. when logan nervously tells patton that he's fourteen, patton only laughs and tells him that age is not that important.

age is not that important.

and patton isn't actually eighteen. he is going on twenty-five.

but logan doesn't know that. and since he has never been in a relationship before, and he doesn't even tell virgil and roman about what's going on, he doesn't have anybody to talk to as the relationship between him and patton grows more and more...dangerous. patton starts locking logan in the dorm room, not letting him out until logan touches him the way he wants. patton starts to hit logan whenever logan says no to patton's advances, or speaks out against him in any way. and the very first time patton sexually assaults logan, the poor boy's world turns upside down. he feels broken, disgusting. but he can't tell anyone. roman wouldn't understand. and virgil? logan couldn't stand the idea of seeming like some disgusting delinquent, or a sex-crazed animal. he didn't want virgil to blame him. so he keeps quiet, and lets it keep happening.

(this is only part one! there is more to the au than this, but this is the first arc, and i don't want to give away the entire storyline in one post because there are a LOT of plot twists! this is one of my most favorite aus, so please let me know if you want part two!)

[tss-whumper]

so. had an idea which was like. caretaker-turned-(accidental)-whumper virgil and whumpee roman. its w a superpower au and virgils powers tend to go haywire if hes overly anxious or just generally feeling strong emotions. and he hurts roman. and this happens often, accidentally or not, because roman cares about him!

so virgils trying his best to apologise, to make things right again, and romans terrified of him. because hes just gonna get hurt again, isnt he?

-🌙

( i LOVEEE this request dude. it's been on the backburner for so long cuz i was waiting for the perfect time to do it justice. that time is now!)

(i also love stories where the whumper doesn't know they're the whumper or doesn't know the extent to which they are whumping. so i snuck some of that in here for fun!)

whistle of the wind

word count -> 1.7k

cw -> physical violence, emotional manipulation, victim blaming, dubious consent (and by dubious i mean that it basically doesn't exist), unhappy and foreboding ending, sexual themes.

---

Roman carefully cradled his rib as he slowly tightened the bandages wrapped around his torso. The sterile white cloth was doing a great job of hiding the bruising that had bloomed overnight.

The result of last night's argument.

Roman tried his best not to hold it against Virgil. He knew his boyfriend was not abusive. Virgil had destructive powers, but he didn't use them against Roman on purpose. It was just when Virgil had that look in his eyes, that fear of being out of control, that things spiraled out of his hands. And Roman was always in the way.

It was his own fault, Roman tried to tell himself. He never should have provoked Virgil to begin with.

"Roman?"

There was a meek knock on the door. Usually, Roman stood up to answer the door himself, but he was preoccupied with his bandaging job.

"It's unlocked!" he called out from where he stood at his vanity.

Virgil came in, wringing his hands anxiously. The very same hands that threw Roman across the room with a tornado-like wind. The same hands that picked him up and carried him to bed after.

"I'm so sorry, Ro," Virgil whispered, "I can't believe I let it happen again."

Roman's mouth hung open for a moment. He didn't know what to say. At first, it was only a couple times a month. But as their relationship grew, these incidents grew more frequent. Roman was needing to bring concealer and bruise cream to work. His doctor kept telling him to be more careful going down stairs.

Virgil apologized like this every time. But things were not getting better. They were only getting worse. Roman did not know what to do anymore.

"You promised," he said softly, "You said it would never happen again."

"I know, Princey," Virgil choked out, "I'm trying my best here, I just couldn't control it this time."

"Can't you try a little harder?"

Roman's words rang off the walls of the otherwise silent bedroom. Virgil took a step back, shocked by Roman's harshness.

"I just- I just told you I'm trying my best," Virgil stammered, "If you had powers like this, you'd understand-"

"Well, I'm tired of understanding!" Roman burst out, staring into the mirror, tears forming in his eyes as he looked at the bandaging around his ribs. "I'm so tired of it, Virgil. I just got cleared to dance last week. After what you did to my leg last month, the doctor said I might never dance again. And he just told me I could dance last week. I was so excited."

"What are you even saying?" Virgil demanded, "Why are you telling me this? I told you, I can't control this, I can't do anything about this!" I didn't tell the wind to knock you over- I didn't make it do anything!"

"But you made it!" Roman shouted, gripping his own hair in utter frustration, "It's not fair! It's not fair, it's not- you still get to do everything you want to do! Your wind never knocks you down, or- or anything! Your wind never hurts you!"

Virgil stared at Roman for a long moment.

"Yes," he said lowly, "It does."

His hands balled into fists, and instinctively, Roman took a step back, clutching his injured rib tightly. There was that look in Virgil's eyes. Roman could recognize it from a mile away now. Virgil's face was paled, his eyes were fixated on the floor, his shoulders were rising and falling with heaviness and urgency.

"No," Roman whimpered, "Please- Virgil, you can't- I'm already hurt- it hurts- don't do it again, please, please don't do it again!"

"I'm trying!" Virgil exploded, glaring up at Roman, tears rolling down his face. "You have no idea how hard this is for me! Do you have any idea what it's like to be berated and screamed at, like- like I'm a fucking monster, for something that I can't control? I hate it! I hate it, I hate this! I never asked to be this!"

"Virgil, please- please don't- please- I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Roman cried out, his back now pressed against the wall as his chest rose and fell shallowly. "I'm sorry! Don't hurt me- please! I'll do anything, I'll do whatever you want!"

Virgil let out an animalistic, choked noise. The whistling of wind filled Roman's ears, and dread pooled in the young man's stomach.

Whistle.

Thwack.

Snap.

All three sounds happened in such close proximity that they were practically in unison. But it didn't stop. Roman could feel himself being carried off, again and again, trapped in a storm, flailing helplessly against the walls, the shelves, the dressers and drawers. Pain burst through his chest, and his arm. His throat went raw from screaming.

But then, as quickly as it started, it ended. Roman didn't even realize it was over. He was on the floor, surrounded by strewn about clothes and papers, still screaming and begging for it to stop. He could still hear the wind in his ears. He could still feel himself being thrown against walls.

Virgil could not say a word. What could he say?

When Roman heard Virgil's footsteps gently echoing against the floor and the door shutting behind him, he could finally breathe again. He was safe now. As long as Virgil was gone, so was the wind.

---

"Roman, did you want to do anything special for your birthday?"

Virgil had been doing things like this all week. Trying desperately to make it up to Roman. He bought him gifts, took him shopping, complimented everything he worked on. Roman honestly really enjoyed being treated like a prince, pampered and doted on. But he still couldn't help but shiver whenever Virgil's hands came close to his body.

"I...I'm alright, Virgil," Roman said, "It's just a birthday. And there isn't much I can do like this anyway. The doctor said I need to rest for another week before my ribs will be healed."

"Please," Virgil implored, "Isn't there anything I can do? I feel...so awful for everything I've done to you. You don't deserve any of it. I want you to have a good time. I haven't seen you smile in...in so long, Princey."

What was there to smile about?

Roman bit his tongue before he could snap that remark. Nowadays, he knew not to say anything to Virgil that had the chance to provoke him. It would just lead to another tornado from Virgil's hands.

Come to think of it, would another tornado come if Virgil was upset about Roman rejecting his advances? Roman bit his lip when he thought about it. He could hear the pangs of distress in Virgil's voice. That was always the first sign.

"You know what?" Roman said abruptly, "I do want to celebrate my birthday. Let's just- stay in and have a movie night. There's a new Disney princess movie that I've been dying to see."

Virgil raised his eyebrows, astonished by Roman's decision.

"You're really changing your mind...?" he asked hopefully, a smile already forming on his face.

Roman nodded rapidly, and he was able to breathe again when he saw the tension leaving Virgil's body. Who knew it was that easy? If he just did what Virgil wanted, then nothing bad would happen to him. The wind would stop.

---

Roman sighed as he sunk onto the cozy brown couch in front of the television, relieved that sitting down didn't hurt his ribs anymore. It had taken about a month for everything to heal, but Virgil had not created anymore wind storms.

It was stupid, Roman thought. How did he not learn the secret sooner? If he just placated Virgil and kept him happy, then there would be no wind. No harm. Everything would be perfect.

"Happy birthday, Princey," Virgil said, holding out a box wrapped in ribbon.

"Another present?" Roman asked eagerly, tearing it open as Virgil fiddled with the television remote.

"I was coming out of the store, and the lady at the counter told me that this is the hottest new thing, and- I know you like being hot, so I thought you'd like this a lot," Virgil rambled.

As Virgil was speaking, Roman pulled the present gently out of the box, his face going bright red when he saw the beautiful, lacy lingerie that Virgil had selected for him.

"Is it alright?" Virgil asked, growing nervous as he shifted from place to place.

Oh no. Roman looked immediately into Virgil's eyes, and saw that familiar twinkle of fear. No. Not again. Not today.

"I love it!" Roman quickly placated, putting a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "It's beautiful! I'll put it on right now, okay?"

Virgil's face budded with relief, and it was honestly adorable. Roman rushed off to put on the lingerie. It was itchy and tight, but Roman knew he couldn't let Virgil knew about that. Besides, he looked good. In the mirror, he could see how tantalizing the clothing made him look.

To not keep Virgil waiting, Roman raced out of the room, flaunting himself enthusiastically.

"Tada!" he cried out, hoping that the desperation in his expression wasn't obvious. "Do you like it? Is it great?"

Virgil's eyes trailed down Roman's body, to the point where he was practically drooling. Roman giggled at the sight.

"You look beautiful," Virgil whispered, "So perfect. Can I touch you? Please?"

Roman didn't want to be touched. He wanted to watch a movie and be with his boyfriend. He didn't want to do this tonight, not really. He didn't want it to hurt, like it sometimes did when Virgil got caught up in the moment. He didn't want to spend his birthday serving somebody else.

But what else could he do? Virgil looked so nervous as he asked. If Roman said no, then Virgil would overthink it, and get even more upset and afraid, and then, more wind would come. Roman was sure of it.

It had been such an amazing month. No meltdowns. No wind. No storms. Roman just wanted it to stay that way. He couldn't handle getting hurt again. Not today. Not on his birthday.

"Touch me however you want," Roman whispered, batting his eyelashes, not to be seductive, but to blink away his tears. "I'll do whatever you want."

[tss-whumper]

fat whumpees

whumpees who aren't the skinniest little toothpicks alive

whumpees with flab

whumpees with thick thighs

whumpees with more fat than muscle

whumpees who lose weight while being whumped but then gain it back in recovery and it's seen as a completely good thing

we just need more whumpees that don't have the standard, typical, cliche "ideal" body type that society pushes onto us. because whumpees can come in many shapes and sizes.

i will never shut up about this because i hate the idea that people can only be helpless and deserving of rescue and victims and all that if they're skinny and little and tiny.

[tss-whumper]

whumpee was extremely underweight at the time they were rescued.

weeks pass as they are being nursed back to health by caretaker. they start to gain a lot of weight back, slowly and eventually gaining back all the weight they lost.

caretaker smiles when they see the number on the scale go up, giving whumpee a high-five or a celebratory hug.

because weight gain is NOT A BAD THING.

maybe whumpee gets a bit pudgy. maybe whumpee notices that they have flab where they didn’t before. and they SMILE. they’re getting themselves back. they’re getting their body back because they aren’t being starved anymore.

just an overall positive attitude about weight gain in hurt/comfort whump please. because it is so special to me.

[tss-whumper]

okay this is a really weird request that’s gonna make me sound a bit like a pick-me.

if you are fat/plus-size/big/however you consider yourself, and you enjoy whump, what are some things about bigger bodies that would make whumping them unique?

i am a smaller person so i am used to writing from my own experience when it comes to how my body physically reacts to different kinds of suffering, but is there anything that is not often written about that bigger bodies would react differently to? such as different whump tropes, torture methods, etc?

[tss-whumper]

(cw -> talk of homophobia, internalized homophobia, religious trauma, suppression, brief mention of physical abuse, cages, knives, and scars.)

classic sanders sides concept of: roman realizes that thomas is gay and patton suppresses him and forces him to keep it secret and blames roman for thomas being "broken" as a lover because he is gay.

BUT

the addition of janus into this equation. after all, the transition from closeted to out and proud has a lot of deceit involved. convincing others you're straight. convincing YOURSELF you're straight.

janus and patton both working to make sure that roman doesn't get to express love/romance freely because of the social consequences that may arise, caring more about the potential harm thomas may face than the guaranteed harm that roman will face as a result of being suppressed.

it would be extra whumpy if there was some sort of physical manifestation of patton and janus suppressing roman. imagine they lock roman in a literal closet, or a cage. to keep him from escaping and continuing to express his gay-ass truth. maybe they cut him through the heart in the hopes that they might kill the part of him that is making thomas gay. maybe he has permanent scars on his chest around his heart as a result.

[tss-whumper]

guys i’m gonna answer more requests today and write some special spooky whump in honor of halloween!!!

is one going to be about how roman is expected to be the brave one and yet he’s the most afraid of jumpscares and gore and things like that and he gets made fun of for it? maybe.

[tss-whumper]

whump concept: roman has always been regarded as the selfish one of the group. the brat who always needs to get his way, who always needs to have the best of the best, even if it means that others don’t get much of anything.

but when all the sides are put in a dangerous situation, roman sacrifices his safety/freedom/life for the others. the ultimate act of selflessness. is it enough to repent for all the greedy acts of his past (in the eyes of the others)?

what if it’s not?

[tss-whumper]

yeah

i’m definitely fueled by that hater anon

i’m gonna write some boxboy-esque whump

two whumpees

one will be fat

and they will both be whumped to holy hell

and it’ll be great (not for them tho lol)

yes the whumpees will be roman and janus

yes they’ll start out as enemies and then realize that they have to get along out of necessity

and yes janus will have a BIG BODY.